Well, here were are 14.5 months after the shunt down, and I think I can finally write that the pandemic is beginning to end.
A few weeks ago, they announced in California that we could be outside without masks if we were fully vaccinated. Finally after a year with running outside with a mask, I left it at home. I realize that most places were not as strict with mask wearing, especially outside, but around here people would scream at you for running without a mask. It was a little out of control, honestly. But, also I suppose, why we never had a huge surge here.
Friday was the first day that I went for a run and didn't see anyone else wearing a mask either. And we have been to a few social events: a Memorial Day barbecue, a baby shower.
Ethan will get his second shot next week. By June 15, when he will be 2 weeks out from his second dose, our governor states we can all go to pre-pandemic practices. Not that things will change overnight here.
This time period has been tough. Especially for front-line workers like Jason and myself. While others have pivoted to staying at home, we have continued to commute. We have stressful jobs at baseline, compounded by the stress of catching Covid at work, compounded again by the additional significant stress at home sorting out childcare, school situations, and our children's emotional isolation.
We have coped, relying on the strength of our relationship, our shared values and common goals. Not all have been so lucky.
Three physicians that I have trained with have committed suicide during this pandemic. One from medical school. One from residency. And one from fellowship.
Two were married with kids.
Three lives lost in 14 and a half months, the most recent one happening just two weeks ago.
Years of training, experience and knowledge. Gone.
I don't know if I will ever be able to reconcile this all in my head.
What a shame.









