We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.
-Charles Bukowski
On October 15th, Governor Phil Murphy of New Jersey announced that indoor events “are increasingly becoming the starting points for outbreaks.” He was referring to holiday gatherings, of course, (read Thanksgiving), and he comments that “sadly, we’re seeing more and more family gatherings” as being problematic.
I’ll rephrase that.
He feels that it is unfortunate that we feel compelled to get together with family, because we could all be infecting each other with a virus that we don’t have, that we probably won’t get, and that has a ridiculously high survival rate. Let me provide some statistics. These come courtesy of Fox News, but before you libs get your panties in a wad, you can find the same statistics on CDC.gov, or the WHO website. Of course the latter two outlets won’t just blurt out these statistics. You’ll have to wade through a phenomenal amount of rhetoric and science-speak BS before you reach these same numbers. Without further ado, here are Covid survival rates:
0-19 years of age: 99.997%
20-49 years of age: 99.98%
50-69 years of age: 99.5%
70+ years of age: 94.6%
I like these odds. I like them for a test score. I trust them for a weather report. I respect them for an admittance rate into a program. But then again, I’m a glass half-full kind of gal.
Let me change tack by discussing air travel. Elite Runway says, and I quote, that “the probability of your plane going down is so slim it’s almost pointless to quantify.” But for the sake of argument, please know that the odds of dying as a plane passenger are 1 in 11 million. To put that in perspective, you have a 1 in two million chance of dying when you fall out of bed. A 1 in 4,050 chance of dying when you hop on your bike. Oh, and when you get in your car? You have a 1 in 102 chance of a one-way ticket to the Pearly Gates.
You scared of your Jetta?
If the idea of hovering 35,000 feet in the air unnerves you, maybe it would help to know that the deadliest plane crash in history happened in 1977, when two planes collided on the runway, killing 583 people.
Terra firma’ll get ya every time.
This is a jolly good time, so I’m going to keep going. Without even mentioning cancer or heart disease, here are things more likely to kill you than an airplane crash:
- Food poisoning: 1 in 3 million
- Death by ladder: 1 in 2.3 million
- Having your flesh eaten by flesh-eating bacteria: 1 in one million
- Hit by a meteorite: 1 in 700,000
I have a million of these. But brevity is the soul of wit, as Polonius says.
The following statistical jewels come courtesy of medRxiv, and although the website states these findings should not be reported since they have not been “peer-reviewed,” this site is sponsored by the very snobby, the very prudent, the very liberal Yale University (statistics change slightly when it comes to the elderly and those with co-morbidities. But only slightly):
Say you live in a normal size city, not too big, not too small- the chances that you will get infected by COVID is one in 40,500. As in, to even have the chance of getting exposed, you would probably have to come in contact with 40,500 people.
That’s like, two-thousand trips to Starbucks. Or one Eagles game with two beer runs.
Oh, and let me add this little baby: to even be sick enough to require HOSPITALIZATION, an adult aged 50-64 would have to have engaged in a 1 in 709,000 person contact experience. So adults aged 50-64 have a better chance to die by a falling meteorite than to be hospitalized due to COVID. You gonna give up grandmom’s stuffing for THOSE ODDS?
Well, shit.
Before you send me hate mail, I will state the obvious. This is not a political blog. I am not a scientist. I am not a doctor. I am simply sane. I am rational. I hear over and over on the news, “Follow the science.”
Isn’t that science speaking in the above statistics?
Of course we want to keep our loved ones safe. Of course we don’t want to expose and endanger our elderly or compromised. Of course if you invite family from out-of-state, a COVID-test could put everyone’s minds at ease. Of course (if it’s a real concern in your family), you can have guests arrive early and quarantine for two weeks.
But regarding Governor Murphy’s advice: Mom has a better chance of dying by falling off the pantry ladder while reaching for the canned yams than she does dying of COVID. Uncle Jim and Aunt Alice have a better chance of perishing on the highway. Little Billy has a better chance of getting sick from underdone turkey. The twins have a better chance of getting injured playing around on the bunk beds upstairs.
It’s just math.
And you know the spirited game of touch football everyone enjoys before dessert? What are the odds that cousin Ralphie will die of a bee sting? (one in 79,842). Isn’t it fair to say that when you go home and draw yourself a nice relaxing bubble bath before bed, you have a better chance of drowning in the tub (one in 685,000) than dying of COVID?
I’m sorry for the gallows humor and sobering statistics. They are what they are. Anyway, Governor Murphy started it. Nanny-nanny-boo-boo.
Everyone has to do what they feel it’s safe to do. I, for one, Governor Murphy, am going to drive safely to my brother’s house, hug my family, talk without a mask, stuff my face, enjoy my nieces and nephews, and drive home. Further, this coming weekend I’m going to hop on my plane and enjoy my flight, because I am a sane and rational person who knows how safe air travel really is.
The odds are in my favor.