Items

• 2021-01-31

  Volunteering Breaks Hearts

  I volunteered at one of the County’s vaccination clinics last week. The health department ramped up their vaccination schedule, and we saw nearly 50% more traffic than the week prior, which was already 30% above its projections. Many of the folks over 65 (group 1C) here in Tucson are going up to Phoenix to be vaccinated as local health officials are still working their way through the 75+ crowd (Group 1B1). It has been both heartbreaking and frustrating that about a third of the vehicle occupants beg and plead for some special exemption for a family member who’s with them. Despite not yet being entitled to be vaccinated themselves, they hope someone lets them cut in line. Everyone has a special need and a special, unique circumstance that should enable them to jump ahead of their neighbors, and the selfishness of it agitates one of my few prejudices, especially when they don't take the initial 'no' for an answer. The public is so terrified, and many seem to fear they won’t manage to avoid illness in the coming weeks despite having done so for ten months now. It hurts my heart to see their suffering, to hear their fear and anxiety, to have to turn them away, and to know they’re asking for special treatment that might deny the delivery of vaccines to the most vulnerable populations. The hardest part has been, though, the number of elderly folks entitled to be vaccinated who can't navigate the online portal to get an appointment. The current vaccines are stored so cold that we can't deviate from the allotted appointments, but every day brings in elderly people who can't function in a digital world. The county can't spare personnel to offer immediate and realistic registration help to them, and many have complained of waiting on the phone for hours, only to have the county phone line hang up on them. The situation makes me want to find their grandchildren and ask why they don't give a damn about helping their grandparents. I also found out last night our organization's portion of the operation is winding down, and I do not expect to again be able to help facilitate vaccinations in my community. With time and eventual immunization, I hope to find other ways to serve my neighbors.
• 
  2021-01-25

  "The Pandemic Is Finally Softening. Will That Last?" - The Atlantic

  This Atlantic Monthly article, written by Robinson Meyer, details the race to vaccinate millions of Americans in the face of loosening mitigation efforts, new COVID-19 strains, and supply bottlenecks. According to Meyer, with the advent of several COVID-19 vaccines, some states and municipal governments across the country have loosened their quarantine restrictions in the belief that vaccination and lower death rates make lockdowns unnecessary. This is not true, and this loosening of restrictions may precipitate further surges in COVID-19 cases, especially as new strains from the UK and South Africa become endemic. Fewer vaccine doses will be delivered by Pfizer, due to an agreement signed by the Trump administration.
• 
  2020-06-29

  Canada Day 2020 — Let’s get active together!

  Government of Canada encourages the public to get active this Canada day. With the help of Canadian athletes to take up the fitness challenge and use the hashtag #ActiveTogether to share their experience.
• 
  2020-12-25

  The Blessings and Curse of My First COVID Christmas

  The Blessings and the Curse of My First COVID Christmas By James Rayroux For the sake of relative brevity, the story of my first COVID Christmas actually began in October even though its events first took root in March, just as is the case for most all of us, I imagine. I’m what you might call a professional investigator. Considering the years of training and practice that led to my thousands of successful interviews and interrogations, I’ve more than earned the burden and blustering lack of prestige the title actually carries. In the fall of 2020, I worked as a government contractor, and I specialized in COVID medical investigations. Not the laboratory kind, although that’s well within the reach of my background. I worked on the patient side of things. The County wants us to keep referring to them as ‘cases,’ not ‘patients.’ Apparently, ‘patient’ infers a medical relationship that allows and demands we provide medical advice and counsel. I wonder what they think on the other end of the phone from us...are they a patient in need of accurate information, compassion, and sympathy; a human with needs, fears, questions, concerns, and families; or are they a mere ‘case’ with signs and symptoms of ailments to be questioned, interrogated, and subconsciously blamed for having acquired their illness in the first place? If they’d only done all the things our government minders had asked, mandated, and demanded, we might not have had need of this conversation at all... I digress. Although I’m not a frontline healthcare worker reporting to shift at a hospital, clinic, or testing site, COVID has consumed most of my waking hours since July. I hear it on the news, I get paid at least forty hours each week to talk, laugh, and cry about it, and then I discuss it with my family at night while we hear it on the news again. Now you’ve got most of the background. I hadn’t seen my grandparents since February 1, 2020. Most of our extended family had planned an elaborate beach vacation for late April that you already know was cancelled before reading these words. We all kept our respective distance from each other, didn’t go out of town or out of state to visit each other. Talked on the phone, an occasional FaceTime, but that’s it. My grandparents respectively turned 85 (x2), 89, and 92 this year. Two of them went on hospice in the spring, one remains on daily hospice care now. Given their frail condition and the unknown and distant end to the COVID pandemic, we collectively decided I needed to make a trip to see them, so we put a responsible plan in place based on then-current guidance from public health officials. I quarantined at home before I left to ensure I didn’t bring anything with me. I stopped once for gas, used the stupid mask and medical gloves at the fuel pump, discarded them immediately, and sanitized my hands upon returning to the truck. I hate hand sanitizer now, far more than it deserves to be hated by anyone. I scheduled my time away to allow me to see the more fragile set of grandparents first. I stayed with my family, saw no one outside the normal circle that envelops those grandparents, and ensured I didn’t introduce any foreign bodies to their existence beyond myself. The day I packed up to depart to see my second set of grandparents, I got a call that one of our family might have been exposed at work. He felt fine, but his partner couldn’t smell or taste. Monkey Wrench Number 1. I extended my trip two weeks to allow for the then-recommended exposure quarantine to run its course. The possible became real when two of my family fell ill. The rest of us woke each morning and waited for our signs and symptoms to begin. My wife and I had planned on me being back home on Thanksgiving, but I would now, at best, be over to stay with Grandparents #2 on Thanksgiving Day. I should explain here that although my wife also works from home and has tremendous flexibility in her schedule, we moved her parents in with us about two years ago. COVID has further complicated that relationship and our respective reality due to their advancing age, physical decline, and pre-existing conditions. Like too many folks, we live with the constant anxiety that their contraction of COVID will lead to their imminent and virtually guaranteed death, despite ALL the data and our personal experiences that clearly demonstrate otherwise. She feared coming with me because it would mean leaving her folks behind to care for themselves if they got sick while we were away, and also meant she would have to quarantine from them for two weeks after our return. Thus, no Thanksgiving with her folks. Now you’re caught back up. So, I made it to Thanksgiving Day with no symptoms, no illness, and a general sense that all was as well as it could be. I had again packed the truck and prepared to go on to the next house, and my cell rang at about 8am. My cousin told me Grandad wasn’t feeling well. High temp of about 103-104. General malaise. Nausea. Fuck. Monkey Wrench Number Two. We agreed they would call his general practitioner and cardiologist to seek their guidance, and I was on the way. I hadn’t yet had COVID to that point, but if my grandparents had contracted it, they would not be able to care for themselves or each other. I didn’t have fear of enduring the illness myself, I had only ever worried about bringing it to them. That particular concern no longer held water. I visited three stores around town to gather all the generally recommended OTC meds, supplements, and vitamin packs that I thought three people might consume in two weeks, along with a new thermometer, and I landed at the home of Grandparents #2 just before noon. Grandad felt fine. Normal temp. No explanation of what the morning’s signs and symptoms had been. Hell, he’s 85 and mentally sharp as a tack, so you have to expect some physical cost for those benefits. With the crisis seemingly averted, we cautiously went about limiting their access to the outside world for a few days. Aside from Grandad’s normal physical limitations, all seemed normal, and that reality demanded its own action plan. Having not seem them in action for ten months, his feebleness struck me right in the heart. He’s about my size and my Grandmother’s half of him, and I had trouble helping him at times. She couldn’t do this on her. Not only that, but she shouldn’t have been caring for him on her own for probably most of that year. She needed help, and he needed to recover some of his dignity. After speaking with the nurses in our family and a couple trusted confidants, I called Hospice and set an appointment for them to evaluate him and his needs. A brief aside for the uninitiated: while Hospice is designed and statutorily enabled to assist folks in the last potential six months of their life, patients may be on Hospice care for much longer than that, or for as many times as needed. Those Hospice Nurses deserve all the accolades we may provide, and they absolutely deserve the Capitalized Titles. God Bless Them. Despite my familiarity with Hospice, hearing my Grandad’s new nurse confirm his conditions likely indicated he had fallen within the Last Six Months struck me. Hard. I only ever saw him cry once, when we surprised them for their joint 80th birthday party. They unexpectedly walked into a room filled with friends and family ready to celebrate with them, and he hid behind my petite grandmother for a moment to stifle his tears. Being my father’s son, I have no such trouble crying. I just didn’t want him to see me cry for him. We all spoke after the Nurse left, and we got some other things set in motion to help care for their daily needs. Having now been at their home for a week, which had been the original plan back from October, I talked to my grandparents about leaving. Are they going to be okay if I go? Do they need me to stay? Do my cousins want me to hang around for another week to help supplement the transition into professional in-home care? We all agreed I was welcome, but technically unneeded. I should go home and see my wife, whom they adore. I had already been gone from home for a month. That was Wednesday, December 2, 2020. I drove home on Thursday, December 3, and this is as good a time as any to say I didn’t feel 100%. For clarity, I’m telling you a few things out of chronological order here. My symptoms began on Saturday, November 28, with a weird diarrhea that lasted for a few hours in the morning. I don’t usually have GI troubles, but with no other signs of illness, I thought it was food, or the stress of waiting for my Grandparents to show COVID signs and symptoms. For the next week, I had very mild cold/allergy symptoms. Some sinus congestion, a little tightness in my chest. All consistent with my normal experiences this time of year, and all so mild to not have been worth mentioning. However, it’s critical at this juncture in the timeline. Grandad went downhill two days after I left. My mom and sister had arrived the day before to visit for the weekend, and the updates grew grim. Hospice came in on Saturday, December 5, and made substantial changes and improvements to the house. My wife and I began discussing when we would return, how long we would stay, how we would check off all the logistical needs boxes for us and our little household. The COVID test I had scheduled for Monday morning fell through; the testing site had insufficient staff to administer it, and they had cancelled all the appointments for the day... “You should have gotten an email...” My mom called a few hours later, on Monday evening, with ominous news: come now, he won’t be here much longer. My aunt departed from her house and agreed to pick me up in two hours so neither of us fell asleep driving. In the meantime, for my own conscience, I went to a local ED, explained my symptoms and imminent travel to say goodbye to my Grandad, they administered and processed a COVID polymerase-chain-reaction test. Positive. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Monkey Wrench Number Three. At that moment, I was on Day 9 of the symptoms, at worst Day 7. Recommendations at the time demanded isolation for ten days once signs and symptoms appeared, and wait until your condition is generally improving and you’ve gone at least twenty-four hours without a fever. Never had a fever, and my ailment never grew to be more than a nuisance. However, I had to wait at least a day, and three days would be better. I couldn’t confidently say my COVID started on the 28th or the 30th. Safer for all around me to say the 30th. Another phone call changed my life at 8am the next morning. Grandad passed on at home, surrounded by family, just after 7:30. Mortality had claimed one of my two lifelong mentors, and the most perpetually positive male role model I had in this life. The following days of isolation and despair are the darkest and loneliest I’ve ever known. I waited until Friday, December 11, to travel back and commemorate my Grandad’s life. By the time I arrived, he had moved from his customary chair at the head of the kitchen table to an urn on top of it. I learned the crematorium doesn’t remove the clothes before lighting the fire. Who knew? Over the following few days, our family celebrated his life, and thanked God for his role in ours. My aunt, uncle, and I hung around to help my Grandmother tie up his affairs and transition to an empty nest. Aside from the odd nightshift, she hasn’t slept alone since he returned from his Army base in Germany in 1961. I had planned to stay two weeks and go home on Christmas Eve. At 5am on Saturday, December 19th, my uncle woke me up: he started feeling flu symptoms overnight, and he had to leave before he got anyone else sick. He has a substantially suppressed immune system, and his rheumatologist had convinced him that COVID would kill him, FYI. Some things are worth the risk until they aren’t. Fuck. Monkey Wrench Number Four. This seems like a good time to note the prevailing guidance around COVID transmission as of December 2020. Public health officials had proclaimed the virus could become contagious two days before the patient (not the case, the patient) exhibited any signs or symptoms of illness. Also, I might as well fill you in that my uncle had infrequent, wet coughs for several days at that point, but nothing else that would have indicated a significant illness. Thus, at 5am that morning, we had to consider my uncle might have become contagious to my Grandmother on the 14th. Over coffee that morning, my Grandmother and I looked closely at the calendar, considered then-present guidance, and decided she needed to stay in quarantine until December 29th. The guidance at that moment (which had changed since the beginning of this tale) was to quarantine for seven days with a negative PCR test administered on Day 5-7, or to quarantine for ten days with no test and no signs or symptoms. At that time, test results took more than five days to get back, so the early release wasn’t an option. I committed to staying until New Year’s Eve, assuming she never fell ill. With that change in plans and circumstances, my wife and I prepared for separate and relatively isolated Christmases apart. The family had decided back in October not to exchange gifts that year because of all the other stress that had befallen each of our households, so, the week of Christmas, my Grandmother’s tree had not a single gift under it. My Grandad passed before buying her anything, so my wife and I found a few items we hoped might make her feel warm and hugged when we couldn’t be there with her. My wife has an incredible fondness for “woobie” sweaters, and we found one in my Grandmother’s size and color. It’s what she’s wearing in the attached photograph. She had lived in such a mental fog up to that point that she hadn’t even noticed the packages I’d wrapped and put under the tree. I didn’t hide them, but, in all fairness, I didn’t set them front-and-center, either. I’m forever grateful she had a few things to open that morning, and that she might find some small comfort in them. One of my cousins had already had COVID run through their house in the past few months, and I moved my Grandmother’s quarantine across town for breakfast. That’s where the picture was taken, with beloved family and a brightness none of us had otherwise felt for a few weeks at that point. That morning became the first sense I had of something normal returning to our lives. I made my wife’s infamous cream cheese-mushroom quiche, and my cousins added traditional American breakfast items: sausage, bacon, toast, potatoes, scrambled eggs, fruit juices. I later added rum to a tropical juice blend. Delicious. You might notice the stocking she’s holding in the photograph, and stockings are a big deal in my household. My wife and I love them, and they’re a big part of our personal Christmas traditions. On Christmas Eve, I found out my Grandmother didn’t have a stocking made up for her, but I managed to find everything I needed without her finding out about it. My favorite part of that was the Sock Monkey, which I imagined she would just think was cute, but she laughed when she pulled it from the stocking. My Grandmother explained her mother used to make stuffed monkeys for my Grandmother and her siblings from my great-grandfather’s worn-out tube socks. Having grown up on a rural farm in the Great Depression, every material item had to have at least two lives, and old socks didn’t get a pass. The New Sock Monkey became her newest Christmas ornament, however, and I already look forward to helping her hang it later this year. I had bought and prepared a bone-in rib roast for us that night, and another cousin (fellow COVID survivor) came over with her two kids to enjoy Christmas dinner with us at my Grandmother’s home. No one had yet sat in my Grandad’s customary chair at the head of the table. Someone eventually will, and they may have already, but I’ve yet to see or hear about it. My grandmother said she still feels him in their house, but I haven’t, not since I said goodbye, fully expecting to see him again in a few months, as planned. I saw apprehension on his face as I left, and I ignored it. I chose to believe what I hoped. The 29th came with some fanfare and a drive out of town just to celebrate her release from quarantine. We revisited a recent conversation, and she assured me she was ready-enough for me to go home; she didn’t want me to leave or need me to leave, but she didn’t truly need me to stay, either. In her kindness, she asked me to go home and take care of my wife. On the 31st, my cousins helped take down her Christmas tree and decorations, and we all said a tearful goodbye. When I left their home the first time, just four weeks earlier, my Grandad and I had promised to see each other soon; my Grandmother assured me on New Year’s Eve that she’d hold up her end of the bargain. In about two weeks, I’ll get to hug her neck again, and I’m ever so ready to do so. For all the misery, suffering, and omnipresent anxiety COVID has brought to our society, my infection was an incredible blessing, all things considered. I have no idea from whom I contracted the illness, as no one around me was ill during the timeframe that I could have contracted it. More importantly, NO ONE around me fell ill after I showed signs and symptoms. Not a single person in my life contracted my COVID infection, not my 85-year-old grandparents, not my aging and infirm in-laws, not my wife. No. One. My experience proved to be excessively mild, given the possibilities, and the eventual immunity allowed me to ensure my Grandmother didn’t have to quarantine alone so soon after her husband’s death AND that none of my other family had to risk infection to stay with her. She wasn’t alone on Christmas. I will remain forever grateful for the blessings that managed to weave themselves throughout this experience. Their presence didn’t transpire through mere coincidence, especially not for so many to have appeared in one life and in so short a timeframe. That’s not how probability, chance, or statistical evolution work. With my recent positive COVID antibody test, this also means I can begin volunteering outside my home again, and that I can donate convalescent plasma about once a week. It’s a small thing, but I’m sure it will make all the difference for someone who needs just a little help.
• 
  2020-11-12

  Quebec's $1.5 billion Plan to Restart Economy

  Quebec has been one of the hardest hit provinces during the pandemic. This plan hopes to revitalize the economy by investing in workers, "buy local" initiatives, and research. This will also come with a deficit for next couple of years.
• 
  2020-11-04

  A Little Tired

  This meme is everything that COVID/riots/election America is right now. Nobody’s talking about it, but suicides are way up. Divorce is way up. Casual alcoholism is widespread. People are doing so many drugs it’s insane. People are visibly deteriorating, not taking care of themselves and it’s showing. Men I know who used to be clean-cut and disciplined aren’t getting haircuts, aren’t shaving, and barely exercise anymore. Depression is the real “new normal.” Everyone is affected. Oppressive government regulations, blatant abuse and murder of American citizens by the police, arbitrary emergency orders, and openly fraudulent election processes have broken the spirits of almost everyone. No one even thinks change is possible anymore. People want this nation to collapse and are now openly saying it. All hope has been lost in the hearts of the average American. It’s funny because it’s TOO relatable for EVERYONE.
• 
  2020-11-02

  Masks now required in all City of Victoria buildings

  Masks are now required in all buildings owned by the City of Victoria. Compared to the United States, Canada has not required masks in many municipalities.
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  2020-04-02

  Collier County Announcement: "Safer At Home" Order

  Collier County Manager Leo Ochs, Jr. sent out an email discussing the “Safer At Home” order issued by Governor DeSantis. He explains government work is considered essential, and the county has taken measures to protect employees from exposure, such as moving as many public services as possible online. This order includes the closure of the Collier County Museum.
• 
  2020-09-15T16:35

  COVID-19’s Impact on Collier County Museum Projects

  This is an article written by the Naples Daily News discussing the budget issues that Collier County’s museum system is facing due to COVID-19. Since the museum system is primarily funded through the tourism tax, the funding has plummeted about $300,000 due to the pandemic. Steve Carnell, the director of the public services department, said that the museums have taken the hardest hit - the operating budget had to be reduced by a whole quarter ($464,000). Because of this, a lot of the planned growth of the museum has been put on hold until funding can be secured. The article includes even more information on how operations in the five museums have transformed due to COVID-19.
• 
  2020-10-19

  Gucci belt

  Have you ever seen a person roll up in an expensive car to later find out they rotate between friends couches at night? Or a girl with a channel purse riding the bus? I thought of both when I came across this meme on Instagram. Since the Second World War, the US has posed as the leader of the world. We’ve boasted economical sucess, technological advances and number one in the sciences. Then COVID hit and our true colors came out. I wouldn’t go as far as this meme and claim that the US is a third world country because we’re clearly not. But we’re also not number one like we pretend to be. We were on top of the world is everyday back in 1945, but that spot is not ours anymore. The current administration has proven inapt in ever sense of the word. And now the world sees us as the posers we’ve become. I’m hoping for better days after these elections.
• 
  2020-10-02

  Justin Trudeau and other Canadian politicians send get-well messages to POTUS

  Justin Trudeau and other prominent Canadian politicians, such as Conservative leader Erin O'Toole. have sent get-well messages to Donald and Melania Trump due to their recent positive COVID-19 test.
• 
  2020-10-02

  Travel bubble between New Zealand Australia soon to open

  Because both New Zealand and Australia have both handled the pandemic well, with no current outbreaks, they are opening up the Trans-Tasman Travel area up again. They are hoping this can help boost the economies of both countries hard-hit tourism industries.
• 
  4/1/2020

  Daniel Cogley Oral History 2020/04/01

  University of Cincinnati Course Number: HIST 5110/6010 Course Title: Public History Practicum Professor: Dr. Rebecca Wingo
• 
  2020-07-08

  "We understand some of you are upset, but please direct your feedback towards us"

  A tweet from Ottawa Public Health addressing those who have been taking out their anger regarding the city's recent move to mandate masks in public spaces towards business employees attempting to enforce the rule.
• 
  2020-07-06

  Letter of Instruction to Business Owners and Operators Concerning Mask Order

  The attached is a letter from Ottawa Public Health and the Chief Medical Officer of Health for the City of Ottawa, Dr. Vera Etches, outlining how the newly implemented public health order which requires the wearing of masks by all individuals in indoor public spaces and what there responsibilities are in relation to that order.
• 
  2020-07-06

  Mask or Face Covering Required

  poster accompanying a tweet by Ottawa Public Health formally announcing that the Chief Medical Officer of Health, Dr. Vera Etches, has declared masks or other face coverings mandatory in public indoor spaces. The city of Ottawa is expected to vote on a bylaw to the same effect on July 15. The accompanying tweet reads: "As you’ve likely heard, Ottawa Public Health is mandating the use of masks in many indoor public spaces, effective at 12:01am July 7, 2020. Please read the letter of instruction from @VeraEtches to business owners and operators : http://ow.ly/sAM830qWBrj" The
• 
  2020-05-31

  Priorities

  Chelsea talks about the values and priorities of our government.
• 
  2020

  Political Cartoon, Man Protesting Stay-at-Home Orders Before/After

  This cartoon shows a man fighting against government mandated stay-at-home orders. It then shows him in the hospital with a nurse caring for him.
• 
  2020-06-18

  States Quietly Criminalizing Oil Protests During Covid

  It is infuriating to see so many instances of government taking advantage of Covid-19 in order to enact laws that will backtrack any progress made against fossil fuel industry. But honestly, they have done this before and it wont be the last time.
• 
  2020-06-26

  Government vital communication to deaf/Deaf/HoH community lacking

  One of the frustrations amung the deaf/Deaf/HoH communities is the governments communication during a crisis. Several times there is no sign interpreter available on screen while politicians are speaking. Sometimes there is no live CC available. A few times, fake interpreters are speaking gibberish during a live governmental press conference, putting the lives of many in the Deaf community at risk. There are millions of deaf/Deaf/HoH in the U.S. and I feel like the pandemic had swept our needs aside.
• 
  2020-06-18

  Mask On or Mask Off?

  This tweet from the Omaha World Herald highlights a very real concern that is on everyone's mind in the middle of the pandemic: the economy. In Nebraska, there appears to be a fear that if mask mandates are made a state order, the stimulus money for coronavirus relief could be withheld. It is a part of the larger struggle between state leaders and the federal government over health and safety guidelines. This item was added usingTAGS v6.9.1, searching under keyword #Nebraska. Within that search I have chosen to add this item because it speaks on the ongoing debate over the safety and necessity of masks.
• 
  2020-05-31

  Death people everyday

  It has been three months since the COV-19 appears and death per day and infect people are still increasing as usual more than 20K every day.