The year of pandemic living

I just finished Elizabeth Strout's new book, Lucy by the Sea, and found it to be a good read. The main character, Lucy Barton (a writer whose second husband recently died), finds herself riding out the pandemic in a rented house in Maine together with her ex-husband William, who has orchestrated the entire arrangement. He and she have remained friends after their divorce; he contacts her right before the pandemic hits bigtime to tell her that they need to leave Manhattan immediately. She acquiesces rather quickly, knowing that he is a scientist (parasitologist) and that he probably knows something she doesn't. The novel details their year together in a house by the sea, and how their relationship is rekindled after many years of living apart. William is now in his seventies and has major health problems, whereas Lucy appears to be in her late sixties and still relatively healthy, although she suffers from anxiety and the occasional panic attack. They are older and (presumably) wiser, dealing with regret and with the knowledge of their mortality. He is sorry for how he treated her (had affairs); she seems to be struggling with being alternatively judgmental and forgiving. In that sense, she is like all of us who have been hurt by someone--we want to forgive, we do forgive, but we wonder if we are being weak by doing so. We wonder if we should be hard and unforgiving. The novel deals frankly with the pandemic and the political events of the past several years. 

What struck me about the novel was the description of the loneliness that many Americans felt during the pandemic, as well as the panic and anxiety that many of them lived with each day. It was different here in Oslo; we underwent a similar type of lockdown, but I don't remember feeling that loneliness, the way Strout described it. It felt so empty, so desperate, so sad. And yet, I can only speak for myself. I know that the pandemic affected many people here in similar ways, especially those who lived alone. Perhaps that is what made the difference--having someone with whom to share lockdown. Because social life as we knew it ceased to exist. There were no get-togethers, parties, weddings and reunions were cancelled, bars and restaurants were closed, and people worked from home. I didn't find the latter bothering at all, in fact, I preferred it because I never felt lonely at home as I did at work. But again, everyone is different, and I can only speak for myself. 

Strout's book has gotten good reviews, but as always, I'm interested in the negative reviews as well. Those who are negative about the book are so because they did not want to read a pandemic book that reminded them of a horrible time. Additionally, they felt that very little happened to the main characters and that there really wasn't all that much to write about. While the former is true, I disagree that there wasn't really much to write about. The exploration of one's emotional life is not nothing. Lucy finally has the time to figure out how she feels about many things, and what she finds out is that life in general and her life in particular are complex, and that most of us live in the gray area between the black and white. In other words, while we would like life to be black and white, it is not. We are always struggling with our thoughts and emotions. But in the end, we are who we are and as we approach the last chapter of our lives, it is unlikely that there will be major personality changes. If you are the forgiving gentle type, you will most likely remain that way. If you are the aggressive unforgiving type or the philandering type, ditto. So that begs the question of whether she can trust William when he tells her at the end of the novel that he loves her. He seems to, and perhaps he always did, throughout his affairs and their divorce. The question, as her daughters remind her of, is whether she can trust William. The novel provides no answers to that question, and as Lucy herself points out, “It is a gift in this life that we do not know what awaits us.” How true. 

A commentary on pandemic mandates

This New Yorker cartoon by Peter Kuper from February 4th made me laugh. Perfect commentary on some of the pandemic-related stupidity we see around us. 

Traveling internationally during the pandemic

My recent trip to New York State during the pandemic showed me that as long as one is fully vaccinated, it is safe to travel internationally. I had originally booked a direct flight to Newark from Oslo on SAS, but that changed to an indirect flight via Copenhagen in order to fill up the plane. There were not enough people in Oslo flying to Newark at the beginning of September. I understood why when I read the US travel restrictions; pretty much only American citizens/green card holders are allowed entry into the USA. The same holds true for Norway and many other European countries; only citizens and permanent residents are allowed entry. When I saw the empty airports in Oslo and when I arrived in Newark, I understood that most people who normally fly to the USA are in fact tourists from other countries, and that the tourism industry in the USA must have suffered big-time during the pandemic. President Biden is considering a proposal to lift the travel bans for non-Americans in November. I hope that will be the case, because I cannot imagine how those Americans who rely on tourism for a living can manage in the long run. Of course I understand that the safety of the country comes first. But now that the majority of people are vaccinated in America and in Europe, it should be safe to lift the travel restrictions. 

I have never gone through passport control in the USA as quickly as I did now, and the same was true for when I returned to Oslo. I think it took less than five minutes at both airports. I had to show my vaccine passport to airline personnel in Oslo before I was allowed to board the plane to Copenhagen, and then again in Copenhagen before I could board the plane for the USA. I also had to have proof of a negative Covid PCR test within 72 hours of traveling to the USA; I traveled on a Monday morning so I took the test on the preceding Friday afternoon. Luckily it was negative, as was the rapid Covid test I had to take in the USA within three to five days after I arrived. On the day I was to board the plane for Oslo, I had to show my vaccine passport in order to board. Norway, unlike the USA, did not require a negative Covid test in order to fly. SAS required that passengers wear masks for the duration of the flights, and although I was nervous about this particular aspect, it worked out fine, much better than I expected. The SAS personnel took good care of us; they deserve praise for good service and help. Keeping track of all the travel requirements was a bit stressful but definitely doable and I was not discouraged from wanting to travel again. 

As luck would have it, the pandemic has 'ended' for all intents and purposes in Norway. By this I mean that all restrictions were lifted as of this past Friday. No more masks, no more social distancing. The young people of Oslo responded to the news by partying wildly the entire weekend; we older folks were happy about the news but did not feel the need to behave like the young people. I was at a small dinner party at an Indian restaurant this past Friday in order to celebrate my PhD student's defence; it was nice to sit together with people again and not worry about keeping a meter's distance between us. The pandemic is not 'over' in the USA, mostly because there are still many unvaccinated people who will end up delaying the reopening of the country. Too bad, because the USA was way out in front when it came to making vaccines available for its people. European countries were slow to make the vaccines available to their citizens, but once they did, the percentage of people who got vaccinated ended up being higher than that in America. 

In any case, regardless of what transpires in the coming months, we will not be returning to lockdown conditions. I think the health officials here have understood that we need to learn to live with the virus and get vaccinated each year against it, just as we live with the different flu viruses that arrive each year and for which we take a vaccine. If it's not worse than this, it's doable. By that I mean a minor inconvenience, one I'm willing to endure in order to be able to live normally and to travel. My attitude is 'do what is necessary in order to make those things happen'. I'm not going to rant and rave about my rights being taken away and all the rest of the nonsense when I have more important goals--being together with those I love in the USA. I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen. 

Reflections on retirement and the pandemic

Now that I've made the decision to retire, I've begun to reflect about different things, among them, how the pandemic affected my decision to retire this year. In mid-March of 2020, we were essentially told to work from home full-time if we had that possibility, and since most of my work is administrative, I was able to do that. I went from working from home one day a week as I had done for about fifteen years, to doing so five days a week. The first few months of full-time home office were fine; I had plenty to do and the days flew by. I didn't think much about whether I missed the actual office or not, because I didn't have the time to do so. Zoom meetings were new experiences, and people were not weary of them as they are now, over a year later. During the summertime, Norway 'opened up' for a few months, and it felt as though life was beginning to return to normal. In September 2020 I began to go into the office a couple of days a week to update server files and to meet with specific colleagues; we kept our distance and wore masks as required. We were allowed to have small physical meetings (five to ten people) as long as everyone kept the appropriate distance from each other. I held a lecture about my research project in September, and that went well. I began to think about writing the eventual article based on data from that project (that will be published next month), and I started writing it in the autumn of 2020. That kept me busy as well in addition to my biobanking administrative work. 

And then the winter months hit, as did a new lockdown right after Christmas. It was as though the reigning powers that be said--it's ok to shop and celebrate Christmas, but the punishment for doing that is a new lockdown right afterward. As of January 2021, normal life ceased and we were suddenly thrown back to March 2020. Working from home full-time began to feel like a chore. It wasn't a positive experience anymore. Zoom meetings were a bore, even though they were necessary. The only ones I got anything out of were the meetings with our research technician about her work on my research project. They were interactive and productive meetings. The amount of biobanking administrative work fell off dramatically from what I was used to in 2020, probably partially due to that our department leader (who prioritized biobanking) moved on to another job and priorities shifted as they often do under a new department leader. Biobanking work seems to have been deprioritized; I could be wrong. But the amount of biobanking administrative work has continued to decline, and no one seems to have an explanation for why that is the case. My research article is now written and will be published soon, research funding has run out, there is very little biobanking work, and my PhD student successfully defended her thesis in April. I'm essentially finished with all of the projects and work that I've been responsible for during the past five years or so. It began to feel like a good time to retire. It's not as though I didn't plan for it, I did. I planned quite well. I knew I wanted to retire in 2021, I just wasn't sure when. As it turns out, retiring at the end of August seemed to be the best decision. 

I didn't expect the pandemic to factor into the decision, but it did. The pandemic exacerbated the loneliness of academic life. When I am physically at work, I share an office with a pathologist who has a lot of diagnostic work to do. Sometimes we chat, and that is always pleasant. She is really the only person I truly interact with in the space of a day. But still, it is a lonely life. And working from home full-time began to seem quite lonely too. I don't mind being alone at all. But in the context of a work situation, I discovered I am one of those people who enjoy the professional and social interactions at work, however few they are. Being at home all day began to wear on me. Additionally, I realized that most of my colleagues are former colleagues; they are already retired. There aren't a lot of new contacts waiting in the wings. Those days of establishing collaborations with other scientists are over. 

So in the end, I feel lonely at the office and lonely at home--in a work context. When I am not working and am at home full-time, I'm fine. I have lots of other non-science-related projects to focus on--writing and gardening being two of them. I feel lonelier at work (whether at the office or at home) then I do when not working. That is as good a reason as any to retire now. I thank the pandemic for helping me to figure that out. 

An ethics lesson in the midst of a pandemic

Here is a hypothetical situation concerning getting the vaccine against the coronavirus. A hospital department contacts its employees late on a Saturday evening to let them know that if they want, they can get the vaccine that evening. The only thing the department employees are told is that the vaccine expiration date is the following day--Sunday, so the vaccines must be used up quickly. Around two hundred employees show up to take the vaccine; all are wearing masks, and all are trying to practice social distancing while waiting in line. One of the organizers walks around counting heads and telling the employees in a loud voice to remember to stand six feet apart. It is only when each employee is sitting with the vaccinator that he or she is told that the vaccines had not been stored at the right temperature and that there is a question as to whether or not they will be effective at producing antibodies against the virus. In other words, showing up for the vaccine dose may mean that the trip was a wasted effort. The vaccine may work, which would be good news, and it may not work, which is not good news. The latter means waiting for a new first vaccine dose; for some employees, this is a rather bitter pill to swallow because some of them lose their place in the regular vaccine line sponsored by the city municipality where they live or the hospital where they work. The hospital department that arranged the vaccinations has apparently not contacted upper hospital management about their vaccination program arranged on the fly; in other words, the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing. The hospital department decides to arrange for antibody testing starting around seventeen days after the vaccination date; it will call in each employee for a blood test and test for the production of antibodies against the virus. This could take some time--both the blood collections and the antibody tests--so it is uncertain when the results of the tests will be available. In the meantime, older employees (circa sixty-five to seventy-five years old) are being called in by the city municipality to get vaccinated. The municipality has no idea that these employees have been vaccinated with a possible ineffective vaccine dose. The employees are stressed because they are unsure of what to do--wait for the department to arrange everything, or take the new vaccine dose offered them. If they don't take the latter offer, they may lose their place in line and may have to wait another month or more to get a functioning vaccine. During a pandemic, the stress factor is high and nerves are frayed. It would be best to give employees the whole story, right from the start. 

If you were one of these employees and were a student in an ethics class, you might broach the following questions for discussion:

• Why weren't the employees told the whole story--that the vaccines might be ineffective?
• Why were only some few leaders told the whole story, and why didn't they inform all employees?
• Why wasn't there a general announcement that evening before vaccinations started that the vaccines might be ineffective?
• Are the results of these vaccinations going to be used in a research article of some sort? If so, all employees must consent to the use of their data in an eventual article. Some may choose not to.
• Even if the information gained from such a project is useful and informative, which it actually is, it would have been better to have fully informed employees about what they were signing up for. 
• Does this type of behavior help to build employee trust in management?

This is as it turns out, a true story. While all the employees will eventually get vaccinated with a second dose if the vaccine they received proves effective, and there is good reason to believe that it is effective, it would have been far better to have fully informed all employees. Some leaders will say 'what's the big deal? It all worked out well. Why are employees dissatisfied?' The answer is that they're happy to have been vaccinated, but dissatisfied with the way it went down. It's a learning experience for all leaders. The next time, they should make sure that all employees are fully-informed. That way, it's win-win for everyone. 

Reflections on the last day of March

The last day of March. The days roll by, the months likewise. One year ago, pandemic lockdown started. One year later, we're still not out of the woods. It's strange to think about. Surreal, really. I've given up trying to follow the news in any great depth. I manage to grasp the gist of news stories without really perusing them. I gravitate toward more optimistic articles, but even those tire me out after a while. I am not sure what I'm waiting for. I want society to get vaccinated and to reopen, but I have a feeling the whole thing will be anti-climactic by the time that happens. My trust in science has not really wavered, but my trust in leaders and politicians has not gotten stronger during the past year. In all fairness, I understand that they are just human beings like the rest of us, woefully unprepared for what has happened and scrambling to make the best of a bad situation. 

The only place I feel whole these days is in my garden. The rest of the time I feel rather fragmented, pulled in all directions, by what is going on in the world, by country and local politics, by workplace politics and leadership (or lack thereof), and by spiritual leaders. It's all too much and it's all too overwhelming. The garden keeps life simple. It needs what it needs and you know what you need to do, each year, every year for as long as you have a garden. The garden keeps me sane. There's a job to do, a goal that gives one purpose. Our divorce from the natural world has come at a high price, too high if you ask me. But no one is asking me. I look at the urban policies just in Oslo alone. They keep on building and building ugly modern minimalistic new apartment buildings; all of them look the same and all of them have the same purpose, to pack as many people into them as possible. Oslo is to become an urban city--large, sprawling, packed with people. Why, I'm not sure. It's part of the Green Party politics, but I don't think their politics are smart. When one looks at pandemics, for example, it's clear that living together like sardines is not a good idea for keeping a pandemic infection rate low. Oslo can never become Manhattan, and why should it? Manhattan is Manhattan, and much of what characterizes Manhattan is due to politics from one hundred and two hundred years ago; having people packed into tight living quarters was not so much a decision as a result of and a need for dealing with the number of immigrants to the USA around the turn of the 19th century (late 1800s to early 1900s). 

My husband and I got the first dose of the Pfizer mRNA vaccine this past Saturday. Without going into a lot of detail, there are questions as to whether the actual vaccine we received, which was not stored at the correct temperature and needed to be used up, will actually work; will our immune systems produce antibodies against covid-19? We were only told that its expiration date was on Sunday and we decided to take it, as did many other hospital employees that evening. At the same time, the Oslo municipality is calling in its residents to get vaccinated, and this is again separate from our hospital's vaccination plan, which is again separate from the vaccination program on Saturday. We got a message from the municipality yesterday saying that we will be called in soon to be vaccinated. The problem of course is that we don't know yet if the first dose we got on Saturday will work (it takes twelve to fourteen days to produce antibodies) so that we are hoping against hope that we get called in to be vaccinated at the three- to six-week time point, so that we can either get a second dose (or a first new dose), depending on whether the original first dose is effective or not. Complicated? Yes. It always amazes me how a small country can make things so complicated. The major problem is the lack of complete information; we get dribs and drabs of information but never the entire story. It's akin to being treated like stupid sheep, which I hate. It will probably all work out, but the ensuing disorder and logistical disturbance are totally boring and unnecessary. 

Liquor stores remain open, likewise pharmacies and supermarkets. They do a good job of controlling the numbers of people allowed in at any given time, so no complaints. Otherwise, most everything happens online; you order online and your order is either delivered to your home or you go to the store to pick it up. Those stores that don't provide online ordering have suffered and some will probably close for good eventually (unfortunately). Pubs, restaurants, and training centers remain closed indefinitely. Not sure about massage parlors or tanning salons. Hair salons remain open. Churches remain closed. 

I read the news from the USA, and it's not very encouraging there either. Spring break in Florida, where social distancing is non-existent. Rape and murder of a young woman who traveled on her own to Florida for spring break. Hate crimes against minorities. The level of racism in the USA appalls me; I wish the racists would go back to hiding under their slimy disgusting rocks. Politicians together with underage young women. NY State governor Cuomo accused of sexually harassing a number of women who worked for him. Republican men who won't get vaccinated. Still a huge amount of support for Trump. It's tiring to read and to listen to. When does it all get better? A vaccine against covid-19 won't impart immunity against stupidity, idiocy, hatred, racism, vitriol and bad behavior. I wish it did, but even if it did, there'd still be many people who wouldn't take it. Guaranteed. Because there are some people who won't listen to any reason and who only have contempt for science. It's always been that way, and at one point in time, even churches erred on the side of ignorance when it came to supporting or not supporting scientists. Luckily that is no longer the case for the most part. 

We are three days away from Easter Sunday. I am hoping for a resurrection into a new year filled with life, not death, filled with good things, not bad. I am hoping for an Easter miracle, a rebirth of values, ethics, good behavior, kindness and empathy--for us all. 

More pandemic humor

Pearls Before Swine is probably my favorite comic strip at this point in time. Stephan Pastis has had so many good commentaries on the pandemic in which we find ourselves trapped. Here are some recent strips that are pretty funny. 

 

Trying to find sanity

Someone should develop this as an app, it would be a rather apt app, especially in these pandemic times. 😀  

A year of the pandemic

Mid-March will mark the one-year anniversary of the month in 2020 when life as we knew it came to a grinding halt. Normalcy disappeared, replaced by uncertainty and a fair amount of gloom and doom. People were told to work from home if they could. Day-care centers closed, likewise most schools and universities. Restaurants, bars, theaters, movie theaters, malls and shops also closed. Plane travel ceased, as did international travel. Supermarkets remained open, as did shops deemed essential for the daily lives of men and women. Norway did not institute a curfew, but all of the above closings constituted a lockdown of society, however partial. 

When the pandemic first began, my husband and I were glued to all the news programs we could find about the coronavirus. We watched the news religiously, and read the rapidly multiplying scientific articles about the virus. We wanted to learn as much about it as we could. Norwegian immunology and virology experts weighed in with their opinions. Politicians and health officials collaborated on a daily basis. I watched Andrew Cuomo and Anthony Fauci in the USA update the public on the latest about the virus and the numbers of people infected as well as the number of deaths. Intensive care units in hospitals were overwhelmed, as were funeral homes. The media photos of mass burials around the world will stay in my mind for always. 

There was nowhere to go, so we went nowhere. We ordered food delivered to our home from time to time. I stocked up on face masks in anticipation of the coming winter; I knew the pandemic would not be over by then. Last March, however, I had a different kind of hope than I do now. Having never experienced a pandemic before, I went into it, probably like many others, with expectations that the scientists would have it covered and that it might also just die out like the flu viruses often do after wintertime. But the infection rate of this virus didn't seem to wax and wane with the seasons. It worsened after vacation times, whether it was summer vacation, autumn vacation, or Christmas vacation. 

The pandemic was the year that Trump got louder and louder, and grew bigger and bigger until he finally burst. He lost the presidential election, refused to accept that loss, and fomented a rebellion and a capitol invasion that will forever in my mind be linked to the year of the pandemic. People lost their minds, literally, and followed an unstable man into an unstable and divided future. 

I worked from home, and found out that I enjoyed it, until I realized that it might be a permanent situation. But I stayed focused and got my work done, usually by 3 pm each day. That left time in March for watching the HBO series My Brilliant Friend, which I looked forward to watching each day like I used to do when I followed specific soap operas on television many moons ago. When April came, I went to work in my garden after my workday was done. That got me outdoors and kept me physically active and busy so I had no time to think about the virus. It stayed that way until early November, when the garden was closed for the winter. And then came Christmas, followed by the months of January and February which I liken to a wasteland for all they contribute to my life at present. But we are healthy so I can't complain. As the one-year anniversary approaches, I am also glad for Netflix and HBO--for all the movies and series they offer--some of them excellent. There is always something to watch on the streaming channels, unlike regular television channels that are a complete wasteland and waste of time. I also have mostly given up listening to the news--it's depressing and keeps us stuck in the same mindset.

I've realized that having a garden and being to work in it from April until November kept me sane. It got me outdoors together with my fellow gardeners, and we could chat with each other at safe distances. No one took any stupid chances; we behaved and followed the rules for not getting infected. It worked. I am grateful for my garden because it saved me. It provided peace of mind when I could not find it anywhere else. Besides the activities one has to do in a garden in order for it to flourish, the garden let me think of other things, like why did the honeybees gather at the birdbath to drink water. At times there were twenty or thirty of them lined up on the rim of the birdbath. It was an incredible sight to behold, and I loved it. Or the day when the sparrows decided to bathe together en masse in the birdbath--chirping and flapping their wings while enjoying their bath. And then they would all fly away together, and then fly back to the birdbath together. It was truly a communal bee- and bird-bath last summer. 

I bring this up now because I cannot wait to be able to get back to my garden this year. January and February have had me climbing the walls of our apartment. It was bitter cold for most of January, so going outdoors was a chore. I did so anyway since the sun shone and the days were lovely. But cold it was. Just being outdoors kept me sane, even if I froze doing it. But I miss the interactions with other people. Humans are not made for isolation. I went back to work more during the past few months, despite the continued recommendation to work from home. I needed to see co-workers in person. I discovered that I hate zoom meetings and most things digital as far as work-related activities are concerned. I want real-life people that I can physically relate to in real-time, not virtual. I would prefer a room full of masked people that had gathered for a meeting, rather than a zoom meeting. My heart goes out to all those who live alone; it must be difficult whether you are young or old. I feel for students and young people whose social lives have been severely restricted. And yet, what else is there to look forward to if we don't follow the rules? My sense of hope has changed; it is tinged with a sorrow for mankind in case life never really returns to normal. I hope it does, but you never know. And some of that sorrow is for myself, since I never for one moment considered that my yearly trip to NY would disappear last summer and most likely this summer. I miss the other life I have in NY with my good friends and my family. 

I feel for people who don't have a haven, a refuge to go to, to get away from the news, the virus, the regulations and restrictions, the slow vaccination process, the new virus mutant variants, the constant talk about how many people are infected and how many have died. It's all too much, and it overwhelms the mind. I've talked to several people about fuzzy brain function lately, due to the anxiety and stress of living with the pandemic day in and day out. One can only hope that it comes to an end very soon. 

When people think they are god

Time moves us on, away from unpleasant events and unpleasant people. Given enough time, chaos evolves into calmness and life begins to feel more normal. Balance is restored. That is the way of the world. Nature for example, continues to do what it always has done. Provide us with beautiful views of sunrises and sunsets, of pristine lakes, of snow-covered mountains, gorgeous gardens and green forests. But where there is beauty there is also brutality. Where there is life there is also death and decay. Where there is paradise on earth, we know that there is also hell on earth. We know that from all of the nature documentaries that drive those points home. We are careful when we are in nature, because it is wild and unpredictable. There are earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis, landslides--natural catastrophes that we cannot prevent or warn about with 100% effectiveness. We cannot just wander onto a mountain covered in snow and ignore avalanche warnings. We would not sail a boat out onto the ocean in the middle of a hurricane. We use reason to create a relationship with nature that we can live with, in order to co-exist peacefully with it. Sometimes we try to subdue it and sometimes we are successful at it. But we cannot tame it. 

Nature is a reminder that there is good and evil in the world. Both exist independently of man. If humans had never set foot on the earth, there would still be gorgeous sunsets and hellish volcanoes and tsunamis. There would still be gentle animals and brutal ones. There would still be life and death. 

Human beings did set foot on the earth. Mankind became a part of nature, and has even tried to dominate nature. But humans will never succeed at that. Human beings have tried their best during all the centuries to dominate nature and other humans in the quest for power and greed. Many humans don't understand this obsession with power and greed; I am one of them. When this obsession gets out of hand, as it has especially during the past decade, nature supplies a correction that we are forced to focus on because if we don't, it means that many human beings will die. The current pandemic is a good example of such a correction. A vaccine may help to control it, but there will come other pandemics. There have always been, and always will be, bacteria and viruses that infect animals and humans. They exist in nature, independently of man's existence. Sometimes human beings make critical mistakes, that lead to bacteria and viruses getting the upper hand. Sometimes those mistakes are made in the name of greed and power. Hubris is a major failing in human beings, and has far-reaching consequences. Hubris says that man can do whatever he likes in and with nature. He cannot. 

I bring all this up in light of the current political situation in the USA. Nature does not care about Donald Trump, nor does he care about nature. That is a problem by itself. Corrections will continue to come regardless of whether he cares or not. But if he was more respectful toward everything, he might contribute to a world where respect for the power of nature increased. As it stands now, he does not understand his role as leader or even why he exists. He has abused his position and disgraced our country. His gods are greed and power. The irony is not lost on me that it is under his administration that a pandemic arose. From a scientific point of view, I know that it is merely a random event in nature; it could just as well have arisen under Biden. But its emergence in the age of Trump is simply one more reminder of the importance of having respect for nature, for its wildness, its unpredictability, its brutality. It is a reminder that we cannot ignore the natural world because it doesn't 'fit' with our plans. He is not a person for whom respect is important. I would imagine that if he could, he would bend and destroy nature to suit his purposes. He thinks he is God.

The second wave

The second wave of the virus is upon us, and the world around me officially feels surreal at this point. I have NO idea where the year went. Really. I know I worked, first at home from mid-March until the end of June when I had some vacation, and then I went back to work in early August. I've worked mostly at home but go into the office a couple of days a week. But now the second wave is upon us and we're being told to work from home, not to meet in groups of more than five people, and to wear masks in public. The health officials are very worried about the coming winter. Me, I try not to read the news about the pandemic. It only ends up scaring me. But I end up reading it anyway just to stay informed. But I don't dwell on it. 

Every now and then my thoughts become apocalyptic, as in, is this the beginning of some kind of end for mankind? All around us, businesses that we took for granted--restaurants, hotels, airlines, theaters, other venues--have altered their way of doing things or have closed, and thus altered our way of living. It scares me to think that many of them may not survive. I wish I was a multi-millionaire so that I could support them all. I feel so sorry for so many people who are out of work, who don't know what to do next. It's not like they can snap their fingers and get a new job, pronto. Life never works like that. 

I told my husband the other day that I'm glad I've learned how to preserve seeds. I have seeds saved for next year's plantings--pumpkin, butternut squash, zucchini--and I have seed potatoes that will be ready for planting come next March. We also have different berry bushes in the garden. If worse came to worse, we could live on potatoes, pumpkin, squash, and berries. It's possible to pickle pumpkin and squash, and make jams, jellies and juice from the different berries. As long as there's flour, we can make bread. We wouldn't starve, but our diets would be much different than they are now--mostly meat-based. 

In the midst of all this surrealness, there is a surreal presidential election going on in my home country. It is an election that has divided people into two camps--those who will vote for the preservation of decency and ethics in America, and those who will vote for boorishness and an utter disregard for ethical behavior. So strange that it has come down to that. Those in the latter camp will say that they don't want a typical politician, so they're voting for Trump. I remind them that what you see is what you will get. He cares for no one but himself. All others are expendable. 

Where is God, people ask? Wrong question. The question is more, why did people turn away from God? Why have we? It's not about going to church or following the rules of Catholicism or any other religion slavishly. It's about 'actions speak louder than words'. It's about loving our neighbors as ourselves, about caring about what happens to others. It's about good behavior, about not being a boor or a brute, about not being careless or irresponsible or unkind. It's about being Christian toward others. Yes, charity begins at home, so we need to get our homes in order first, but that does not preclude our being nice to others, showing empathy, loving others in a charitable way, ridding our hearts of anger and discord. When we turn away from trying to behave better, we turn away from God. And we can only blame ourselves when the proverbial s**t hits the fan, as it always does. We have no idea how many people will die in this second wave. For all those who poopoo the pandemic, who think it is a hoax to prevent Trump from being re-elected, who think that liberals are on a crusade to destroy America, I say, wake up before it is too late. Just wake up. You are living with blinders on. Even Pope Francis, for whom I have great respect, has said that people who behave like Trump are not Christian. He said, and I quote 

"A person who thinks only about building walls, wherever they may be, and not of building bridges, is not Christian." 

Trump's response was "If and when the Vatican is attacked by ISIS, which as everyone knows is ISIS’s ultimate trophy, I can promise you that the Pope would have only wished and prayed that Donald Trump would have been President because this would not have happened. ISIS would have been eradicated unlike what is happening now with our all talk, no action politicians"..........

Kudos to Pope Francis for taking on 45 and the GOP. I admire him for taking a stand, for having an opinion. You can agree or not, but no one will ever convince me that the behavior I've seen in 45 and the GOP is Christian behavior. You can talk until you are blue in the face. You will never convince me. 

Support the Tarrytown Music Hall

I've written about the Tarrytown Music Hall in earlier posts. I have fond memories of going to many a movie there when I was a teenager in Tarrytown. Now the Music Hall hosts live events--concerts, shows and the like. They've had to cancel their bookings in 2020 due to the Covid-19 pandemic and have been closed for seven months. Here's a good way to support them during this tough time. I donated and hope you will too. 

https://tarrytownmusichall.org/save-our-stage/?fbclid=IwAR0QDa7aiPrSYIRXvTBl5wvfuHQcPT2qGN8Dm_js4B8pi4c9e7j6qwQiOvc

The new normal

We will see what the winter brings in terms of the severity of a second wave of Covid-19 virus. Europe is currently dealing with the second wave, as is the USA. Here in Norway, the health authorities do their best to control the situation, but of course no one can predict what the winter will bring. 

I envision permanent changes in how we live. For starters, the disinfecting and sanitizing that go on will likely continue, both at home and in public places. And that's fine with me. Better too much of it than too little. I think we had gotten a bit lax with keeping public places clean. It's good to have the reminder that public bathrooms in workplaces, restaurants, malls and other places need to be cleaned regularly. Ditto for elevators, stairwells, escalators--any of the places where people are constantly touching buttons, railings, etc. My workplace had cut back on office cleaning each day to save money; the cleaning lady was coming in a few times a week. Now I see her there each day if I have gone into work a few days in a row, as has happened during the past few weeks. She cleans the hallway floors each day as well. 

Working from home a few days a week will be the new normal for many people who are able to do their work from home (like me). I go into work when I need to, either for a small meeting or to update files on my workplace server. I will alternate between home and office for the time being. As I've written many times, I enjoy working from home, as long as I have access to necessary email accounts and files. It hasn't been a problem thus far. The only thing I really dislike are zoom/skype meetings; mostly because there are technical problems, without fail. Someone's microphone or video or both doesn't/don't work, or the video is squiggly, or the sound breaks up. An optimal way to communicate? No. I'd rather have a socially-distanced meeting in a large room, and have said as much to those who arrange meetings. 

Wearing masks will probably also be something that most people will incorporate into their daily lives. I took one of Oslo's trams yesterday for the first time in ages. Masks are required on board all buses, trams, and trains. Most people comply with the guidelines; some few don't, as always. I carry a cloth mask and disposable masks in my backpack with me at all times, as well as hand disinfectant. I find the cloth mask more comfortable to wear and easier to breathe with, so that's my go-to mask. The disposable ones are ok but a bit more stifling. The nice thing with cloth masks is that they are not disposable, they can be washed with soap and dried and used over and over. That appeals to the environmentally-conscious part of me. This pandemic has been terrible for the environment; just take a look around the next time you are at a bus or tram stop, at all of the garbage cans overflowing with disposable masks. Ditto for the single-use wipes at home. I try to limit their use, but it's difficult at times because they're so accessible. Not a good excuse, I know. 

Stores and restaurants in Oslo have been good about social distancing; chairs and tables are placed at a good distance from neighboring tables. Plexiglass shields have become commonplace to separate shoppers from cashiers. Supermarkets had already gone over to checkout scanners a few years ago, so the stores have placed plexiglass shields between each of the scanners to protect shoppers. Screens are wiped down regularly. Hand disinfectant bottles are placed strategically at each checkout scanner. and at the entrances and exits of most supermarkets and stores. It all works, and it is interesting to observe what we can actually get used to without too much moaning and groaning. 

Visits to doctors and dentists have not been a problem. Both doctors and dentists have their procedures for how they receive patients, and following them is not a big deal. If such procedures continue even after the pandemic is over, it will be fine with me. We are all more attentive now to good hygiene in our homes and public places; as I mentioned above, many places had become lax when it came to good hygiene, in order to save money. 

I have not gone to the movies since before the pandemic started. I miss doing that. The theaters are open again and are advertising films and encouraging us to go to the movies. So I will. I'll have my mask with me and I'll sit where we're told to sit. Fine with me. The same with churchgoing; churches reopened at the end of the summer after having been closed since mid-March. Their procedure for attendance is to dispense tickets for the masses. I haven't been back yet, but I'm planning on it. I don't know what traveling will be like by next summer; I'm hoping to be able to get to the States for a wedding, among other things, next July. We'll see. I'm crossing my fingers that it all works out. 

So little by little, life returns to some semblance of normalcy. Albeit a different normalcy--the new normal, which if followed for the next few years, will become just normal. Humans can adapt; we do so in order to carry on with the business of living. 

Things are going downhill

Six months into the pandemic, and things are starting to go downhill in terms of how people behave or do their jobs. I'm not sure why, but a good indication is that most (young) people seem to have forgotten how to social distance. There are very few of them that remember to do so, and it is always me who has to move away from them if I meet them on the sidewalk or in a store. It's incredibly annoying. Add to that the ones who hold parties with many people, and you get the picture. For them, the pandemic is over, if it ever even occurred. They are hopeless cases. Case in point: the recent bunker party that nearly ended in the deaths of many of the attendees. In my opinion, not only is there a coronavirus pandemic, but there's an epidemic of stupidity and idiocy. You can read about this incredibly stupid rave party here:   https://www.newsinenglish.no/2020/08/31/two-charged-after-illegal-bunker-party/

There are other things that have happened during the past two weeks that are an indication that people's attention spans are getting less focused and that work output is getting sloppier. The first situation concerns online shopping; I know that a lot of people are shopping on the web now, so there is probably a backlog of orders most places. I ordered four items two weeks ago from an online pharmacy here in Norway. I have ordered from before (three times) without any problems. This time, my order was not confirmed and I had to contact them to get a confirmation. Then today, I got my shipment, but it was someone else's order, so now I am in the process of trying to contact the company via telephone to find out how to return the items at no cost to me. Of course I was put on hold, because as always, there is always a long queue of people waiting to be served, which I never believe is the reality. It's rather that they only have one or two persons dealing with telephone customer service. They would prefer that you contacted them by email or used their chatbot function (which is a piece of garbage). Finally I got through, and of course the onus is on me to prove that I got the wrong shipment. I had to take photos of what I received and photos of the box the items were sent in, and send an email with the photos to customer service. I did all that, so now I wait to see what happens. I cancelled my original order and asked for a refund. I have no patience for this crap. 

Today, out of the blue, I got tossed off my hospital's email server--no warning, no explanation, no nothing. So now I have no functioning email account and cannot receive emails from people. I have two work email accounts, none of which can be accessed from home. It's pathetic. The IT service people are trying to help but they have no idea what's wrong. It won't be solved; just an intuition, but the explanations that have been advanced so far don't hold water. I could connect early this morning, and then suddenly around mid-morning, I couldn't. Go figure. It's a good thing I am retiring sooner than later, because I no longer have any patience for this. And hopefully this isn't an omen for how the rest of the week is going to be. But you never know. 

 

Past the halfway mark and moving toward 2021

 

Reflections on the pandemic

Pandemics seem to bring out the stranger and hitherto hidden sides of people. Visions of a dystopian world or even an apocalyptic one have created paranoia on the one hand and an intense need for control on the other. Some people walk around with a simmering rage, as seen in the many news stories of late about people who deliberately spit and cough on others or become violent toward others for either wearing a face mask or not wearing one. Others have sunk into a low-grade depression, convinced that nothing they do will make a difference one way or another. I’ve watched enough apocalyptic sci-fi movies to know that the word ‘control’ loses all meaning when mankind is faced with extinction of one sort or another. Or perhaps more aptly put, control becomes more about creating a kind of order in one’s life rather than trying to create order and control in society at large. Because the truth is that the idea of ‘control’ is an illusion in the best of times; chronic illness can wipe away that control over our own lives in no time. Just ask any patient with a chronic degenerative neurological disease, or terminal cancer. The diseases make the rules, patients don’t. We are lucky to live in well-ordered societies that function because there is a modicum of laws that keep it functioning, but it doesn’t take much to wipe a law-abiding society away. All you need is an emphasis on ‘me first’, ‘my rights’, ‘I am entitled to’, ‘my freedoms’ when the health authorities ask people to maintain social distancing, not travel, and to wear masks. The latter hasn’t occurred yet in Oslo, but it will, mark my words. The emphasis on ‘my freedoms trump your rules’ is paramount in our society. You just need to look around and witness the large numbers of young people who ignore the social distancing rules, who party and carry on as though there was no pandemic. Or the people you meet on the city sidewalks, mostly young but some old, who walk three abreast and don’t budge an inch as you pass. More often than not, it’s me who moves to the side to create distance between us. My best guesstimate is that two of ten people follow the suggested rules for social distancing. Even some of the elderly seem not to care about social distancing. One nice exception was a middle-aged couple that began to walk single-file when they saw me coming, and we acknowledged each other as we passed each other. It’s as though those who ‘get it’ are part of a secret club when we meet each other; we exchange knowing glances. Because we know that the rest of society doesn’t get it. I’ve watched and read enough apocalyptic sci-fi shows and books respectively to know that this is how the world really is. The majority of people carry on as though nothing has happened, or that what has happened doesn’t really affect them personally. Until it does. And by then it’s usually too late. If people could at least follow these simple rules, we could maintain some semblance of control—the idea of control in any case. The coronavirus doesn’t care about any of it; it will continue doing what viruses do, infecting hosts and making them sick, until it is stopped in one way or another.

I try to follow the advice given by the health authorities. I have purchased face masks in the event that we are asked to use them. Come autumn and winter, I will use them when I go grocery shopping or out to any crowded place. Right now it’s summer and I’m in my garden, alone for the most part. That God-given haven disappears in wintertime. I will continue to work from home, shop online, and grocery shop once a week. I am not sure what winter will be like in the psychological sense; every now and then I get inklings of what a world plagued by a long-term pandemic could really be like. I know there are a lot of mentally-fragile and anxious people in the world, and their needs cannot be ignored. I fear sometimes that the healthcare systems will be overwhelmed not only with virus sufferers but also with people who cannot cope with the current restricted life, especially if that type of life continues for another year or two. I don’t know the future, but I can imagine it. At present, a second coronavirus wave is building in Europe and no one knows how deadly that could be. Without a vaccine, I cannot see how we are going to get past this pandemic. Until that time, we can keep the virus in check by abiding by the rules laid out for us by the health authorities. One can hope that we have learned something from the first coronavirus wave.   

Surreal times and the reset button

Since the pandemic started, a reset button has been pushed for my life. I follow the same routines, get up at the same time, shower, have breakfast, and then start my work day. But it’s not the same as leaving the house to go to my office. Forcing us to stay home forced a retuning of the way I live my daily life. I start my work day at the same time as I did before. But I live my work day much differently than I did before. I’ve grown to like and enjoy the freedom of being my own master, and luckily, I won’t have to return to the old way of doing things, even when we are asked to return to our offices. I’ve made some important decisions that I will share with you over the coming months. Suffice it to say that my life will be very different at this time next year, God willing.

These are surreal times. Who would have thought one year ago that we would be here—talking about a virus that has become front and center in our lives? It’s the main topic in all the news and social media, and in conversation with family and friends. None of us knows what to expect or when it will be safe again to do the things we have taken for granted for most of our lives. Wearing masks will become part of our lives, using disinfectant on our hands likewise. We will think twice before we go to events where a lot of people will be attending. We will think twice about going to concerts, to sporting events, even to church. We will perhaps be more reserved about hugging and touching others. I don’t know how I feel about it all; I alternate between feeling numb and feeling a bit melancholy. And when I don’t feel numb or melancholy, I am actually content. Because there is nothing we can do with the situation that has come upon us except to adjust to it as best we can. I’d love to travel to NY in August, but that won’t happen. Even if I wanted to, SAS cancelled the flight I had booked. And anyway, it’s not safe to travel to the USA right now. The EU has decided against letting Americans travel to Europe at present due to the high number of Covid19 cases in the USA. Regardless of whose fault it is or isn’t, the fact remains that the virus has hit the USA very hard. Questionable leadership has not made the situation any better.

I needed the reset. I needed the abruptness of the sudden stop to make me take a good long look around me, to see what is important and what isn’t. Much of my poetry during the past five years has hinted at the changes to come in my life, but I never considered that an outside player—a virus-- would be calling the shots. I no longer need the work world the way I did before, neither for intellectual stimulation nor for social interaction. There is very little of either nowadays, and it took being at home full-time to realize that. The ever-replenishing fountain of motivation that work used to be for me is gone—dried-up. I still have ideas for projects, but funding and personnel to realize them are non-existent. I have become a paper pusher, and even though much of what I do for my department is actually useful and I’m glad to be of service, I’m a paper pusher nonetheless and it’s not what I signed up for. In the long run it won’t be enough for me. If I had wanted to become an administrator, I would have pursued a business degree and not a doctorate in science. But it’s ok, because I’ve made specific decisions about how to deal with all of it. The pandemic gave me the time to figure it out and to make the decision. There are silver linings to every cloud; there is always something positive to take away from a negative situation. And as long as we have our health, we will continue to cope and to eventually get past this. Being at home is a good time to learn more about ourselves and the people with whom we share our lives. It is possible to be content in the midst of the chaos and unrest, sickness and death that exist around us and globally. It is possible to be realistically optimistic that life will be good again. Global society has had its reset button pushed, and hopefully most people are retuning their lives in order to meet the new world order.

These are strange times

These are strange times, apocalyptic times (that's sometimes how it feels to me). Climate change, weird weather, extreme weather, bee death, relentless forest fires in Australia, and now the corona virus (I'm waiting for the spread of a zombie virus). I keep telling my husband that I'll know what to do if the zombie apocalypse arrives; after all, I've watched almost eight seasons of The Walking Dead. And I did learn something--that we humans are our own worst enemy, in terms of how we will treat each other, especially if a longer-term pandemic does become the reality concerning the corona virus. But people are afraid and I understand that. As of today, the number of confirmed infected persons in Norway is 56, but there are many people who are quarantined, waiting for symptoms to develop (or not) after exposure to infected people. I work in the healthcare profession, at a hospital where the contagion began at the eye department with a doctor who had recently come home from vacation in northern Italy. Unfortunate circumstances led to some of his co-workers being infected, and also that over four hundred patients had to be contacted because they had been in for consultations during the several days it took to confirm that the doctor was indeed infected with the virus. Information and status updates are one thing; containment is another discussion entirely.
I'm not sure what to make of it all. I take precautions--washing my hands, sneezing into my elbow, working at home when I can, but the scientist in me tells me that it will be very hard to contain the virus. It will spread. Whether or not it will lead to fatalities is another question. I hope not. I understand the difficult (nearly impossible) job that hospital leaders face. Should they tell all employees to stay home? They cannot, because they need their staff to take care of sick patients and to perform scheduled operations and tests. Patients could die of non-virus-related causes if they don't get the care they need. There is a risk associated with all decisions. For example, potentially-infected people can be quarantined, but can you police them day and night? Can you ensure that they won't go outside their homes to shop, walk the dog, etc.? And who will be doing the policing? Can you quarantine whole families? After all, if one person is quarantined, he or she will come into contact with family members, unless he or she is shunned by family members. I'm not sure how it all can work according to plan. The human factor has to be factored in--the factor that says that a sick or infected person will be cared for by his or her family members. How do you avoid that? Time will tell how all of this will develop. But we have already seen the effects of 'pandemic' thinking on global economies and the stock market. It's hard to predict how long all of this will last. We can hope that it will be over fairly soon. The question will be what have we learned from this experience. One can hope that it will help us to prepare better for the next eventuality.