From Boston:

Hello Rod. I’ve tried to write this email to you a few times and have nothing but trouble. It feels weird talking about me when the rest of the world is going to Hell, but I needed someone who might understand what I’m going through. Having read your work for almost a decade, I think you will.

I’m currently an inpatient at a prominent hospital in Boston, diagnosed with a stage 4 sarcoma. Two days ago was when the doctors decided that there was no further avenues for treatment for me, and the best thing to do would be control the pain. Usually, they said, that could happen in the hospital.

But then this freaking corona.

A new policy was coming, not sure if from the government or just from the hospital, that would significantly curtail visitors. As the nurse explained it to me, I would be allowed none, because of my “unique” status as not an inpatient or outpatient, but a little of both.

So, I would die of cancer alone, in a hospital, without my family. How the heck am I supposed to do that? What kind of choice is that?

There are some people working tirelessly for me, to get me into a hospice that might have a more lenient visitor policy, like family might be able to stop by. But what is this pandemic making us? It’s clear that society will have some hard decisions to make, but how do we recover from those decisions?

Thanks for taking the time to read my email. Please pray for me and for my family.

He wrote back to say he’s moving to a hospice tomorrow. Please pray for this dear man and his family.

From Eugene, Oregon:

I live in Eugene, Oregon. We are moving into springtime, with daffodils and crocuses in bloom everywhere, some of the trees flowering, most of them just beginning to put out buds or tiny green leaves that you can only see if you are looking closely. Lots of sunshine. It’s normally a beautiful, exuberant time, when most of us are outdoors walking, running, or cycling, but this time of coronavirus has already changed things. It’s quieter, the sidewalks and streets emptier, with a sense of calm before a storm.

My husband and I are in our 60s. After raising our children, I worked in retail for 16 years before retiring last August. My husband is a bicycle mechanic working for a company that has manufactured folding bicycles locally since 1995. He cannot work from home, obviously, and had decided to continue working as long as he had a job and no symptoms of illness. Yesterday was his last day. As far as we know, we’re not sick, but the supply side of business has been problematic for awhile since many components come from China, and now demand has dropped off to almost nothing. No one is flying or bicycle touring these days, and many people have no job and no money. The company will probably shut down next week, and hopefully will be able to get some help to re-open in the future. We had begun to make small withdrawals from our savings to supplement his income this year, and with our toilet paper apparently worth more than our 401(k) these days, we are pretty concerned about how we are going to keep paying rent and bills and buying food if this goes on for a long time.

We are set with food and medicine for now (thank you, Wyoming Doc) and have been staying home except for his work, and now we will both continue to hunker down. One of our sons is married and living in the LA area, a college chemistry prof who is figuring out how to teach online. We had planned to visit earlier this month to see them and meet our first grandchild, but cancelled our trip because we wanted to be responsible and minimize our risk of getting or transmitting the virus. The other son is in Seattle, working at a dental lab that is so far staying open, but a shelter in place order could come at any time. He is in a serious relationship with a young woman in New Orleans. At a time when they had planned visits so he could meet her family and she could meet us, they are stuck in 2 of the top 3 coronavirus hotspots on opposite sides of the country, which is a bummer. We are emailing and texting a bit, and all maintaining a sense of humor. We are so blessed to have food and shelter, a big pile of books, and most of all each other. Every day that I wake up to see the sunrise I am profoundly grateful, and filled with a quiet joy in spite of everything. Out of our limited food stores, I scatter breadcrumbs and peanuts for the squirrels and crows, and make nectar for the hummingbirds. They have given me friendship and joy and amused my cat every day for years. “Freely you have received, freely give.”

So far there are 88 confirmed cases in Oregon and 3 deaths, but I’m pretty sure this is just the tip of the iceberg since there has been very little testing. We are midway between Seattle and the Bay Area and probably not far behind them in terms of what is coming. Our governor has limited gatherings to 25 and ordered schools closed and universities and colleges to go to online courses through at least April 28. Dormitories and dining halls are permitted to stay open for college students who have no place else to go, but they are supposed to stay in rooms as much as possible and maintain social distancing elsewhere. Sack lunches are being distributed here for kids who depend on school lunches and are now home. Bars and restaurants have been closed except for take-out/delivery options.

Other non-essential businesses have been asked to consider closing, and many have done so. Groceries, pharmacies, gas stations, bike shops (for many of us, that’s our transportation and bike couriers are stepping up to help with food delivery), as well as post office, police and fire departments, and health care facilities are all considered essential. Also, because it’s Eugene, dispensaries are in that category, too. Aside from legit medical uses, some folks might riot in the street if the government took away their weed! (We don’t partake, but it’s definitely a thing here.) Starbucks is offering drive-thru only as there is apparently some debate about whether coffee is essential.

Entertainment venues are closed. Our annual Eugene Marathon in April is postponed indefinitely and may not happen this year. The library went on reduced hours last week and is now closed. Dentists are only seeing patients on an emergency basis for the next three weeks. Buses are running on a limited schedule, again requiring social distancing as much as possible. We live on a busy street, but there has been significantly less traffic over the last week. Happily, our utility company has suspended shutoffs and late fees for the time being.

On my last grocery run, some of the shelves were empty or depleted significantly, but there was still quite a bit of food available. Grocers that sell most of their food in bulk had stopped accepting personal containers but made bags available. The store clerks were good natured and helpful, and they are working insane hours and putting their lives at risk so the rest of us can get food. To me, they are unsung heroes. Local breweries are using their equipment to make hand sanitizer, which they are either donating or selling at reasonable prices, one to a customer. Churches have mostly moved their services online, I believe, and cancelled everything else. On my last grocery trip I saw one had posted on their message board:

Wash your hands and say your prayers,

Germs and Jesus are everywhere!

Health care facilities and first responders are doing their best to prepare, training people and putting up big tents to expand their space, but I expect they will be overwhelmed. We have a drive-thru testing station as of yesterday. Our governor has been in touch with VP Pence asking for more tests, PPE, and ventilators, but I’m sure her counterparts in every other state have also, and I am not sure how timely or adequate any response will be.

Compounding the seriousness of our situation is a significant homeless population. It is tough to obey the basic directives like “wash your hands” and “stay home if you are sick” when you don’t have a home to stay in and finding a bathroom to use is a logistical challenge each and every day. The city has put up 15 hand washing stations and has plans for 30 more. The mission shelter is doing their best to leave more space between beds and separate people who show signs of illness, as well as stepping up the cleaning and disinfecting. Overnight shelters are staying open 24 hours to help keep people off the street and give the sick a place to rest. The Lane County Event Center, our largest building by far, has opened its doors to the homeless and has a healthcare professional screening those who enter to separate those who are ill. Many are older people with underlying health issues compounded by years of exposure and malnutrition. Churches who provide meals are trying to find the safest ways to continue to do it. Many who volunteer with the homeless are seniors, so at this point one vulnerable population is putting themselves at risk to serve another. People in charge of these efforts are asking young people to step up.

On the upside, this is a pretty creative and resilient town. Yes, it is a hotbed of liberal politics — Bernie country for sure — and in lots of ways is insufferably “woke.” Many of the homeless are energetically mentally ill and their antics and some criminal behavior are the despair of our struggling downtown businesses, and our city council has been very ineffective in addressing the problems. I grumble that I would rather write in Donald Duck next fall than re-elect these people.

But I love my city anyway, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s mine. It’s a place of great natural beauty, and there are lots of us aging hippies who know how to grow food, raise chickens, fix things, use solar energy in practical ways, and make useful and/or beautiful things out of scrap materials that more affluent folks have thrown away. We are used to baking our own bread and making our own music. There is a serious permaculture movement with some amazing sites. All of this stuff may end up being useful if society ends up being permanently disrupted. We also have great indie bookstores and theaters, and last weekend we bought a gift certificate online from our favorite bookstore since we’re not out shopping and we really hope they can make it through this. Awesome bakeries, also, and independent grocers who stock mostly local products.

In our acquaintance we’ve got Trump enthusiasts, folks to the left of Bernie, and everything in between, but we all get along and we’ll help each other out any way we can; we know the virus doesn’t care about our politics and we’re all in this together. Our #1 DJ, Downtown Deb, is still on the radio every Saturday night bringing us music from the Grateful Dead. Her last show closed with the refrain “We will get by, we will survive.” I admit things look pretty grim, but I’m betting on us anyway. In the midst of “coronavirus winter,” I am cherishing our spring.

Thanks for all you do and I hope you and your family stay safe.

From Finland:

Here is an update from Finland, where our unique social norms may help combat the virus.

Finland has thus far been spared the brunt of the virus. There have been some 300 infections and no fatalities to date. Some Finns explain this by national character, social distancing is here the norm not something you need to adapt. Forgoing kisses, hugs or handshakes requires no effort in country where private space is widely held to be a literal arms-length. Finns have always made a point of standing as far apart from each other as possible. That was the explanation for our love of the mobile phone; it removed the need for face to face communication.

While all public events have been cancelled and bars are closed, cafes and restaurants remain open. The argument is that widely spacing tables, roughly a yard apart, is sufficient. Should things escalate, roughly half the country has an ace up their sleeve. Finland has the lowest population density in Europe and many citizens own cabins in the vast woods that cover nearly 80% of the country. These are the very woods made famous during California’s fires when Donald Trump incorrectly informed Americans that we rake our forests. Although, to be fair to Trump, a lot of woods are cleared of underbrush. In any case, here living in seclusion is not a social nightmare but quite the opposite, the Finnish dream.

Finland’s female prime minister Sanna Marin received world-wide press when she assumed office and there is no doubt that the country is being run with a feminine touch. Marin’s female majority government declared a state of emergency on Tuesday, but this has not led to ultimatums and stern warnings of dire consequences. Instead the government strongly suggests on what is desirable behavior. This softer touch has led to some uncertainty about what is and is not allowed, but it has also alleviates tension.

True to their culture many Finns have resorted to the Sauna, of which there are one for almost every two Finns. An age-old adage claims that if booze, tar and the sauna don’t help, there is no hope. Health officials have been forced to inform the public that bathing in a 200-220 Fahrenheit degree sauna is not, unfortunately, effective against the virus. It does build a mighty thirst though and beer is selling well.

Social distancing as “the Finnish dream.” Ha! They’re keeping a sense of humor in Finland, sounds like.

From Spain:

Greetings from Alicante

The lockdown started to get serious yesterday, Army (but Army lite, think National Guard with fire trucks) and police stopping people on the street asking the nature of their trip.  The first few days were much more casual.  Today is Fathers Day in Spain so only the pharmacies are open.  Day one of the lockdown the stores were visibly low on stock.  Being southern Spain pork and “good” rice were not to be found but surprisingly unlike the US pre snow storm/hurricane,  cigarettes and booze were and remain plentiful.  Yesterday the grocery stores were only short of “good” local rice.

Spain was JUST starting to get back to pre financial crisis levels, this is devastating.  I honestly have no idea how Spain will bounce back from this.  There was less than no slack in the system and now….who knows.

People seem as cheerful as is possible under the circumstances but there is an underlying sense of serious unease, not so much from the virus but from what comes next.  One very sane, very Catholic, friend openly wondered why were were having to choose between our grandparents and our children’s future.  Dang good question and not easily answered.

Cheers and hope y’all stay safe.

This one from Connecticut is more of a Pandemic Diary than a VFYT:

You had previously mentioned wanting to support your local book sellers, can we give a shout out to the local restaurants who are trying to stay afloat through this time? Attached is an image of our to-go dinner from Ariana’s Restaurant in Lyme, NH. My dinner (Sauté of Shrimp, broccolini, baby spinach, tomatoes in a garlic, wine butter sauce, orecchiette) is on the left, my wife’s (Penne Bolognese,  beef, veal and pork, house marinara, cream, penne) on the right.

Please send more diaries, readers. Let us all know how you’re doing, what you’re seeing, what we can pray for, and the rest. And please don’t forget to pray for our Boston reader who is moving to hospice care, and his family.