Tuesday, April 7 - Breakneck Speeds

By Kait Marcelle, SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA, USA

 

Some things happen so quickly, you barely even notice them even when they are right in front of your face. My area saw widespread installations of barriers between workers and the public in our still deemed essential stores. I also experienced what seemed to be two starkly different weeks rolled into just one.

On Monday, I was snickered at for wearing a mask in public, as I saw the seemingly overnight placement of particulate shields/barriers between workers and the public at checkouts. By Thursday evening, I was getting increased requests to make more, as the public consciousness was changing and people demanded their own protective equipment. By Friday, we had received a countywide mandate that masks need to be worn by all those in public at all times. Most places are closed, with only essential services open to maintain and support the public, such as auto service, supermarkets, pet supply, construction, shipping, craft stores, liquor stores, phone services, and some takeout-only restaurants are all still operating.

I feel as though I'm aging at a compounding rate. March felt like a year. This past week has felt like a month. I understand why my brain feels like it's been at least a month, as I've probably digested more information in the past week than I would in a normal month. Between combing research studies and listening to what health professionals are saying in my family from the front lines and health professionals around the world, I feel like I could treat a crash course on the spectrum of masks, who needs what kind, and how to make them. A week ago, I couldn't operate a sewing machine. Today I taught myself how to use one. Our sense of time is being challenged in many different ways right now, and I hope you, too, have some healthy outlets for any anxiety, or cabin fever.

I'm not merely going out into the world as a novice internet reporter. When asked to speak about my perspective, I thought what an excellent opportunity to help process all of this happening around me. To quickly summarize, I'm currently a student of biotechnology at a community college, living in the middle to low-income part of inland southern California, U.S. I live a pretty isolated life, to begin with before this happened. Keeping busy between my school work, fiancé, my plants (not his because he's jealous of my love for them), our nine-year-old cat (arguably his favorite and I've come to terms with that), and our very few friends. I originally moved here to be closer to my parents to help care for them. One of my parents only has one lung left on top of every other risk factor for COVID that they've been telling us on the CDC television commercials. Also, they are immune-compromised; needless to say, I, their only daughter, worry a lot about them.

I know many beautiful people are heeding the warnings to stay inside. I, for one, thank you. My parents, thank you. I'm sure someone somewhere is thanking you as well for stopping the spread of this virus. I have been making only essential trips, which are zero after I went grocery shopping weeks ago. My partners' job is currently still deemed necessary. Because he is in contact with the public, he has happily agreed to go after work to keep me staying at home as well. I count getting my parents' needs met essential. One issue that happened over the weekend was their bed required fixing. It was unable to be slept on, and this directly impacted their already existing health issues.

While walking through the hardware store, it was hard to ask for help. Everyone is overworked or understaffed. I understand their frustrations. This existence isn't fair to anyone. To the lady that looked at me like I was crazy trying to have wood get cut right now, I understand entirely. You didn't know that those couple of pieces of plywood are going to make all the difference in the world for two older adults who are in a lot of pain. It was hard.

It was the last place I wanted to be; however, I am so thankful they remain open to people's needs.

 

 

This diary entry is part of Kai’s collection, from an upcoming book titled The Lighthouse, his second collection of COVID-19 diary entries, this one is a collaboration of voices from around the globe. He shares with them iChongqing, and at www.theinvisiblewar.co.