Hey, it’s been a while since I last blogged! During this quarantine, I’m getting back into journaling and blogging with a personal touch, hoping to keep both you and me entertained. You might feel like you’ve missed a bunch of updates, but I’ll try to catch you up as we go. In the meantime, stay safe and keep washing your hands.
It’s already Day 4 of quarantine. The response to the health crisis here in San Diego has been rather disappointing. To say people are careless would be an understatement. Last weekend, folks were gathering on the beach and having BBQs at our campground. The most unsettling part was the reaction on the military base where my husband works.
Unlike civilians, people on military bases don’t necessarily follow state governor directives, so many just carried on as usual. There was even an event on base where spouses brought all their kids, and offices weren’t downsized to essential personnel. The medical response was particularly shocking.
If someone shows flu-like symptoms, they get a piece of paper instructing them to self-quarantine at home, but to give that paper to their boss in person. Not exactly the best way to #flattenthecurve. My husband experienced this; he got three days off just to be cautious. If he had COVID-19, the whole office could have been exposed. I thought the military would be more informed and responsive.
My elderly neighbors also worry me; they come close to me and my dogs. They don’t know where I’ve been, so why assume I’m healthy? I’m trying not to be paranoid, but I don’t want anyone spoiling my quarantine efforts and making me sick.
This situation reminds me of stories I’ve read about WWII Jewish ghettos and the HIV spread in the 80s in San Francisco. Being in the campground feels uncertain—we don’t know if we’ll be allowed to stay through all of this. We could be asked to leave at any moment. Some people have moved out, while others stay just in case. Are we going to react too late and end up on the streets?
We’ve been asking to stay, but it sometimes feels like we’re just trying to save ourselves without caring about our neighbors. Should only active-duty members stay, and retirees leave? How did we get to a point where we only care about being in the “saved” group?
The HIV memories come up when people assume I’m healthy just because I don’t show symptoms. I feel like coughing whenever someone gets too close, but I’m also afraid of getting kicked out of the campground. Remember when people in the 80s assumed they were safe just because they trusted each other? That led to so many unnecessary deaths.
No one seems to care now. Seeing people having a BBQ at the campground was frustrating. I wanted to say something but kept quiet to avoid getting everyone kicked out because of a few irresponsible actions.
Living in the RV, we avoid roommates or neighbors who don’t take care of themselves, which makes the uncertainty a bit easier. The scary part is, if we do everything right, it will seem like we overreacted. People might forget all the rules about social distancing and hygiene and we could end up in another cycle of lockdowns.
Today, San Diego, Carlsbad, and a couple of nearby towns closed their beaches and parks due to weekend overcrowding. Coronado might follow soon. We went for a bike ride and saw cops everywhere, including one chatting with locals just two feet apart. These are our leaders, everyone.