The world seems apocalyptic. Pre-apocalyptic maybe. I’m not yet wearing leathered earth tones and wielding a weapon far too cumbersome for my size (as seems sacrosanct in most dystopian YA novels). Entire countries are on lockdown, and now so are some states in the US, too.
Adversity always brings out both the best and worst in people. Some will be “the helpers”, as Mr. Rogers called them. Doctors, nurses, other healthcare workers, first responders, childcare workers, grocery/supply store employees, sanitation workers, etc. who are on the frontline laboring tirelessly to protect the ill and prepare the well. Some are friends or family members who will watch your rambunctious toddler so a newly transitioned work-at-home parent can actually work at home without too much interruption. Or friends who, when on a supply run, ask if you need them to pick up anything for you, too. People who are making protective equipment like face masks for the hospitals that are quickly depleting their inventories. And then there are the exact opposite. People who hoard toilet paper and soap (news flash, we all have to wipe and wash, so save some for the rest of us). Those who do not practice social distancing, and still flock to beaches and theme parks, disregarding the health and safety of those who may not have as hardy of immune systems. *Side bar to anyone reading this, MILLENNIALS ARE NOT THE PROBLEM. Most millennials are in our 30s now. We have jobs and families, and are staying the eff home. It’s Gen Z you want. The generation of eating Tide Pods and complaining that their partying and spring break-ing were mildly inconvenienced. Go after them.*
As a doctor, I am considered a critical employee. Despite not being in an ER/ICU/hospitalist specialty, I am mandated to report to work, no matter what (be kind to your doctors; we are stressed, guys). Thankfully, my employers have been proactive about implementing telehealth to offer as much protection as possible. And although increased anxiety comes with being a physician during a global health crisis, I am very grateful to have a stable job. I know so many have uncertain futures, and my solidarity and prayers are with you.
I was joking to friends recently that when you know you can’t leave your house, it feels Tom Thumb tiny, even if it is the size of a palace. I had bought my toddler some new puzzles to keep him occupied and pass the time indoors; he loves them, and I thought it would give me some time to get things done around the house. I set him up with a brand new, 25 piece Paw Patrol puzzle that he had never seen before, and he happily began working on it. I slipped away to the laundry room to switch loads and hang up some clothes. When I emerged less than 5 minutes later, he had already assembled 21 of the 25 pieces without any assistance. I quickly realized I would need to revamp my strategy to “keep him occupied”, as he quickly completed the final 4 pieces. I also realized I could learn something from my toddler. He is just happy to be spending extra time with Mama and Dada. He is too young to understand what is happening in the world, but he offers his dimpled smile, sticky hands, and tender heart without reservations. So, world, show each other kindness and compassion. Love as fiercely as a toddler. Just wash your sticky hands first.
In Search of Nostalgia 