Advice from the future
Here’s what the Covid-19 quarantine in Italy has taught me.
When Dystopia comes knocking
A month ago, I sat in a coffee shop in North Italy chatting with my regular barista. I said “It’s only the flu. Why are we freaking out?”
I’m ashamed of myself now, but we didn’t have a lot of clear information.
Chinese news doesn’t permeate our world much, if at all. When it does, we disbelieve it. They were in quarantine long before I ever realized what was going on.
A week later, we were in quarantine — when most of the US still had no idea what was going on. Some of you still don’t. Many still refuse to accept that people as young as twenty-seven have died. Many would rather not hear these things.
But if you’re like me and like to be prepared, here’s a glimpse into what the future holds.
It won’t be over in two weeks.
This is the hardest truth to take, but it’s one you have to swallow. When we went into quarantine, we also thought it would be two weeks — as though the disease would magically vanish on day 15.
- Week one: nobody took it seriously, so they had to enforce it legally.
- Week two: it took fines and police hounding to get people inside — by then, many were infected.
- Week three: the entire country was on lockdown.
- Week four: we started to see a slight reduction in the number of infected. That means we could start to predict when it might be over.
It’s now been over a month. We’ve gone from nearly five thousand new admissions per day to three thousand eight hundred.
This means that, if all goes well, we will be allowed to leave quarantine — according to all predictions — in another three weeks. That’s the best-case scenario.
By all estimates, that’s what you can expect to face too; if everyone actually obeys the “shelter in place” orders.
It’s not a vacation.
Many people going into quarantine now thinking they’ll have time to read or write or enjoy family time — maybe a select few of you will.
Most of us? We’re too scared and depressed to be of use to anybody. We get grumpy, we get tired. We can’t concentrate. We won’t be the best versions of ourselves.
Solitude and isolation are two different things. You have no obligation to enjoy what’s happening right now.
I’m terrified all the time, and I avoid telling my friends that because I don’t want to terrify them, too. I have a friend in Norway who tells me she’s cried herself to sleep every single day for the past three weeks. Others seem to work and go about their business as usual — the whole range of reactions is possible.
It gets easier after a few weeks — at least, it did for me. You find a rhythm and start to really cope, rather than hide away and hope it all blows over. The sooner you accept that you’re in it for the long run, the better. You’ll cope faster.
Some things are forever.
There will, very likely, never be a time when we can return to not washing our hands the moment we get home. Unless they find a real vaccine for this, which they might not, we may have to get used to wearing masks around others.
Businesses will have to look at real, permanent solutions for working from home. We will have to find healthy ways to cope with avoiding social gatherings, especially during the colder months. Some things are going to become a part of our culture forever.
Good things will, too. Things like cleanliness and working out at home, treasuring time with our loved ones, reaching out to friends across borders through social media, coming together as a community — these won’t leave us either. At least, I hope they never do.
It’ll get better.
I’m an introvert and should do fine by myself. Normally, I spend a week without meeting other people in comfort and ease. Doing it because of a deadly disease is not the same. I’ve had moments of absolute dejection and misery. I’ve had crying fits and panic attacks.
And then it got better.
Humans are a sturdy and adaptable bunch. We can normalize a whole lot of things far worse than this one, and we can carry on living. It takes a little time and a little acceptance, but we’ll get there.
Many of you have lost jobs, and many of you will lose loved ones. I’m so terribly sorry for every single human that had to die because we weren’t quick enough to react — 12.428 lives in Italy as of right now.
But we are fighting back, and we are winning.
We’re pulling away from that ledge, and you will too. Some things may never be the same, but we’ll get our right to travel again. We’ll learn and adapt and merge extensive hygiene protocols into our lives; we’ll get our social gatherings back. It will happen.
Meanwhile, out of respect for the people who lost their lives, out of gratitude to our heroic doctors and medical staff, and out of kindness for people like me who want nothing more than to finally be allowed to hug someone again — stay inside.
Stay safe.
