AS LAS VEGAS WAITS: ‘‘UNCERTAINTY IS OUR CONSTANT COMPANION’

When the smoke settles, we'll be back. Photo: Norm Clarke

Grim-faced nurses greet you at the entrance of clinics, diagnostic centers and doctors’ offices. Greet might be the wrong word. Armed with hand-held, fever-detecting thermo scans and wearing protective face masks, they are the first line of defense against the coronavirus in Las Vegas.

“Do you have a dry cough? Shortness of breath? Fever? Have you traveled to areas with outbreaks?”

I have a dry cough. Doesn’t everybody? It’s allergy season.

A sobering moment of truth arrives. The nurse holds up the scanner.

My wife’s forehead is scanned. Then mine.

We’re OK, the nurse said. “Who is your appointment with?”

We were at my doctor’s office on Thursday. Three hours earlier, we were at a clinic for a blood draw. The day before, a urine test at Quest, where the staff was in head-to-toe protective gear.

Like most Americans, my wife Cara and I have not been tested for COVID-19. Proactively, we have been self-quarantining for two weeks. That’s when we started sleeping in different rooms, in hopes one wouldn’t infect the other.

A month ago, Cara came home from the vet with our oldest Silky Terrier. Almost 14, Rumor had been gnawing a paw, the one that required the removal of a cancerous growth last year. Cara walked into our bedroom and placed Rumor next to me. He freaks out everytime we take him to the vet. On every trip he tries crawling up on my shoulders and makes panicky crying noises.

He was in surprisingly good spirits. No bandages. I smothered him with affection.

Cara sat down on the edge of the bed. “I have bad news,” she said softly. I froze. I had dreaded that this moment would someday arrive. Rumor has cancer in his lymph nodes, she said. I burst into tears. “No, no, no!” I’m nearly 78. I’ve made no secret that I hoped I would have heaven scouted out long before Rumor and his running mate, Scandal, would join me. With the precarious health situation we are all facing, I realize the thing we hold most dear are our families (furry and otherwise) and friends.

Every moment is precious with our sweet boy, Rumor

Much has changed since the Rumor development. Coronavirus, after building momentum around the world, feels like a wolf at the door. With all the visitors Las Vegas attracts, uncertainty is our constant companion. We worry about our beloved city. What new reality awaits?

Our new world is deadly quiet. Until a few weeks ago, thundering passenger jets taking off from nearby McCarran International Airport regularly awoke the neighborhood at 5:30 a.m.

Replacing the roaring jet noise, a most-welcome chorus of chirping birds serenade from trees on the golf course at Las Vegas Country Club. Dean Martin and his wise-cracking cronies often played here in a carefree time.

Normally we hear the ever-present buzz of throbbing energy from the Las Vegas Strip. Now it’s more muted. With the monolithic gaming palaces shuttered, fewer generators are cranking out power.

Police sirens can be heard from miles away now. Sad thought: Will it be ambulances times 10 in another week?

In the suburbs, long lines await shoppers at the big box retail stores. A friend went shopping at Costco in Summerlin this week and found hundreds adhering to the six-foot social distancing rule. He got inside in less than a half hour. When he left, the lines had grown to 90-minute waits. He noticed something else: Costco staffers were disinfecting shopping carts.

Chinatown’s great restaurant scene has been hit especially hard. Parking lots are nearly empty. So are the sports books that would normally be inundated with the March Madness throngs.

How quickly times have changed in the fast-food industry. Orders are being handed to customers by staffers wearing rubber gloves. Lyft and Uber food deliveries have boosted business.

I’m not someone who normally gets into podcasts. But I couldn’t resist one that featured John Henderson, a former Denver and Las Vegas sportswriter. He moved to Rome four or five years ago and beautifully captures life abroad with his blog, Dog-eared Passport. Now he’s covering apocalyptic scenes in Italy that really brought this pandemic close to home. I highly recommend it. Here’s the link:

https://750thegame.com/bft-interview-john-henderson/

I miss hugging my wife (and watching TV sports). I stay away from food shows. With all the 24-7 breaking news, I’d be a stress-eating machine, a candidate for “My 600-pound Life.” I long for a return to our normal upbeat conversations about our families. I have no doubt her great sense of humor will help us weather the storm of our lives.

Embrace the quarantine. Stay in and stay strong. When this passes, and the bright lights bring back the crowds, we’ll be stronger than ever.