Medically unspectacular
By Terri Amador
By Terri Amador
READING my morning briefing delivered by The New York Times, I was impressed by this one single phrase in an article about COVID: medically unspectacular. Instantly, I thought, yup, that’s one description right up my alley.
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I mean, in this time of coronaviruses when the person next to you could very well be asymptomatic but infectious, “medically unspectacular” is as attractive as it gets.
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Sure, you bore the medical books, but at least you survive to panic over another possible pandemic in the future.
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Meeting a date for the first time? Introduce yourself by saying, for example, “Hi, my name is Karen. I am medically unspectacular.” Then wait for the sparks to fly.
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Given the context, I would say being CoViD-free is a major MAJOR turn on.
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So I was at the supermarket last night shopping for things I didn’t plan to buy.
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And I bought a lot. Smh.
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These days, many of my day-to-day decisions are made with coronaviruses in mind. I shop at less-frequented stores to avoid crowds. Crowds and droplets. Crowds, droplets, and anyone who offers a free whiff of whatever perfume knockoff they’re selling. (The latter can be especially virulent.)
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Thank goodness I have no disposable income to speak of, so avoiding mall sales and the hordes of people easily swayed by big red signs is as easy as maintaining a zero account balance.
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Absolutely no sweat.
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I’m glad to note that Ilonggos have not succumbed to panic-buying. I mean, yes, there was a rush to buy surgical and N95 masks from medical supply shops the first two weeks of CoViD, resulting in the rationing of said items, but 70% rubbing alcohol and anti-bacterial soaps continue to be in abundant supply and supermarket shelves are piled high and deep with food essentials, including canned goods.
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So, really, it’s business as usual with just a hint of apocalyptic fears showing.
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The fact that I bike to work (yey!) and everywhere else affords me a good, safe distance from people, which reduces my risk of being infected with this virus formally known as NCoV.
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But experts say Coronavirus 2019 can be spread as far as six feet through droplets, so I guess I have to always find a way to keep moving when the rest of traffic is at a standstill.
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Oh, wait. I already do that!
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Because I am an ambivert—a person who can be social for a limited period—being alone most of the time is a party. Go figure.
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But, yes, I got that stay-away-from-crowds bit covered by biking instead of taking public transport. I always bring a spray bottle of rubbing alcohol with me and wash my hands as often as possible. I try to keep fit by exercising. I take vitamins daily.
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I think there’s really not much we can do when we are under siege by a faceless foe. But good, old cleanliness and sanitation coupled with a good night’s sleep may yet save us—the human race—from annihilation.
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So, fellow medically unspectacular people, relax; nothing is under control.
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