#pints writes

You know how many kids died from polio? About 3% on average. Adults faired worse, but even then about 70% of polio cases were asymptomatic. The remaining 30% ranged from mild to death, with mild taking up the lion's share.

At our peak year, the US had about 52,000 reported cases of polio (which means that the actual number of people who had it but were asymptomatic was almost about 200,000).

Out of those 50k+ symptom diagnoses cases, only 3k died. The other 47k recovered.

Yet even those numbers were sufficient to create the March of Dimes and a public pressure to find cures, vaccinations, etc.

Within 15 years, doctors started to notice that adult survivors were developing similar symptoms and these patients were the first to show what are now called "post-polio syndrome" patients.

But even before that, the 20-25% of cases with symptoms but who recovered often had mobility issues, bent legs or arms, 'frozen' joints, etc because of how poliomyelitis attacks nerves.

With Covid, if you say "well 99% of ppl survive" a) you're wrong, it's more like 93-95% and b) you're saying '99% are fine' ie survival means complete recovery.

Nope.

It's like saying that 99% of people survive amputation of multiple fingers.

Well sure, they survive, if it's a binary alive/dead count.

They didn't die from it, so they survived.

But how does having 6 fingers change your life from having 10? How does losing a thumb change your ability to do things in every day life? How much extra wear or stress will your remaining fingers, hand, etc take on due to you having to switch to a non-dominant hand as primary use or accelerate repetitive motion conditions like carpal tunnel?

How long would it take you to adapt to having fewer fingers, adapt to a prostethic, gain confidence in the reuse of your hand(s)? How much more would you have to pay every year for medical stuff and how much on non-covered items that you'd have to replace or just start buying for convenience?

Scissors? Can openers? Button hooks?

What if your job was typing, like a court stenographer? Or a music teacher? Would you be able to adapt?

Alive doesn't mean unchanged or unharmed.

Surviving doesn't mean returning to the status quo.

People aren't just dying from Covid or surviving it, everyone. A large portion of people who have recovered from covid have serious damage to their heart, lungs, brain and other organs that may never fully heal, complications that change their lives forever—just like lots of people who survived Smallpox or polio or rubella were never back to the way they were prior to catching those diseases. Going through it doesn't end with you being 100% fine if you survive.

It's more like :

Out of 100, 95 ppl survive initial infection

- of those 95, X (let's say 35) end up with a long-term issue

- of those 35, 25 have more than one longterm issue (lasting over 6 months, requiring medical checks or adaptation of work/life) that may be treatable or improve over time without much intervention

- the remaining 10 have conditions that are chronic and less likely to improve over time and in turn could make the patient more likely to die from other illness, decrease their overall quality of life and decrease their lifespan overall.

So suddenly it isn't a 5/95 issue, it's a 35/95 issue and a 10/35 issue, so your odds of surviving haven't changed but your odds of surviving unharmed and exactly as you were before are greatly decreased.

Now it's more of a 1/3, where you swap from 5% dying to 30~% having long-lasting illness, symptoms or developing conditions that continue for anywhere from 6mo post-infection to end of life 20, 30 or 40 years from now.

If I cut off, say, your right thumb and left forefinger, you're 99% likely to live afterward, but you're certainly going to have a ton of fucking issues with doorknobs, buttons, typing, getting dressed, etc which will require months or years of you adapting along with costing you a shit ton of money in costs for medical, assitive devices, potential career change and all the time involved in learning how to use your hands/body. But hey you're part of the 99% who survived so why are you mad?

So to review -

5 die.

35 survive with potential life-long issues.

60 survive with little to no symptoms or complications (but also no long-term immunity so could be reinfected and/or still subject to secondary development of issues related to their exposure in the future)

Sounds more like a 40/60 split than a 5/95 now, right?

That's because IT ALWAYS IS

3k deaths out of 50k from polio doesn't give you the # who were permanently paralyzed in a limb, two limbs, left unable to walk, etc. or that up to 50% of polio survivors developed a condition from their original exposure decades later (and that no one even knew existed at the peak of polio infections in the US) even if they survived without permanent paralysis of any part of their body.

We're on track to see 400k+ deaths by the end of the year in the US alone and that doesn't include the people with chronic or permanent issues who survived.

It isn't binary.

It isn't something to dismiss because of the percentage of fatality is 'low'.

It also isn't only your life that is being endangered.

Don't travel for the holidays.

Don't gather with people outside your household.

Don't go all over shopping for gifts.

Don't hold your tongue around people you care about: tell them to stay home, tell them to not gather, tell them to be patient and think of others.

It isn't just covid. It's all the cancer patients having to delay treatments that compromise their immune systems. It's all the patients needing organ transplants who cannot get surgeries. It's the backups of CT/MRI for emergency patients bc of protocol to avoid contagion. It's about all the people who need care only hospitals can provide being rescheduled or shuffled down the weeks. It's about full hospitals, people forced to find ways to get basic needs met in areas that don't have many options for at-risk people, and a domino effect of selfish behavior directly leading to the injury and death of thousands who could be alive today if people just did the bare fucking minimum and masked up, distanced and stayed home.

Years ago I had pneumonia, which slid into double pneumonia and eventually led to me getting IV drugs through a port daily. After my rounds of IV meds were complete and I was deemed free of pneumonia, I was put on what turned into a 6 week isolation where I could not leave my apartment or expose myself to people because of my status as weak and immunocompromised. I didn't have but a few TV channels and the internet was still newish so there wasn't a lot going on there. Daytime TV was THE WORST being mostly soaps and Maury 'Not the Father!' type stuff, but I did get a DIY channel that showed several cooking shows, creative ways to make/change stuff for decor and a couple of This Old House type shows that always showed how a simple project could be done.

After a couple of weeks, I was going nuts. I started watching the DIY/cooking shows to pass time and remembered I had an old Fannie Farmer Cookbook as well as a Better Homes one (it was red & white like a picnic blanket), and realized I had some decent amounts of flour, sugar, spices/herbs, etc as well as some box mixes for cakes and whatnot. So, I started looking through and picking some easier looking recipes. I'd taken the mandatory Home Ec classes in junior high (1 semester of sewing, 1 of cooking) and knew how to cook some stuff, but baking? Beyond a box mix I hadn't don't much of it. So to keep myself from madness, I used those books and shows to learn how to actually bake, all the way up to some decorating tips for cakes. I'm no cake boss, but I make some mean little 'fake fondant' (icing + confectioners sugar) things and can do some decent piping and multi-color cakes for cut reveals, plus learned how to sugar edible flowers for decoration. Beyond that, I learned how to make some simple breads and candies, though the candy was a pain in the ass to get the hang of. Hard candy especially. Now, even tho I rarely make hard candies, I know how to do so.

I also watched the DIY Home stuff and noted what I liked. There were a couple of episodes demonstrating how to apply different textures on interior walls with just a couple of tools (spatula/mud spreader, a board or ruler for broader strokes and sanding blocks) that I ended up learning and using in a place I moved to later. I ripped off the paneling, filled all the holes and repaired brick damage, then applied the layers, then painted and did a damp rub with a metallic overtone followed by a quick damp wipe so it'd only remain on creases or in the pocking and it looked so good!

Those weeks of learning have remained beneficial throughout the years since, but it took me a couple of weeks to get to a point where I was both bored enough and well enough to pick something and actually do it. Even then, I realized I knew very little about both groups of activities so I purposefully chose things that were few ingredients, simple steps and small batches at first. The DIY home stuff was less immediately beneficial but has been used and successfully raised property values.

Depending on where you are and how long you've been on stay-home, you may be coming up on a similar "gotta do something or go crazy" breaking point where others have been doing stuff since their Day 1. Everybody is different and a lot of us have different situations going on, so if you see people crafting or cooking away, don't feel like you're the odd one or wasting your time or whatever. Sometimes it just takes different things to get people motivated or curious about something, and that is completely normal.

If you are getting stir-crazy and don't have much money or time, you could look at small projects like learning simple origami (hopping frogs are always a hit) or practicing improving your penmanship / trying out basic calligraphy with chisel tip markers or highlighters, or little flip-books from scrap paper. Look up "how to make box cake taste great" if you have some box mixes, or check out those 2-5 ingredient recipes or look at making a nice salt or sugar scrub for yourself. Make a little jar with single words on slips and pull one or more to base a short poem or story about/including the word, or use the word on the slip in an internet search and write about one of the top 10 image results. It doesn't have to be baking or cooking or language, it could be anything that you enjoy doing.

If you don't do anything, *that is fine too, there is zero requirement you must learn something new during this time*. The important thing is that you are doing what helps you feel OK, and whether that means nightly bubble baths or brushing up on your old high school Italian or doing nothing "productive" but only things that keep you mentally balanced and OK, then that's what you do and nobody should make you feel bad for how you handle your own mental well-being.

Sleep enough.

Drink your water.

Eat or snack to keep your body strong.

Open a curtain or stand outside to get some sun, help process that Vitamin D into K.

Stretch when you remember, especially if you are spending most time in a chair, on a couch or in bed.

Everything else are just ways to spend time and distract your focus from our lives being turned topsy-turvy overnight, and you'll be able to identify when you need to add something or remove something from your life or your mindset.

Good luck, everyone. Coming out of this on the other side is what matters, everything else are just details.

But what if Stiles was a Raven (in any fashion, but important that some people know and call him by nicknames referring to it)

And Peter tells him, "Stiles, I need you to give So-and-so a message today on your way to work."

Stiles rolls his eyes and grumbles, but agrees.

Later on, So-and-So gets ahold of Peter: "Look, I know I shouldn't have mocked your love of Game of Thrones but if you keep sending me messages exclusively '... by Raven!!' I swear I'll—"

".. BY RAVEN?!!?"

Stiles yells as he walks in the room. "Seriously, Peter?" Pausing to think, said Raven then shrugs and looks ridiculously clever somehow in a way Peter hasn't quite figured out the mechanics for. "Well, you're not wrong, Wolf."

The next morning, Peter wakes up with bits of ribbons in his hair and with his blanket-clad body completely covered in an absolute horde of coins, buttons, glycine candy wrappers, sample size ice cream spoons in a multitude of colors, countless bits of tumbled glass and 'are these twist-ties?? Safety-pins? what the...? Did the Sheriff's Department have a single toy badge left in the entire County?!?"

But what really takes the cake are the handfuls of slightly crumpled origami wolves folded from metallic wrapping paper that Stiles had shoved into the coffee pot.

Peter barely rescued them before they drowned.

Well, most of them.

Well, some of them.

Hey, he tried, alright?

When Stiles finally gets home, he's greeted by shiny new Mason jars and glass containers of all sizes full of his gifts, all sorted into categories by color and type. But what really takes the cake is the tiny little clothesline Peter hung over the sink, damp paper wolves drying all in a row. All attached to the line with gorgeous, gleaming paperclips around a small note that simply reads, "I got your message."

I was born on the west coast the day his mother ate the last slice of her own leftover birthday cake, not yet knowing that would be the first cake he would experience.

Years after we first met, H's mother told me the story of his birth and behind the laughter and joke of "and now I know it's because he was so eager to meet you!", I could still see a bright sliver of fear in her eye. Her excitement was clear and warm, her joy still infectious, but it will never be enough to diminish that sharp gleam.

I thought of my grandfather and grandmother growing up in a big city on the east coast far away from where I was born. They lived in times of gigantic cranes and almost invisible masons building behemoths; of hope and wonder and poverty alike. I thought of their hands, young and small, clutching precious thin coins so tightly that only a bright sliver of edge was visible. I imagined them relinquished, dropping into a box at the Boardwalk as excitement rose. They step inside a small room full of tiny infants, all born too early and all behind glass protecting these miniature humans from a world as of yet too large for them.

I think of those slivers of connection and am thankful for the excitement in the eyes of doctors who realized how much a small amount of warmth and a small pane of glass could save these children. I think of that sliver of fear in their eyes as other physicians scoffed and refused for decades to see the plain truth of things, who ignored the joy of the families reunited at an amazing rate. I think of the nurses who tended each infant and incubator with a mix of professionalism and showmanship, and bared slivers of flesh to feed babies not their own.

I think of fear and excitement and morbid curiosity and how small coins rang through the decades to save the life of someone I love, and I recognize even more deeply why those edges never grow dull or overwhelmed by relief or surety of anything today.

Finding and having the gall to write

Swirling through yesterday's rain

Words taken with the tiniest of nibbles

Having had my fill, I reunite