Just another day in this so called life of mine: does it look like I’m worried? (Hint: I am)

This past Friday I got a call from my doctor’s office asking how I was doing, could we postpone my appointment on March 30 with Dr. Marvi ‘indefinitely’, did I need refills on my prescriptions, and if I was experiencing any flu-like symptoms to be sure and let them know right away. 

I thanked her for the call and asked if they were reaching out to all their patients because of this coronavirus.  She said no, just the high-risk ones.  Excuse me?  What makes me a high-risk?  “Your age Mr. Morris, and your medical condition.  Are you still taking meds daily for your high blood pressure?”   Um… yes.

A little later after that call, I got on my computer, saw an email from my sister that they were visiting different stores in search of various supplies and encountering a lot of empty shelves, and a notice from my apartment building’s management that for the time being, please restrict visits from non-residents to emergency personnel only.  For real?  The younger side of me wanted to roll his eyes and shake his head at all the drama, the older side gulped and wondered if he should take this stuff more seriously.

I decided I’d better go to the store before the weekend got here, put on my shoes & coat, headed downstairs.  Our 80-something resident Jack (who spends most of his waking hours holding court in our building’s lobby) was asking everyone if they’re loaded up on milk, you can freeze that you know, ”because once the milk runs out, ya won’t have anything to put on your cereal but your tears!”   Dude, chill!  I worry more he’s going to give himself a stroke then me running out of milk…  I think I’ll add a quart to my shopping list.

When I got to the market, things seemed normal enough—I forgot to walk down the paper goods aisle to see if they’re sold out of anything.  (I’ve got 4 rolls of paper towels & 10 rolls of toilet paper at home so I think I’m good.)  I head to the checkouts, a young woman is at the register with a much older woman bagging for her.  As I watch her swish my items over the barcode scanner, I notice 2 items are displaying the wrong price on the scanner.  I say “Thoth two hummetheth—they’re on thale.”  The girl stopped and looked at me.  I say “The hummetheth… on thale.  THALE.”  

I reached into my mouth and pulled out my stablilization splint.  “The 2 containers of hummus are supposed to be on sale.”  I pop my oral splint (for my TMJD) back in.  That older woman who’s bagging my stuff walks off with my hummus, comes back & tells the girl how to null the items and enter the sale price manually.

After I got outside and remembered I needed some cash, I head back inside just in time to hear that older woman who bagged my groceries telling a woman about the man who just left, he had to remove his dentures because he couldn’t talk with them in.  Ugh!  I don’t want her to see me, I’ll get my dough another time.

When I got home and saw Jack still sitting in the lobby, I pulled out my quart of milk.  “It’h going right in the freezer.”   He didn’t say a word, just grinned & nodded at me.

After I got on the elevator, pressed 4 and got to my floor, Opal (the woman who lives down the hall from me) was waiting to get on.  She saw my bags and asked how things looked outside.  I said pretty normal.  She told me there were 20 infected people in Pennsylvania, it was only a matter of time.  I felt like we were talking about the end of the world and us becoming zombies. 

I wonder just how bad things are going to get?