Day Whatever of Shelter-In-Place

This sucks. We're lucky.

Sunnydale (Healthcare for the Hellmouth) has an overflow of Covid-19 cases, so much so that they're removing the windows from some of the critical-care units in order to lessen the load on the air filtration systems. IV pumps and ventilators are out in the hallways and nurses are working with runners so that only one person at a time gets exposed to coronavirus.

They haven't started multiple people on one vent yet, but it's only a matter of time.

Across town at L'Hôpital Bijou, my current employer, things are. . . .weird. Previously, we did primarily complex orthopedic and plastics cases, with a few urology or general surgeries thrown in. Now we're acting as relief for the bigger hospitals, doing surgeries that are technically elective but probably shouldn't wait. After all, there's only so long you can let a torn bicep tendon or internally-amputated ankle sit before things start to freeze up and quit working. Our patients are also a whole lot sicker than normal. It's been a long time since I've played rapid-response on a patient.

We have almost enough PPE. I scored an N95 mask from Mandy, who used to work with me at Sunnydale. I have one surgical mask to wear over it for the duration, or until the damn thing just wears out. We have gloves and sanitizer, mostly. We'd have more if people hadn't stolen them all three weeks ago, but I kind of understand. People are scared and they want to protect themselves.

We had one poor sod from OR come down with Covid-19 and expose three other people in the process. One of our docs died this week from the virus.

There are still plenty of idiots in the streets, on the jogging trails, and in the springs. It was unseasonably hot a couple of weeks ago, and the local swimming hole was full of folks who weren't thinking straight.

I envied them. I would love to go swimming right now, even though it's 60* out.

Food hasn't been much of a problem. I've had to get creative about a few things, like digging out my old Joy of Cooking to remember exactly how to cut up a chicken, but there's chicken to be had. Plenty of fresh produce but no peanut butter; no yeast or flour for love or money. Trying to find toilet paper is pointless; I installed a bidet two weeks ago and have been feeling very European since. Strangely, my diet has gotten more varied rather than less, and is full of fresh produce. Nobody buys it because it won't keep, I guess, or because (since this is a college town at heart) they don't know what to do with a head of lettuce and a couple of jicama.

When this is all over, I'm going to do two things, in this order: go swimming in the springs and begin a long and careful detox from booze.

Oh! Possible good news: the epidemiologists at the medical school are predicting our statewide peak will come in mid- to late-May, rather than June to July.

Happy Christmas 2018.