Go fund yourself...
Things are often okay--until they are not. I abruptly vacated my month long idyllic trip to an island off the coast of North Carolina. Not because I felt imminent danger but I knew something was off. Rumors were swirling about potential COVID19 positive inhabitants hiding out on the island, the state shutting down the ferry service, or even worse--folks high up on legislative ladder trying to hang on to the farce as long as feasible.
The island had been battered by hurricanes and now North Carolina is coping with visitation by a plague.
Done and done. We would be stranded.
I was employed by a top Pharmaceutical company during 9/11 so although there was the right amount of fear and reverence--ginned up by being stowed under staircases until the final plane was accounted for--this feels different. We are all in the same boat, but no idea where we are headed.
Those of us with epidemiology chops know when we are being fed pollyanna inspired bunk. It isn't good news that there are few diagnosed cases if we have no idea how many people have been tested. Or how many tests are available. Or the limits of an already strained healthcare system. Or the plans for managing the onslaught of morbidity arriving within the next 2 weeks...
The Johns Hopkins COVID19 Resource Interactive Map (copyright 2020 Johns Hopkins University, all rights reserved) Hit chevron >> below for legend
Dozens of speaking engagements have been cancelled, ultra-marathon event, projects put on hold, our town is pretty much folded up and put away until we get to the other side of the pandemic. It feels like running to the top of a hill that you never reach--your heart is pounding and you are anticipating the rush of climbing the pinnacle but alas--nope.
There are dozens of gofundme campaigns swirling around my inbox. For the first time ever, many of us are going to have to learn to say no.
We are scared perhaps or maybe just cautious. Will projects reschedule? What about all the conferences demanding time for speaking or workshops?
The new paradigm may sprinkle caution in the mix--limiting large gatherings for the foreseeable future.
Its time to unpack the bags for awhile. I always keep a "go bag" of sorts ready to drive up to D.C. or head to the ocean. It is a weird feeling. I suggest leaning into the normal.
My family gathered on our porch yesterday--in the middle of the afternoon--for a slow lunch. My husband, sons Harrison and Ryland, along with Harrison's. girlfriend Kestyn enjoyed something I haven't offered in quite a long time. A handmade chopped rotisserie chicken salad, sliced fresh challah, crudités, butternut squash soup, and iced green tea. And my undivided attention. Although I am building a few online workshops to help us all level-up during this down time, the urgency isn't there.
Let's stay in touch--here is an archived webinar I did sharing insights on where to find data resources.
Let me know what you think...
I am listening.