Crazy Ways of Coping in the Time of Coronavirus

Schools are closed in Kentucky as in many states. Restaurants and bars also are closed here. Salons and gyms were ordered closed yesterday.  Many other venues we’d ordinarily go to are closing to help slow the spread of this particularly contagious and particularly deadly virus.  

We’re told to exercise social distancing, self-quarantine if we may have been exposed. And we’re told by our “youngsters” to “Stay the f---at home”. At least they care. Or they’re just relishing the chance for turn-around in giving unsolicited advice. No, I’m going with they care.  

So how are we to cope? This is a time of coming up with novel strategies for a novel virus.  

Many have responded by rushing to all still-open stores by buying hand sanitizer (Ok, that makes some sense.), toilet paper (Not really so sensible in huge bulk quantities unless your home cooking is really bad), and firearms (Just crazy. The virus is too small to effectively eliminate with bullets and the virus has yet to turn any victim into a brain-eating zombie.)  

Some folks also have rushed to hair salons for color and cuts. Before they have to stay home for weeks. I’ve got to ask—does anyone you live with not know your hair grows and is a different color than given by nature?  

This particular behavior brings to my, somewhat-warped mind an old episode of I love Lucy. Lucy and Ricky who, in the midst of one of their more nasty squabbles, have divided their home into “his” and “hers” sections. Somehow, Lucy got the half with the kitchen and Ricky got the half with the bathroom. Lucy, uttered, in what was shocking dialogue for the times (remember this was the 1950s), “There’s going to be a lot more brown roots around here.” 

But enough with remembrances of simpler times past. Though if you can find I Love Lucy re-runs on a TV station or streaming, it surely will be a mood-lifter.  

Given that the CDC now recommends medical professionals caring for coronavirus patients who have run out of masks use scarves or bandanas we can all use some creative coping mechanisms. Maybe that's why Trump's latest new medical person-in-charge, Dr. Deborah Brix, as she stands silky shoulder-to-shoulder with the President and Vice President as they emphatically stated at today's news conference there is no shortage of protective equipment or tests, wears all those silk scarves--for when the masks run out at the White House.

 

I promised some coping mechanisms for some coronavirus problems. I didn’t say any of them would actually work. But maybe they will give you a laugh. Or, who knows, maybe some of them will work. So here they are:

·      Order a clear, plastic, bubble umbrella as a self-protection device for when you absolutely have to go out shopping. If nothing else it will help with the social distancing as other shoppers will decide you are a risk because you are half-crazy. I’d suggest spraying with cleaner or disinfectant when you get home. I don’t know what the CDC guidelines are—probably still “Stay home.” But, if you order a bubble umbrella, at least on rainy days, even in non-apocalyptic times, you can use it as just an umbrella.

·      Order a bidet toilet seat—or add-on bidet sprayer for when the toilet paper runs out. I’ve heard the Japanese swear by these devices as much cleaner than toilet paper. If you have unlimited cash or credit, go for the “Rolls-Royce” model with not only water but warm air dryer, night light and heat. If you go for the top of the line, I may break my self-imposed, staying-home mantra to come visit your home—I promise with trusty bubble umbrella in place—to check it out.  

·      This one’s for those kiddos stuck at home and their parents who think half-crazy would be an improved state of mind, why don’t the cable channels, network channels, or whomever start showing school lessons? After all, not everyone has high speed internet but most people have a TV.  Grade school classes could start early in the mornings. Afternoons, evenings and the wee hours would be reserved for high school and college-age folks. Teachers could assign tests or papers based on the lessons and collect them at some future, theoretical time when it’s safe to congregate again. In anticipation that many students would fail to complete the assignments, creative writing assignments could be doled out to explain what happened to their homework.

·      Start fun, family cooking projects to cook from items in the back of the pantry. For example, yesterday I made gluten-free bread from a package that had been in the pantry for, oh, five, maybe ten years. I knew there was something not quite right when the yeast failed to fizz even a little bit despite the recipe saying it would. The final result was not so much bread as matzah or communion wafer-loaf. But a fun project that amused me for several hours, including scrounging until I found an old bottle of cider vinegar, and the eventual cleanup of every bowl and measuring cup we own.

·      Discourage ill-advised spousal cooking plans. For example, my husband, ordinarily an excellent and thoughtful cook, suggested his own cooking from the back of the pantry project—spicy, black bean casserole. The thought of ingesting that and the likely intestinal distress from my gastritis (and had he forgotten there’s a toilet paper shortage going on), gave me emotional distress. If he follows through, I may eat the rest of my left-over project—stale, gluten-free, flat bread. Hmm…maybe with peanut butter or jelly? Or canned tuna? Time for another pantry check. And an internet search on do-it-yourself gel polish removal. Maybe with something I find in the back of the pantry.