It’s snowing today, starting this afternoon. It’s not a blizzard. It comes down slowly and peacefully. Occasionally I see people and their kids and dogs out walking in it, likely grateful for the fresh air. It’s hard to be stuck indoors, self-isolating because of the COVID-19 epidemic. We play cribbage.
Sena tried the grocery pickup thing in order to avoid crowds. She ordered yesterday and picked up this afternoon. For the most part, the shoppers did OK. We noticed that as she was ordering, items would be sold out even before and sometimes after (we found out later) the ordering was done.
But we were able to get toilet paper.
This epidemic changes your life in many ways. I’m in the latter stage of phased retirement and I’ll go back on the consultation-liaison psychiatry service in April. I expect it to be busy, but I’ll likely not do as many face-to-face interviews, depending on the situations in the emergency room and the general hospital.
I probably won’t carry around my camp stool, which I use to sit with patients when I interview them. It’s just another item that the coronavirus can stick to.
We’re told not to wear neckties because they’re germy, but I gave that up a long time ago for banded collar shirts. But now I’ll have to remember to keep my arms bare up to the elbows.
We’re also reminded to avoid elevators so as to maintain social distance (6 feet or 2 meters, roughly). I’ve been taking the stairs for years. Many people avoid the stairs.
I’ve gotten used to handwashing because I’m a hospitalist. I’ll wear masks a lot more frequently as well as don and doff personal protective equipment as needed more often.
I’m older and I worry a little bit about belonging to a higher risk age group for COVID-19 and being exposed more. On the other hand, I’m pretty healthy compared to a lot of patients younger than me.
I’m glad the next generation of doctors will be taking over, though.
I usually never notice how pretty the snow is.
Go Retire Psychiatrist 