Pandemic trip slowed by detours, dead ends, no rest stops
"Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"
We've been stuck in the back seat of this 2020 Pandemic for soooo loooong. We started our journey Jan. 24, when the Illinois Department of Public Health announced the first confirmed Illinois case of the "2019 Novel Coronavirus" in a statement in conjunction with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and health departments from Chicago and Cook County.
"The risk to the general public remains low at this time," the statement assured us. "People in the community do not need to change their behavior based on this news; for example, they don't need to cancel events, avoid mass gatherings, or wear gloves and masks in public."
In other words, "Don't worry, kids. Our destination is just around this next corner."
But by February, our leaders were fueling up for a slightly longer trip, setting up a hotline, implementing testing and issuing precautions for schools.
"Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"
On Feb. 26, our president promised we were close, as we had just 15 people infected, "and the 15 within a couple of days is going to be down to close to zero." On March 11, the National Basketball Association made us detour by suspending its season, and the next day the NCAA closed our "March Madness" diversion exit by canceling its popular basketball tournaments.
"Don't be fooled into thinking your community is immune," Gov. J.B. Pritzker told us March 12, as the state canceled major sporting events until May 1, and canceled all events with more than 1,000 people for 30 days. On March 21, the stay-at-home order closed our schools, dine-in restaurants and bars through April 7.
So come April 7, we were asking, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"
Nope. Probably by May 1. We think we can see the finish line with the return of baseball and the reopening of bars, and then we feel the leaders driving our 2020 Pandemic tapping the breaks again.
Waiting is hard. Waiting for an indeterminate amount of time is harder.
"Time is the longest distance between two places," playwright Tennessee Williams observed in his "The Glass Menagerie" masterpiece.
I remember covering the sentencing of a 19-year-old convicted of a Lake County murder and sentenced to 50 years in prison. Knowing he could cut that time in half through good behavior in prison, he immediately embraced the motto, "Out the door at 44." Even a teenager who would spend the most important years of his life behind bars took comfort in knowing the exact moment his punishment would end.
While watching episodes of "Tiger King" with some members of my family during the early days of quarantine, I'd catch myself thinking, "Only two more episodes" and I will be free of these characters. As hot and humid as summer can be, we know fall and winter eventually will arrive in eight-to-12 weeks and change all that. Companywide Zoom meetings will end within the hour. But with COVID-19, even those of us who haven't died, become critically ill, lost loved ones, lost our jobs or lost our insurance, are still grouchy about how long this trip is taking.
Is that grand vacation you had to cancel this spring going to be rescheduled for next spring? When will you be able to watch the Cubs or the Sox play in person? When will you be able to go to a Chicago Bears game? Do you feel comfortable planning your Thanksgiving dinner seating arrangements? Is it safe to accept invitations to celebrate religious holidays this winter with friends and family? Can we plan graduation parties for May, 2021?
While "unprecedented" is a good bet to be the word of the year, "when" is the most important. We have been staggering toward the finish line for more than five months. We see signs such as "Vaccine Ahead," but no one knows for sure if we'll get there in another four months, a year, sometime in 2022 or never.
All we can do is wear masks, wash our hands, practice social distancing and continue asking, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"