Lessons in Humility and Respect
The first illness I remember, Measles,
dinner with Raggedy Ann,
Great Neck, 1953 in my parent's bed, a rare treat
In the continuing wake of Covid I feel as though I
have been sterilizing my life. After receiving all vaccinations and boosters,
finally, I felt safe. My defenses slipped away. After all, wearing a mask is
such a hassle in our horrible Florida swamp of heat and humidity. Besides, I
reasoned, most people are vaccinated now. I constantly use hand sanitizer. I am
safe. Was I ever wrong!
I brought home a gift from somewhere. It unwrapped
itself in our lives and penetrated far more than my life. I have never been so
ill, in body and soul and in ways I never could have imagined. This had to be
the flu. My body ached and I had a fever which I rarely experience. I was
vaccinated and boostered against the enemy, Covid, which I had experienced
previously. I was familiar with Coronavirus symptoms. This was different. It
was the Flu, for which I had not yet been vaccinated, I told myself.
For five days I believed the flu was our unwelcome guest. I could not yet summon the energy to get out of bed. I never have fears of illness. I am invincible, I thought. This time, I worried.
I had no appetite or sense of taste. I had a headache
in my skull so severe I used a cold pack and extra-strength Tylenol to ease the
pain. I was exhausted. Belatedly I realized the symptoms of Covid had raised
it’s ugly head, again. I finally dug through the medicine cabinet and retrieved
my Quick Covid Test. I took it, and felt as though I was taking a pregnancy
test, waiting for the colors to change. They did. I had Covid.
I am feeling most unwell. Another Vodka, please. (Edvard Munch)
My wonderful primary care physician prescribed a
legion of warriors against Flu and Covid: prescriptions, steroids, a new Brio
inhaler, Flonase and cough medications Tim provided the tissues. I was now
battling towards health in my fort of recovery.
I settled
into the couch nest Tim had made for me. He had recovered from the flu.
Fortunately, he never developed Covid. Tim loved his flu fevers. They were his
nighttime companions.
One night, deep in sleep, I was awakened by Tim's voice “Such great dreams and hallucinations! I’ve been waiting for this since the 60s!”
"Wow,” I said, my voice dripping with sleep and sarcasm, which Tim didn't catch. "So happy for you." I was thrilled, in a way, that he found joy in his illness. I did not. I rolled over, and tried to go back to sleep.
During the days I sweated on the couch and wondered how much energy it would take to drag myself into the shower. Instead, I would weakly ask Tim for another cup of tea with honey, another blanket.
There is something about being sick that tears at your
soul, teaches you how to live and how to be grateful for every second of life.
You become fearful, in ways you never imagined. You doubt your existence and
your future. You discover humility, astonishment, admiration and respect for
those who are really sick. I cuddled into my couch nest with my pillow and
blanket. I slept. Constantly.
As I recovered, after almost a month, humility and awe quickly replaced my initial "why me?" self pity. I wondered, how do desperately ill people retain their hopes and dreams? How do these brave souls face every day through their own or their loved one’s serious diseases? I am amazed at friends who face cancer, broken limbs, diabetes, MS, ALS, with courage, bravery and even humor.
Where do they find the strength to joke and tease
nurses, surgeons and physicians surrounding their hospital beds? Every one of
these individuals have my deepest admiration. While I might complain of a cough
they don’t lament their cancer treatment. While I sleep comfortably in my cozy
bed in our lovely bedroom these courageous souls lay awake and alone in their
hospital bed. Their sleep is constantly interrupted by beeping monitors and
creeping nurses checking their vitals. Their meals are provided, or not, based
on their illness. I have never heard of anyone loving hospital food I thought,
as Tim brought me a delicious steaming bowl of Pasta Fagioli.
To all these brave folks of all ages and walks of life
who struggle towards recovery you are amazing. You teach a lesson of hubris and
hopefulness to your circle of friends and family, as well as to the world.
Thank you for your courage.
In closing, a gentle reminder: Please wear your masks,
get vaccinated and boostered to keep yourself and everyone around you safe.
Never underestimate the power of a germ, bacteria, a virus, a cell gone
haywire, or the strength of those afflicted.
Keep your faith in science. We are fortunate to learn
the lessons of those around us, in sickness and in health. Don’t let anyone
down, we’re all part of this great experiment in humanity.
We all want to survive. Let’s apply these lessons
together. Covid isn't going away. And neither are we.
Post Views : 214