When it became obvious that a pandemic was on its way to strike the United States, I had no idea what to expect.  I googled articles on preparing for a pandemic and began to prepare.  My insurance shockingly allowed me to refill my maintenance prescriptions early, and I bought some extra canned goods.    I am thankful that food hasn't been a large issue and that the grocery stores are warriors at restocking.  Those cans of soup and turkey chili are not enticing.
This is not the first time that I have stocked for a pending disaster.  When I was in second grade, the U.S. and the former Soviet Union were on the brink of a nuclear showdown.  My mother was panicked and insisted on stocking food.  I asked my dad what would happen if Dallas-Fort Worth was struck by nukes, and his answer was so calming.  He told me, "Georgianne, don't worry about it.  You would never know about it."  For years, I was comforted by the thought that Denton would not be affected by a nuclear attack on our area.  When I was in high school, I remember a discussion in my favorite high school class, American History, about the arms race, and I started to quote my dad.  Then it hit me--we wouldn't know it because we would be vaporized.  Thanks, Dad.
In the 1980s, I lived in Corpus Christi.  The first hurricane warning we had, I stocked up on bottled water (that was when the bottled water was in those huge bottles) and canned meat.  The storm went inland south of Corpus and hit northern Mexico.  That canned tuna and chicken lasted too long.  The second warning eight years later, I packed up, and my daughters and I moved to Denton.
So--I prepared to stock up for coronavirus in the middle of February  There hadn't been any official statements from the government, but I watch the news.  It was obvious that the virus would be here soon, so I made a list of what were the items that I had to have, literally couldn't live without them, and ranked these in priority.
What was first on the list?  Those of you who know me well probably can guess.  Let me explain.
I don't like hot drinks.  I don't like coffee at all, and I can tolerate hot tea in small amounts.  However, I am not caffeine free--far from it.  I drink Diet Dr Pepper.  Yes, there is no period after Dr, and that little known fact is included in the AP Stylebook that I had to memorize in my undergraduate journalism classes.  When I started my affair with DDP, it only came in glass bottles.  Then came the blue cans which transformed into silver cans when I was in grad school.  For decades, this nectar has been provided in its ironic white cans when brownish lettering.
Dr Pepper (all types--diet, vanilla, cherry, etc.) is the offficial drink of Texas.  Texans drink Dr Pepper.  It's ours.  I have always consumed the diet variety even while I was in high school.  My classmates at North Texas just accepted my ever present Diet Dr Pepper that I enjoyed as they drank cups of coffee.  Sometimes, I have difficulty locating my DDP out of state.  I never found any when I was in China ten years ago.  All that was provided was Coke (which is everywhere) and Pepsi.  I do not like Pepsi at all--too sweet.  Same results when I was in the Philippines--just Coke.  Ironically, Japan did have my DDP but in small amounts.  I could find it at 7-11s.  I haven't been to Europe in twenty years, but I never saw a Dr Pepper anywhere.  My daughter found me some DDPs in Montreal and when I visited her when she was working in New Hampshire, she had stocked a few for me. 
The cartoon series "South Park" immortalized Dr Pepper as an "agnostic" drink with this description:  "What flavor is it?  It is neither root beer nor cola.  Nobody is sure what flavor it is, and nobody can be sure."
In the spring of 2018, I attended the American Defenders of Bataan and Corregidor descendants convention in Albuquerque.  The first thing I did when I arrived at the hotel was to check the gift shop to scout the availability of my favorite drink.  Since New Mexico borders Texas, I was hopeful, and I did manage to buy six cans (yes, I cleaned out the store).  The next morning, I was attending a convention session, sipping on my morning DDP, when a woman marched into the room and loudly asked in a Texas accent, "Who bought up all of the Diet Dr Pepper in the gift shop?"  My friends looked at me accusingly, and I put my can on the floor under the table.  The woman spotted me in action, though, and came over.  I offered to give her one of my cans but after introducing ourselves, she deemed us as neighbors because she was from Granbury (Granbury isn't that close to Denton).  She went to a nearby 7-11 to get her DDPs and even brought me back some cans.  That's the friendly Texas way.
My love affair with Diet Dr Pepper has spanned more than fifty years.   I never thought much about it.  Many students gave me 12 packs for Christmas.  People just know and respect my choice, I guess.  It doesn't bother anyone.  You drink coffee, I drink a soft drink.  However, I did learn that it bothered my former spouse.  One of his parting shots at me when he moved out was, "And I never want to see another Diet Dr Pepper ever."  I had to bite my tongue not to reply what I never wanted to see again.  You can guess what I would have said.
I'm ready for quarantine.  I am well stocked.