It’s been a while since my last blog post! During this quarantine, I’ve decided to reconnect with the joys of journaling and blogging in a more personal way, both for your entertainment and mine. It might feel like you’ve missed a chunk, or even a whole season, of what’s been happening. I’ll try to catch up as we go. In the meantime, stay safe and keep washing your hands.
We’re now on Day 4.
The response to the health crisis in San Diego has been pretty shocking. To say nobody is taking it seriously would be an understatement. Just last weekend, the beach was crowded, several people in our campground were having a BBQ, and what bothered me the most was the situation on the military base where my husband works.
People on military bases don’t necessarily follow the state governor’s directives, so everyone mostly ignored the situation and carried on as usual. There was an event on base where spouses brought all their kids. Offices are still operating without reducing staff to essential personnel, but the most absurd part came from the medical response.
If someone shows flu-like symptoms, they get a piece of paper telling them to self-quarantine at home. Then they have to take that piece of paper to their office and personally hand it to their boss. Real effective strategy for flattenthecurve, right? This happened to my husband, who was given three days off as a precaution. If he had COVID-19, it’s likely his entire office would have it too. I expected the military to be the most informed and responsive group during this pandemic.
I’m equally stunned by my elderly neighbors who constantly come close to me and my dogs. Do they have any idea where I’ve been or if I’m healthy? I’m trying to stay calm, but I don’t want my quarantine efforts ruined by someone else’s carelessness.
This situation brings to mind autobiographies I’ve read, like those about Jewish ghettos during WWII or the spread of HIV in 1980s San Francisco. Why the ghetto comparison? Here at the campground, we’re still uncertain if we will be allowed to stay for the duration of the crisis. We could be asked to leave anytime. Some people have already moved out, while others stay just in case. Are we the ones who will react too late and end up on the streets?
We’ve been appealing to stay, but then we find ourselves focused on our own safety, not caring about our neighbors. Should only active duty personnel stay while retirees leave? How did we get to a point where we’re okay as long as we’re part of the saved ones?
The HIV crisis comes to mind when people assume I’m healthy just because I don’t show symptoms. I feel like coughing whenever someone gets too close, but then I worry we might be kicked out of the campground if I do.
Remember when people would sleep with others because they thought, “I know you, so you’re not sick” or “I trust you”? That mindset led to unnecessary deaths. And yet, no one cares now. When I saw a BBQ with a dozen people at the campground, I wanted to say something but held back because I didn’t want us all thrown out due to a few foolish individuals.
The uncertainty is tough, but we’re managing well in the RV. We don’t have to deal with roommates or neighbors who aren’t taking care of themselves.
The scary thing is, if we do everything right, it’ll look like we overreacted. People will flood the streets, forgetting all about social distancing and hygiene, and we might end up in another crazy situation.
Today, San Diego, Carlsbad, and a few nearby towns have shut down their beaches and parks after the weekend’s violations. Coronado is likely to follow soon. We went on a bike ride and saw cops everywhere, even casually chatting with locals at about a 2-foot distance. These are our supposed leaders, folks.