Sunday, March 15, 2020

Hoping



Listen.  Or look, whatever you like.  Trump isn't wrong.  The pandemic will kill itself.  The more people who get the virus this year, the more people who will have antibodies next year.  Nobody is saying that.  Let's just assume there was no science, that this was the Middle Ages, what would happen?  Eventually, the thing would go away.  Why?  People would build immunities.  Nature has a plan.  It doesn't care about you individually.  That is why you invented religion.

I say this as someone who is in voluntary isolation.  Had lunch with a traveller who passed through Korea.  Now I feel ill.  I don't think it is Corona, but I can't take a chance.  I have an eighty-eight year old mother.  So do others.  Aunts, uncles, grandparents.  This is not about you.  It is about who you might spread it to.  I am on some group texts with very well-educated folks who are blasé about Corona.  They are younger than I and in good health.  Why should they worry?  They go anywhere, do anything.  But they don't think.

I spent the day sleeping, taking silver collodion, Umka, and oscillococcinum, all homeopathic remedies for viruses that have been heralded by science.  I'm kidding.  The scientific evidence is much to the contrary.  I am taking all the vitamins, too.  I have felt worse, and I have felt better, all in the course of hours.  I've drunk water and I've eaten.  I watered the yard to be in the sun.  I read outside.  And I slept some more.  And tonight, I do not have a fever.  What should I do if I get one?  A test will tell me if I have it, but it will not help me.  Nothing will, apparently.  One's body either fights it off or one dies.  That is that.  And so I stay away from my mother and all others until I feel strong and healthy again.

That could be tomorrow.  Still, I will wait many days before I go around my mother or others. The virus will definitely spread, but I don't want to be responsible.

My great pleasure today has been texting with friends.  I've not turned the t.v. on once.  Texting and reading and a few careful drinks.  The life of an invalid.

One can only desire the occasional companionship more.


.* .* .*.

I slept a very long time.  I don't feel better.  I don't feel worse, but I don't feel better.  Anxiety takes hold.  I have arranged for people to leave things on my doorstep if I need them.  I can't seem to distract myself from the way I feel.  Solitary hours are long.  There is nothing but what goes on inside your head.  That is the challenge.

I hope to feel better.

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