Covid - It's the Apocolypse, Not the End of the World
|"Did I ever tell you you're my hero? Thank you, thank God for you"|
It’s been a long time, even years, since I last posted! My God woman, what the hell happened...
Let’s see, I’ve had a few spectacular excuses:
After many wonderful years of living abroad I moved back to the land of the leprechauns -once the troll-in-chief had taken over my adopted country it was a no-brainer. Upon arriving ‘home’ I quickly developed heart failure from an old chemo injury playing up. It was a little dicey for a while but they slapped a defibrillator/pacemaker inside me and I was good to go, that is until a few months ago when I had open heart surgery (I’ll write some fun near-death stories on that in a bit).
I think it’s fair to say I’ve faced my own mortality more than once, in fact we’re bosom buds, facebook friends, zoom zingers and playbook pingers. Usually wrestling with my inevitable death is a lonely affair, a tango for two, and to be honest I’m bored of the old dance, Death Paso Doble’s it’s way around me while I’ll shimmer and shine out of sight.
Enter stage left… to much applause (but of course, no high fives)... the pantomime baddie… Covid 19
All of sudden, every single human on the planet is dancing with Death. China put the music on. Italy turned it into a Rave, Spain spiced it up, the UK highered the volume, Germany over-reacted, America under-reacted. And Ireland came into it’s own, sure haven’t we spent centuries talking about death, misery and the quareness of your man, your woman and itself in between.
I don’t take it lightly. I have read all of the heartbreaking stories, the doctors and nurses on the frontlines exhausted and crying after their shifts. The people dying who should never have suffered. The elderly dying in excruciating pain. The women dying, the men dying, the old, the young (the young, Jesus, the young)...
Reading the news every day destroys me, but I want to, because in between the horror (and we must know the horror), are the glimpses of humanity. The teddy bears in the windows, the postal workers checking in on the elderly, people sharing, people oversharing - it might be the Apocalypse, but it’s not the end of the world.
The most resounding piece of advice I have heard throughout the world's biggest battle in living history, was a titbit fly away comment on a far distant podcast… “Be gentle” someone said. It’s so true. All of us, everyone, the entire friggin globe and the mad bangers that inhabit it are experiencing extreme mental stress and strain. If you think you have it under control, you are probably at the epicentre of your own implosion. If you think you are out of control, join the queue. Release the valve; get your Joe Wicks exercise on, read a book, take a walk, get something off your chest, say sorry, say I love you, but most of all, be gentle with each other.
If you can survive this… be gentle with yourself.
How the hell are ya getting on??
Personally, I’m getting through this by trying to find humour and reconnecting with an old friend -which, for me, is writing -even if I’m in isolation just ricocheting rhymes off my prison cell. The lockdown has inspired me to dust off my blog, rescue it from near deletion, and reach out.
My next post will be about getting tested for Covid 19 and a great banana bread recipe (kidding about the recipe, although I do have one). Then on to the laughs I had during heart failure - I was in stitches!
A Post Script from my 6 year old daughter: “We are all staying together...is it always going to be like this? I think staying together is a good thing. I think if we all keep together it will be very helpful for the world. Together, apart. All of us need to help with the corona virus... Mum, does anybody know when this will end?” …!!
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