Herd immunity. You hear it a lot these days, but what does it mean? Such a bucolic term–first used for livestock, then for lab mice, and then for us. How much does it actually apply to human beings in a pandemic?
There are some questions you’d rather not ask. Because the answer might make things worse. “Is COVID airborne,” is that kind of question. A yes answer might lead to more precautions, more places to avoid, more rules. Still, the news is giving this issue a lot of coverage this week, so we have to ask: Why now? And what difference does it make?
I went to the DMV in Laguna Hills today. My driver’s license expires on August 6, 2020, and since that is my 75th birthday I have to renew in person to get an eye exam, take the written test, and no doubt a new photo as well. I tend to take these deadlines seriously, so I’ve been trying to find out what to do for a month. It hasn’t been easy.
July 6, 2020 Are you getting enough coronavirus information on the these days? If not, I have plenty of ideas Continue reading
“The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there,” wrote L. P. Hartley in 1953. If you grew up in a foreign country, that really rings true. If the country had an American community, there would be some kind of celebration with games, rides, and picnics–maybe even band music and fireworks. Or you might be on your own, but it’s July and it’s summer and you can always celebrate that.
There was a scare at the Tehran American Dependent’s School in 1955. One of the teachers came down with polio. We children were all rushed downtown to the Army Hospital to be injected with a brand new vaccine so that we could return to school safely.
Am I the only one who saw a disconnect when the state requirement that everyone over 65 should stay at home until we have a vaccine, while almost all the epidemiologists and politicians seen on television referring to us as the “most vulnerable” were themselves well over 65? The venerable Dr. Fauci himself will turn 80 this very Christmas Eve.
Back on Day 56 I asked, “How long?” That was May 5. Fifty days ago. I’m not asking anymore. I’ve simply reset my clock for about 18 months. Instead of railing against the plans I made and the things I miss, I’ve decided to align my expectations with the timetable of the four influenza pandemics of the twentieth century. There’s no point in asking “are we there yet” 156 miles into a 550-mile journey.