Another mono beatdown day. Not much to report except a lot of sleeping and inability to focus. You know how much I like to post here — it feels weird and wrong not to do more. Compulsive, I know. I watched three episodes of “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” and realized that I have turned into Larry David. So has everybody in my household, except our big-hearted, non-ironic, non-neurotic second child.

The New York Times ran this crazy piece today:

Who thinks that?! Don’t shake their hand, or stand too close. Is what I’m saying.

Oh, there was great news today: Nora found six bottles of diet Snapple today in the back of the pantry! Hallelujah! Three raspberries, two peaches, and fortunately, only one lemon.

This was me about two minutes later, exaltating like a lark:

I love diet Snapple so much, and wouldn’t you know but my diet Snapple dealer — who I won’t name, but it rhymes with “Fostco” — decided to quit carrying it right about the same time as the pandemic started. Can you believe? It’s the End Times. Anyway, after over a week without a drop of that fake-sweet, delicious tea, it was such a treat. Happy happy joy joy. It’s the little things.

By that way, above, that’s Nora making bagels today, from the King Arthur Flour cookbook,her favorite. She’s using her confinement to produce various bread things. That, and finding buried treasure in the back of the pantry.

Well, enough from here. Over to y’all.

From Long Island, New York:

There’s so much I can say right now, it’s hard deciding what to leave out. I just turned 36 this March, and have been struggling through a long recovery at home from an injury. Now CoViD-19, when I’ve just started to get my life back. It’s funny, I’ve been isolated for so long that this quarantine actually makes me feel closer to people, not more separated. Like the world has slowed down to my speed, just as I’m rising up to meet it. So I cant be pessimistic, not totally. I was suffering alone for years, despite everyone’s efforts to comfort me. Now for the first time in a long time, we are all speaking the same language about our fears, exchanging what we’ve read, and even sitting down to watch the same TV shows (Cuomo Briefs, Announcements, today’s death toll) at the same time. I haven’t seen that since high school season finales of Dawson’s Creek.

But certain things make me angry that I didn’t expect to do so. When reporters started fixating on the “100,000 deaths” projected by the model during the Whitehouse Briefing, I had the urge to shout “It’s not about how ‘big’ the number is, or if it’s 100K or a million! It’s about our people dying now!” And I have always been a news op-ed junkie, but now I cant stand the “Voice of reason” approach of so many writers that “It’s not as bad as originally predicted” and that “our health care system seems to be handling it better than expected”.

I realize now, those people are reporting from “the outside” and I’m in the eye of the storm. So let me give a different weather report.

Hospitals seem to be just maxed out, here on Long Island. By that I mean from talking to doctors, nurses and PAs who I know, that quality of care is still high in most places. But everyone is stressed and working lots of hours and getting short on PPE supplies, so for how long can they keep this up? I almost wish I’d gotten CoViD-19 already, so that I could atleast have ensured I received the maximum medical attention. I doubt that’s gonna be possible if the next two weeks are as bad as Cuomo and Fauci say that they will be. I actually had a respiratory infection/light flu in March already, but no one would test me for CoronaVirus at the time, so I have no way of knowing if I have antibodies, and Ive been living with my older parents. My mom is a cancer survivor and my dad smokes and has COPD. My brother lives alone in Queens, where the virus is running rampant according to cops my friend knows. So we can’t figure out if my brother is safer there or here, as our town has one of the highest infection rates in Nassau county. My mom says she is keeping us separate, because one of her children have to survive. And we are all playing the odds.

In the midst of this, I have never been so proud of each person in my family. My brother is a musician who is encouraging his music students with inspiring recordings that are truly healing. My father shared our meager mask supplies with our next door neighbors whose children are all first responders. My mom has mobilized us to spring clean the whole house – she never lets a crisis go to waste. We’ve all been brave and afraid. Generous and stingy, Kind and snappy. But I guess that’s real courage, not the type found in tales.

Everyone around here is past the panic stage. Only we never knew there was a stage AFTER that before. It’s a sobering dread. Sitting around, waiting to discover if the grim reaper is going to pass his scythe through you, your parents, your neighbors, or not. Not knowing what to expect. That’s the scary part that eats at me, everyone was saying it was just old people who had to fear this virus in the beginning, but now no one can say for sure it WON’T be you. It’s not the fear of dying. It’s that I don’t know what is coming, and so I can’t prepare myself for it. Will I be like my brother’s young friend with no health problems who is now on a ventilator? Will my family be like my friend’s family in Queens, with one parent in the hospital, one home and struggling, and a disabled daughter who is asymptomatic? What about the 30 year old New Jersey special Ed. Teacher whose wife found him dead in his bed at 6am? It seems like young people with no health problems are more likely to die at home, because when they are examined at the hospital they look strong and unlikely to take a turn for the worst – until they do, and fast.

Hospitals in New York City are clearly in more dire straits. I feel like all the police officers, jails, doctors, hospitals, firefighters, EMTs in New York City have long been used to patch the cracks in our City that people in charge just wanted to ignore: homeless, addiction, mental illness, broken homes, child abuse, you name it. And here comes CoViD-19 like a hammer to shatter us apart. No wonder the hospitals can’t cope. A childhood friend of mine works in Corrections at Rikers Island. He says they still don’t have N95 masks for guards when they work on the quarantine bloc. And I’d read the newspaper report of the DOC Union’s complaint that their guards had no sanitizer or masks. That was made over 10 days ago. The people who think this isn’t “That bad” need to realize the CoViD-19 Hammer is coming for their cities too, to shatter their crooked infrastructure. And the faster their metro population has grown in recent decades, the less their state will be able to absorb the shock.

What would help us now? Well, a lot of us New Yorkers REALLY want our doctors and nurses to STAY HEALTHY. We want them to still be alive to treat patients when CoronaVirus comes for the rest of us. It takes 30 years to make a doctor, and not everyone is the right raw material. So supplies for them would be great. I’d be ashamed to have them take care of me, if we can’t take care of them.

We also REALLY need that Antibody test so we know who has become immune. Not just so we can go back to work, but so we can take the risks uninfected people can’t.

I can only speak for myself, but what’s really been encouraging for me is reading about all the scrappy inventions people are making to solve problems. It makes me think starting a new career after injury might just be possible in this climate. You no longer have to be perfect, you just have to put forth a solution. I no longer feel like a fish out of water, exactly. No one is “qualified” to invent something that’s never been thought of before, or even needed before. So we will all be starting from scratch – together.

From Bryn Athyn, Pennsylvania:

Thank you for your early warnings about this virus – thanks to you, we were prepared when the initial rush of panic buying emptied the grocery shelves, and we’re feeling as prepared as we can be for whatever comes next. And thank you for your continued compassionate, insightful coverage of the crisis.

As you know, my wife has neuroendocrine cancer. Fortunately, it has not progressed in the last three years, and she does not have a compromised immune system at the moment. She does get fatigued easily; and with our 5-year-old and our 6-year-old home from school, and an 8-month-old baby who is just about to start crawling, we’re exhausted. On top of that I’m currently serving as assistant chaplain and teaching two theology courses at my college. I also chair the teaching committee, where we’ve been doing what we can to support faculty moving online with hardly any time to prepare. I don’t think I’ve ever worked this hard, and I know it’s nothing compared to what so many others are doing right now.

I’ve faced crises before, but never one that has the unique factors this one does that make it so easy to get sucked into bad habits: overconsumption of news and social media, petty arguments, stress eating, etc. I’m finding it hard to hold onto the steady confidence in the Lord that I know I need if I’m going to care for my family and my community well.

On Wednesday morning in our family worship we read the Parable of the House on the Rock from Matthew 7:24-27. I was struck by the imagery, and afterward a poem came to me – which is strange, since I haven’t written a poem in probably more than ten years. Here’s the poem, for what it’s worth:

Shelter in Place

The tidal wave is cresting,

and those of us with half-built houses

on the rock are eyeing the sandy shore,

considering a scrabble up the dunes to higher ground.

We’ll pitch a tent up there,

find a yellow raft from someone, somewhere,

ride it out a little further back and then come down

to build our houses once the storm has passed.

I’m fighting that real temptation to retreat into myself. In a way, I’m grateful that all this is happening during Lent – grateful for the liturgical reminders that this has always been the way of the things in chaotic times. And I’m grateful for the knowledge that despite it all, He keeps on rising on Easter morning.

From Virginia:

Our church in downtown dc is making a real effort to keep everyone connected.  This week everyone received a Holy Week box with a Palm, candle, the Palm Sunday liturgy and reflections/ideas for every day of the week.  I particularly like the idea to “strip” your desk on Thursday evening to mirror the stripping of the altar.

From suburban Chicago:

The economic and physical toll of the pandemic have become obvious but over the last few days I have had some thoughts on additional consequences that we may see down the road.  Probably will not be good for our society and culture.

My first insight came the other night when my wife of 44 years and I had a good old fashioned yelling match when we got irritated at each other.  I know in many households this would be nothing new but in ours it was.  After the dust settled and we both apologized, we realized that we could not remember the last time that happened – it was literally years ago.  I guess being cooped up and having all of the other stresses in our lives pushed us over a line.  Our marriage is plenty strong and will readily survive but I started thinking about how many marriages and other family relationships may not.   Could become a serious issue when laid on top of the economic impact.

In  a related mental health note, I have noticed that my very minor OCD characteristics (who would step on a crack in the sidewalk if they didn’t have to?) have become stronger including my up-until-now harmless and mild germophobia.  I realized that mental and emotional heath issues have rightly taken something of a back seat these last few weeks.  But we all know they haven’t gone away.

Finally, I take a one hour walk every day.  There has developed amongst us walkers something of a social distancing dance.   The criss-crossing of streets can be somewhat comical at times but I have realized that there is also a somewhat fearful undercurrent to our nods and hellos.  Bottom line is the YOU might be dangerous for ME.  Will this “distancing” disappear once this is over.  I sure hope so.

On the plus side I continue to see spiritual growth for myself and others.  This we hope will continue.