Well, We’re Here Now

A NOTE ABOUT WHAT’S HAPPENING. AND I’M SORRY.

I’m sorry we’re here. I’m sorry that our lives are so enveloped in this COVID-19 pandemic that I’m writing a column about it. It has been our lives. Our worries. Our pain.

It’s been scary. And the scare is an invisible enemy. We’re told to fight by keeping distances from individuals. Don’t shake hands. Don’t hug. Keep your space in line. Don’t gather. Wash your hands. Use hand sanitizer. Sanitize everything.

I WANT TO SAY I’M SORRY.

For a species that depends on socializing, it’s painful. Our hands are raw from washing. And let’s not forget that many of us--of you and others are feeling the financial pain and burden tightening as well. And we’re so conditioned to this New World Order, that socializing on television and film is beginning to weird us out.

And it’s all from something nearly invisible to us.

Typically, when sick, it’s visible. Pale skin. Glassy eyes. Hacking cough. The non stop runny nose. You see it. You avoid it. You send it home.

But we can’t now. I could have had it. You could have had it. And if you didn’t have the severe symptoms, you didn’t know. Otherwise, symptom-free, you go to the grocery store. You stop because you have a flat tire and need to

make it to your next shift at the hospital. You didn’t know. And now that virus has spread.

I’ve found myself recollecting moments from shows and movies (typically some form of horror, unfortunately), and one particular scene from the first season of The Walking Dead always stands out. It is early in the zombie pandemic. Rick leads his group into Atlanta to the CDC, which is in quite the lockdown (steel

doors and a heavy duty bunker enclosure...it’s impressive). They bang on the entrance and wave frantically to the cameras in hope they are still operating and someone will let them in. And surprisingly, there is one individual trapped inside. He lets them in.

The group begins asking questions. Does this scientist know what this virus is? How does it work? Is there a cure?

The scientist (after much resistance) enlightens the group on the situation. The big takeaway: Everyone is infected with the virus. Just, not everyone immediately “turns” (turn into a zombie). But upon their death without being bitten, they will turn. It’s inevitable.

The news is devastating to the group. And I won’t give up the rest because you might have time to binge some of it in the meantime. However the scenes, the explanation and that feeling of lost hope when it was revealed, felt really on par with what is going on in our

world. Who knows, most of us may be infected by the time this reaches the stands and you finally read it.

In a sense, I almost wish this were a zombie pandemic. At least you’d be able to see the enemy. Your goal: Avoid the zombies. They are infected. Don’t get bit. Cool. Done.

And I promise I’m really not trying to belittle the situation. I can’t imagine what it’s like at the front lines of this thing. I’m in awe of the individuals not even able to be near their families because of what they are working around. I feel for the families that can’t even bury their dead or say goodbye, because of the risk associated with being near the infected patient.

I do hope by the time this is printed, we have more answers. I hope that there are more supplies and support for our health care system (which appears to be growing this week), and we’ve reached the peak point and are seeing a slow down of infections. But it’s all unknown. Again, we just take it dayby-day, planning ahead has been of little use at this rate. It’s a plan-as-you-go era for now.

And for that, there is maybe only one good thing of all of this. It’s to be here in the now. We have to think about what we can do now. What to appreciate now. What can we do now with our time to help others or maybe just ease our anxieties so we can make it through one day and to the next. And be thankful we have this day. And maybe this day is another day locked in your house, trying to find something else to distract you on Netflix. But at least you have this day.

Lalita Chemello is a Detroit-born writer newly displaced to the west side of the state. She’s written/edited for New Roads lifestyle magazine and Panorama. Her other passions are photography, motorsports and screenwriting. You can also occasionally find her around town on her vintage two wheels.