I realize this particular oximeter reading makes it seem as though someone should be shoving a nasal cannula onto my nose and maybe writing me a stat script for beta-blockers.
That’s because I was waving my finger around, trying to figure out those new selfies settings.
Most of the time, my O2 saturation is a healthy 98%.
I put in the order for the pulse oximeter six weeks or so ago when it was all but impossible to get tested here.
Figured if I could monitor my O2 saturation, then I would know if I was drifting into dangerous territory.
Now, of course, every doc-in-the-box in Dutchess County offers testing. Why, I could go to a different doc-in-the-box every day and get tested! If I wanted to.
It rained most of yesterday.
Somehow, I managed to sneak out during the only two-hour stretch when it did not rain to screw around with the new phone camera.
The ominous looming mansion:
This is the shot I like the best because there’s something enchanted about the high, uncut grass in the meadow that this photo almost captures:
I go back and forth on lockdown measures.
Sometimes, I see the justification for them.
Most of the time, I don’t.
Because in the end, it really doesn’t matter if 500 million people die of novel coronavirus: That still leaves 7.5 billion people on the planet, which is like 4 billion people too many.
And I think people need to be trusted to do what they believe is right.
Otherwise, you’re—well. The word is not “infantilizing.” Really what you’re doing is turning people into adolescents, sneaking out behind Daddy Big Government’s back.
But, of course, it doesn’t matter what I think: It is what it is. Government policies slouch on their own immutable course.
Cross-posted from Dreamwidth