If quarantine is a pond, social distancing is the pebble thrown into it.
Individual stones flicked in aren’t so bad in terms of splishes and splashes, but walking over to the pond’s edge and slowly slipping rocks down into the water is a way less violent way to submerge them.
(I mean, it’s also way less fun, but)
If the goal is to get the rock into the pond with the least amount of displaced water, well, there’s really no better way to do it.
And that is, essentially, what is being asked of us by federal and state officials like Kentucky Gov. Andy Beshear well into month two of our projected 18-month coronavirus pandemic!
Yeah! Woo! Break out the streamers and balloons, y’all, we’re in this one for a while.
Probably. Most likely.
We can almost assuredly lessen the spread of COVID-19 if we all agree to do our part and not throw rocks into the pond. And here’s the thing: we’re all hanging out at the pond. There’s no way around it. Even if you don’t love the outdoors, like me, you’re still at the pond with everyone else. That’s because coronavirus and its spread are a ripple effect. We need to slowly dunk our pebbles and reduce our impact on this ecosystem because a lot of the folks at the pond:
1. Aren’t properly equipped to handle it.
2. Aren’t aware the size of their pebbles.
3. Aren’t going to make it.
Yeah, it gets dark fast.
So how do we do this? Simple. Follow the social distancing guidelines being pushed by state and federal government officials:
Wash those hands! Don’t lick any doorknobs unnecessarily! And good grief, stay home!
That last one? That’s the big one. Well, they’re all big, but especially that last one.
Do you remember when things were normal? Doesn’t it feel so long ago? Hey kids, did you know that families, get this, actually used to go to restaurants! And that people would go on dates to places! I’ve even heard tales that folks used to pack gyms to watch people play basketball! Used to dedicate a whole month to it, even.
Boy, we’ve sure come a long ways since making jokes about toilet paper and its scarcity, huh? And now most of us are just living in scare city. Bad place to be. And unfortunately, this is absolutely going to get worse before it gets any better. And that’s expected. But it shouldn’t cause panic.
Now, it’s normal to feel anxious. That’s totally OK. And no one’s going to fault you for that. But being aware of and comprehending the horrors that exist is important. But it might be hard for us to fully grasp the scope of things when we’re here in the Appalachians, or other not-as-hard-hit locations. Because we’ve honestly gotten off pretty easily, especially here in Eastern Kentucky. Particularly Pike County, which got its first confirmed case of COVID-19 on what is usually the worst day of the year, April 1. The one day of the year when the internet intentionally becomes useless instead of just being that way all the time.
Oh, you weren’t actually pregnant? Well, that’s the only congratulations from me you’re ever getting for such a momentous occasion. Oh, you mean you didn’t actually xyz something? Wow, way to go fooling me.
But confirmed is our key word when it comes to coronavirus.
There are definitely more cases in Kentucky (917 confirmed as of 4/4) and Pike County (still just the one confirmation since 4/1), they just haven’t been found, or confirmed, yet. And to think otherwise, honestly, is being naïve. Likewise, as confirmed cases increase, jumping up a solid 92 confirmations from 4/3 to 4/4, (a 10 percent bump to the state’s total number) that isn’t exactly indicative of a spread of the virus. Rather, that’s just tests being ran and sent back from the lab.
If things go as planned, that is.
See, anytime those numbers go up? That’s expected. But that doesn’t mean it’s time to panic. It’ll be time to panic way before you even realize it’s time to panic, so don’t worry about that one.
(And really, panic looks so bad on you this time of year. It’s a real killer on your eyes. Sorry. I’ve been meaning to tell you.)
But cases should continue to increase until all of Kentucky’s cases are found. And ideally, once that number starts to shrink and the daily update doesn’t spike anywhere, then the curve has flattened and the spread of coronavirus is starting to wear thin.
But that doesn’t happen if we’re not following the suggested rules at the pond.
When you travel to the grocery store, how well you maintain the social distancing guidelines is how you get your pebble into the pond. When you head to work or visit with your neighbors and friends, you’re putting pebbles into the pond. But when you’re home? Just hanging out and doing your thing? No pebbles, but you’re still at the pond.
Yeah, it sucks. But that’s the reality we’re living in. It’s weird times.
“BUT I DON’T WANNA. THESE GUIDELINES SHOULDN’T APPLY TO ME.”
Oh, well then, I see that you’re active on social media. Way to go!
If you are of the mindset that being asked to not treat your pebbles poorly is treading upon your freedoms and rights as a citizen of the great United States of America, that some buffoons out there on social media have the unmitigated gall to even suggest, then I’m glad that you’re such a staunch supporter of people dying to a mysterious disease of a relatively unknown origin.
Let’s peel back the metaphor for a second: being asked to stay in quarantine or self-isolate isn’t asking you to give up your freedoms. You’re still free to travel to any bar or restaurant or anything like that, but none of them are open because it’s incredibly difficult to properly maintain a safe social distance either because of the layout or because you’re a jerk and think it doesn’t apply to you.
Hey, we got signs up at the pond that says no running at the water’s edge. But are we going to jail you for not complying? No, of course not. You’re still free to do that, you fool. Just don’t go running to social media when you slip and fall in. And don’t hurt other people at the pond!
And sitting here in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, we’ve got a big pond. But we’re lucky it’s so spread out, relatively speaking, compared to other ponds in New York and Los Angeles. Standing at our water’s edge, it’s hard to resist the urge to make one of them big ol splashes that really gets the blood pumpin, you know what I’m saying? Go on, skip that pebble across the water, who is it going to hurt? I mean, really? Come on now! One time isn’t gonna be the end of the world, right?
Well alright, you talked me into it. Let’s skip a stone across the pond. Just once, k?
And because of that, the coronavirus has a chance to spread.
Let’s say that I’ve got a friend who hasn’t left their home in a week or two and they are following the social distancing guidelines suggested by their state and federal government officials. They’ve been real good about just walking over to the pond, slowly sinking a few pebbles into the murky depths, and then heading back to whatever they are doing to pass the time. They’ve also been doing really good about shopping. They purchased a good amount of basic supplies without hoarding so that their neighbors could do the same.
But then I run over to their side of the pond and hurl a pebble in, by going to see them. Cabin fever, am I right?! Just couldn’t help myself. And I’ve not been observing those social distancing guidelines. I’ve been tossing pebbles left and right all over this dang pond, man!
And, as it turns out, I got a big ol handful of that big bad virus all over my palm and I touched everything.
And when they close the door behind me, they get coronavirus all over their palm. And when you get caught up in the fun of isolation, maybe you give it a lick, I don’t know. I’m not judging, you weirdos. But the virus doesn’t affect me. I’m asymptomatic! I feel great!
But my friend? Ooh man, are they feeling rough. Just what the heck happened? They had been observing the guidelines this whole time! They’d been so good about their pebbles and the ripples!
How did they wind up getting this terrible vir-
Oh. Yeah.
“My bad. Sorry you feel so rough. I still feel great though. That’s weird. Well, don’t go visiting anybody.”
They weren’t! You were!
“Wait, you think you got it from me? You really think so? Huh? Well, that adds up, I guess. Oh heck! And I’ve been visiting all sorts of other people too!”
So, this obviously sucks for several reasons:
Now we have another person who is sick with this disease, and possibly more, still undetected, due to my arrogance of thinking that the social distancing guidelines didn’t apply to me. That the pond’s suggested rules meant nothing. Now my friend has to take up valuable resources in a hospital and use a ventilator that someone else might have needed.
I know what you’re thinking. But they needed it. They got the virus. Here’s the thing: they wouldn’t have needed it if they hadn’t gotten it. They did their part in social distancing. I didn’t. And we’re all in this together.
Oh, and remember this very important thing when you read about ventilators and their shortages: THOSE THINGS HELP YOU BREATHE WHEN YOU AREN’T STRONG ENOUGH TO DO SO YOURSELF.
I mean, really consider that.
People can’t breathe as a result of the complications of this virus. And the ROBOTS THAT HELP THEIR LUNGS WORK AREN’T READILY AVAILABLE.
But now back to my major mistake.
Not only is my friend sick, but now medical professionals in the area are put in harm’s way even more than they already were as a result of this new case, which all stemmed from me not observing social distancing.
Let’s say during my drive back from their house which doomed them to the hospital for whoever knows how long, I get into a car wreck and get badly injured.
Now, I have to get treated by doctors and nurses and staff and all sorts of people because I didn’t stay home. Just couldn’t help myself, right? Those people who should have been able to direct their focus on COVID-19 patients now have to handle my busted leg or whatever because I didn’t play nice at the pond.
Well, well, look at Mr. Ripple Effect over here. Just tossin’ rocks all over the pond. Rock here. Rock there. Maybe over there later! Hey, watch your head! Incoming!
This is how the coronavirus is spreading. This is how people are dying.
But Pike County, and most of Kentucky, doesn’t have it so bad. You’re just being dramatic, right?
Nope.
According to a recent report from the New York Times (great source for news, by the way. Them and the Associated Press, if you need some good locations for stuff), a University of Texas at Austin study from disease modelers found that even counties like Pike, with just the one reported case, “have more than 50 percent likelihood that a sustained, undetected outbreak — an epidemic — is already taking place.”
That’s a coin flip.
Remember, there’s way more cases of coronavirus in Kentucky than we know of. We’ve just not found it yet. And thinking otherwise is naiveté. Lauren Ancel Meyers, a professor of biology and statistics at the university, told the Times that most folks should assume that the virus is already present and that even in counties with no cases yet reported, like nearby Floyd, there’s a nine percent chance that an undetected outbreak is underway.
As a result, taking care of yourself and others around you at the pond is more important to do now than to do later. And here’s the biggest reason why.
Officials here in Kentucky have a model prediction that, even with the strictest observations of social distancing, up to 2,000 people across the state will die from COVID-19.
That’s a third of Pikeville’s population.
Right now, we’re at 60 deaths. That’s an increase almost beyond comprehension. With poor social distancing, but still some, that number increases to around 13,000 dead. Simply outrageous. And with no social distancing? Around 47,000. That’s about 1.5 percent of the state’s population. That’s like every single person in Ashland dying. Twice.
But as I’ve said throughout, we’re lucky here in Kentucky compared to other parts of the country. We have the ability to really stop the spread of this virus before it truly clamps down on us. We just have to handle our pebbles with care at the pond.
All of us.