Tag: coronavirus

Interview with the Immunati – cower in place 27

– in which Dorn talks with one of the Fraternity of the Recovered.

A

s time goes on and the pandemic continues its inexorable spread, the number of people who have recovered from the virus mercifully continues to rise. What must it feel like, I wonder, to go through greater or lesser amounts of misery and uncertainty, and emerge on the other side? How heady is the realization, “I survived it, and I’m now immune and uncontagious!”?

Soon everyone will know someone with a story of a successful fight against the disease, but for those of us who aren’t there yet, here’s my promised interview with an actual covid recovered. 

To preserve her privacy, and to protect her from the ever-present threat of plasma-poachers, I will refer to her only by her initials ER in this interview. Without any further ado, please enjoy the Interview with the Immunati.     –Trentin Quarantino

*   *   *

TQ. Thank you for speaking with me today, ER. I know my readers must have many questions about what life is like post-covid.
ER. It’s a pleasure to be here, Trentin. Or it would be, if I were actually here, and not conducting this interview by videoconference. You know I’m not contagious, right? Probably?

TQ. It must be a very freeing feeling to not have to think twice about who you come within 6 feet of, or who might have touched the railing before you did. I know I still have trouble wrestling with the idea of reducing social distancing, even if I rationally believe I’m not at risk.
  Do you find that becoming immune to the coron­avirus has changed the way people treat you? Do they look at you with a mixture of awe and envy, perhaps tinged with a bit of horror?
ER. That’s right Trentin. I’m the new variable in the equation, a new curve in the modeling. I think some people are still wary of my ability (modesty prevents me from calling it a ‘superpower’) to walk among the living without worrying about who might be carrying the virus.
  Most, like you, continue to treat me the same way they would treat anyone else they interacted with—that is, with caution, or without, depending on if they believe in the corona­virus in the first place.

TQ. I see. Does peer pressure force you to continue to wear a facemask and engage in protective health measures, even though for you they have now become empty rituals?
ER. Yes, I usually find it easier when engaging with people who are still susceptible if I dispense with trying to explain that I’m not contagious, and instead just wear the mask and exhibit the other appropriate cues of social responsibility, even though medically these rituals don’t benefit them or me (probably).

TQ. That’s twice now you’ve said probably. Is there some doubt as to your immune status?
ER. There is, actually. The virus is so new that we don’t know for sure whether recovering from it even conveys immunity, and if so, for how long it lasts. Experience with other coronaviruses, and common sense, tell me that if my antibodies won the internal battle against covid-19 once, that critter will think long and hard before it tries messing with me again. But you never know.
  Plus there’s an additional complication. Every indicator says that I wrestled with the coronavirus for weeks, and have now recovered, except one key one: I test negative for covid antibodies. I’m a “stealth” Immunati. Probably.

TQ. (Unconsciously moves chair a few inches further away from the video­conference screen). Yes, well, um. Elizabeth, I mean ER, you mentioned that some of the people you meet don’t even believe in the coronavirus, or at least don’t believe in its unprecedented health dangers. Do you find more people with this belief in your home state of West Virginia?
ER. I’ve told you before Dorn, I mean Trentin, I don’t live in West Virginia, I live near West Virginia, in western Maryland. But yes, when I go to West Virginia I rarely see a face mask. It’s a relief to be able to take mine off and still fit in.

TQ. In addition to the emotional freedom it can provide, there must be a significant financial advantage to no longer needing face masks, gallons of hand soap, sanitizer and toilet paper. Has being freed from these expenses significantly boosted your standard of living? What do you spend all this money on instead?
ER. I still use soap and toilet paper, Trentin. I’m an Immunati, not a savage. With the money I save on face masks we’re remodeling our house.

TQ. Your husband Mr. Rohring spent several weeks coated in a film of your virus-infested cough droplets, without developing symptoms. Do you consider him also recovered and immune, asymptomatic, or just a ticking time bomb?
ER. Oh, Bill has always been a fire­cracker! Seriously, we’re just hoping for the best.

TQ. While you no longer face health risks from the coron­avirus, the threat of economic disruption is still equally present for Immunati and non-Immunati alike (what do Immunati call them anyway? “humans”? “mortals”?). Do you find yourself weighing the pros and cons of re-opening the country differently now?
ER. We Immunati call those uninfected and unrecovered from covid-19 “muggles” to their faces. Among ourselves, we call them “virgins”.
  And while it does lift some of the personal worry to believe oneself immune, the health risks for my friends and family are still very real, so I don’t think my views on that have changed much. The economic hardship being felt by many during the pandemic is also real, and there are no easy answers, no matter how hard some try to convince themselves that there are.

TQ. Well, thanks so much for sharing, ER. As a token of my appreciation for you taking the time to be with me virtually, here’s a (virtual) T-shirt with a logo I designed myself, that might make it easier to say it loud! Immune and proud!
ER. Thank you, Trentin. My pleasure at talking with you is every bit as real as this T-shirt.

*   *   *

That’s it! Thanks,
Dorn
5/17/2020

Looking ahead: cower in place 23

– In which Dorn tries to plan for the future.

E

verybody these days is struggling with new kinds of planning for the future. In the most basic sense, we are all doing what we think is needed to prevent a painful and debilitating disease from slowly claiming us, or someone we care about. I’ve found that my lizard brain—the oldest part of the brain, responsible for primitive survival instincts like fear—doesn’t really seem able to get the concept of catching the virus. I think about it a lot, sure, and it controls (or at least colors) every decision I make these days.

But the fear and anxiety that I feel is much more immediate: I feel fear about doing something that will disrupt the routine of safeguards that we’ve put in place. When I have anxiety dreams at night, they aren’t about getting sick, they’re about forgetting to wash my hands or change my clothes, or accidentally touching something, or being forced to call a repairman into our house*, or to visit a doctor.

My lizard-brain priorities make sense to me. Our survival mechanisms evolved to urge us away from behaviors that could kill us at that moment. Our higher thought processes are the ones devoted to working towards longer-term future goals. I’m gratified (I think) that I’ve internalized the threat posed by not washing my hands right down at the lizard level, so don’t have to rely on my logical Spock brain to keep me conscientious.

How the brain functions
source: https://hombahrani.wordpress.com/2015/03/07/python-game-rock-paper-scissors-lizard-spock/

*   *   *

The part of my brain responsible for logical thinking already has plenty to keep it busy. Like grocery shopping. When I used to shop, I would forecast my meals and other needs about a week in advance. But now I buy my groceries online, and there’s sometimes a week or even two between when I order my stuff and when I get it. So I am now planning meals three or four weeks out.

Plus there’s the added complication that stores are often out of certain things (like toilet paper!), and I have to plan for the possibility that something I waited a couple of weeks for doesn’t arrive, and if I didn’t have contingency orders in, I’ll have to wait another couple of weeks for even the possibility of getting it.

We had luckily stocked up on toilet paper right before the decree went out that everyone should immediately go buy every existing roll, and we’ve been living on that stockpile ever since. I ordered some about six weeks ago from a place that promised they’d deliver it in six weeks, and did the same thing about four weeks ago. Plus every grocery store order I makes includes toilet paper on the list (and every grocery delivery so far has come in without said toilet paper). My strategy has been to keep requesting it in every venue, and hope something comes in before I’m all out. That time is getting closer.

Yesterday, Kathleen got a message from a well-stocked friend who’s offered to bring over some of the precious paper commodity, and we also got a call from our daughter who said she’s scored a source and is mailing some to us. Plus the 6-week and 4-week orders, and three grocery store orders, are all falling due in the next seven days. So by this time next week, we’ll either have more t.p. than we know what to do with, or have almost none at all, or somewhere in between. At this point my ability to forecast my situation has completely broken down. But we’re not out of t.p. yet, so my lizard brain is still completely happy.

*   *   *

Let me switch to a more serious kind of forecasting for a minute, where my lizard brain falls short. We’ve all been seeing or hearing forecasts of when the number of coronavirus cases will start to go down, so we can start going back to work, seeing family members, and generally resuming something of our former lifestyles. The need to protect ourselves and our loved ones from both illness and from joblessness and poverty affects us on both the logical and the visceral level.

And unfortunately, for many there’s no clear way to do both. Many jobs require human contact, but resuming higher human contact levels is forecast to increase the severity of the pandemic.

But not resuming increased human contact means that the jobs that require it can’t fully (or even partially, sometimes) reopen. And these businesses are running out of time—most have less than 30 days of buffer funds.

Clearly some middle course is needed that will keep both the threat of disease flareup and the threat of bankruptcy and penury at minimum possible levels, but this sort of balancing is not something that our lizard brains do very well. We, all of us, need to work as hard a possible to find a solution that is reasonable for everyone, and not just comforting to our emotions. It’s hard to keep our lizard brains in check when very real threats are all around us, but we’ve just got to try!

Thanks,
Dorn
4/24/2020

*Coming up: our worst fears realized—we need to call an exterminator for something in our attic!