21 March 2020

I haven’t actually tested for the coronavirus, but I definitely have a toothache. Probably I have the virus since my wife has been in close contact with people that tested positive and I have the symptoms. I don’t have any respiratory distress so it’s kind of like a mild flu. We’re on lockdown. I haven’t ventured further than my courtyard since Tuesday morning, so it’s not like I’m going to infect anybody else. The doctors are busy. They are very busy here in Alsace. We know the proper way to get help if I get worse, but honestly I think I will be fine. Except for the toothache. I can’t do much for the toothache and there’s not much point in calling a dentist right now. We do have the advantage of French pharmacies being able to give more help than American pharmacies can without a prescription. My wife is an expert on pharmaceuticals and she brought home something today which is helping a little. She also got me sixteen more paracetamol (acetaminophen) tablets which is the maximum allowed because they are being rationed. I wish they had been as careful about rationing toilet paper.

France finally ran out of toilet paper. We tend to be a little behind (pun) America in social trends so we ran out just after the lockdown began. I tried ordering on Amazon and they accepted my order but later canceled it. Amazon did deliver a bottle of cognac yesterday and says they are bringing beer and Lillet Tuesday, so I’m glad they have their priorities right. There is also no flour but still plenty of fresh bread. I found some wheat and flour on Amazon and did something I never thought I would do in France: I baked. There’s fresh meat, but not the variety you might hope for. Amazingly, there is still coffee and we buy an extra can of our favorite brand every time we can since it seems inevitable that it will run out next. Everything else seems to be in good supply, even Czech Pilsner.

It seems like we’ve been on lockdown for weeks, but it’s only been four days. I had planned to write a lot more, but I haven’t felt that great and everything I write has reflected it. Church services have been canceled and nobody’s been showing up to practice on the organ, so the apartment has been even quieter than usual. Quieter except for the bells. Here in Alsace they ring the bells every time a parishioner dies. You get one strike of the bell for every year you lived. This virus is killing old people and the bells go on for long periods. And then they start at the church across the canal, or at the cathedral.

I am sorry to have written such a dark post, but it’s a somber time. I promise to find a better balance on the next post!