Sequela

Recently, my daughter wondered whether she would be psychologically damaged from all this Covid stuff, and then we both kind of laughed. I said we probably would all need ECT but that mine was wine.

And then I paused. A sequela is a condition which is the consequence of a previous disease or injury. The aftermath. The effect.

Much earlier this year, I said with bravado... I’m going to wash my hands like this forever. Because, you know, there’s more nasties out there than Covid and I might as well kill them too. But, today I was considering a quick visit to a children’s store with Ben, to shop for his baby sister who should be here within a few weeks. I thought it would be fun and so, so special. Vancouver Island has had no Covid cases in almost two weeks. In fact, in the entire health zone, only 5 are active and out of those, only one is in the hospital and not even in ICU. And that should give one a good bit of comfort and a tiche of confidence. But it doesn’t, not psychologically. Not anymore. And I paused to think about that. There are 870,000 people on this Island of ours. Last year, if you told me that six of them had the ‘flu and I needed to be careful, I would have laughed in your face. But not now, not with this beast lurking in the shadows with the dark cloak of invisibility. And who is to know what child or adult might have been in that store in the last two days, or what they might have touched.

I profoundly resent having to think like this.

Next month I’ll turn 65 years old. I am entirely confident that a vaccine will arrive within the year and that this particular pandemic will be roped into submission. But here’s what won’t be tied down, ever again. I’ll never be able to hold onto a safety rail and be confident that I am safeguarding my bones without jeopardizing my lungs. I’ll never be able to use a public washroom without sanitizer, soap, anxiety and copious use of their paper towels when I exit. I might never fly again. In my little town I don’t need to bus, tram or taxi - good thing, because those are off my list. In February I attended a public concert in Maui and I am so pleased to say it was the best one of my life. Because indeed, it might have been the last one of my life. I don’t regret that in the least; I feel lucky. Who knows what may lie ahead in the next five years, even if the vaccine is up and running and it has eradicated Covid. But even if it does, has this not opened everyone’s eyes like never before? It has mine. Whatever normal we eventually return to, I won’t be the same person. And I am not entirely sure that’s a bad thing. There is a microscopic community out there that we have treated with a blasé,  casual indifference for far too long. That mistake has effected global change, some aspects of which are for the better good.

Slow down. Be mindful. Observe cleanliness and kindness. This has always been the foundation of common sense.  Covid has presented us with an extortionate bill, the direct result of the abandonment of prudence and our frivolous sense of entitlement and indifference.  And now, we pay.

Connections

Kismet, Serendipity, Karma and Happenstance 

It's been 94 days since the first Covid case was identified in British Columbia on January 26, 2020.  I've been in self-imposed isolation for at about half that time, sheltering in place just before the province made that recommendation.  We are many weeks into this journey and it still has a sense of unreality.   Sometimes I briefly wonder whether I've created this alternative universe completely on my own and it's just a matter of time before I wake up to reality.   If only.

I have it so much easier than most.   I retired almost at the same second that Covid made its debut, so I am not frightened by loss of income or worse, needing to stay behind my desk and continuing to risk exposure.  I'm entirely happy in my little condo and my loved ones are all healthy, so I can ride this out for the long haul.  And there are even perks.  Like, shopping.   I love on-line shopping.   For everything from groceries to wine to dog food to batteries, it's just a click away and they all offer delivery.  And if delivery is not possible, there are creative alternatives.  I emailed a children's clothing store in Comox, wondering whether I might purchase a couple of baby outfits on line.   The response was instantaneous - Absolutely!  How would you like to do a virtual shop?  They contacted me in real-time and together we looked at their sweet little newborn sleepers and I listened to their recommendations, all from the comfort of my armchair.   Within 10 minutes I had chosen the outfits and just 15 minutes after that I pulled up curbside to their store where a smiling employee tossed a bag through my passenger window complete with wrapping tissue and gay ribbons.  I felt positivity regal.  

There have been other connections, some hilarious, some a little circuitous, but all of them lighting up the days.  Like when I received a text from number I didn't recognize, asking me whether I'd like a little homemade chocolate square.  It could have come from the Boston Strangler for all I knew, but my answer was predictable and instant:  "Yes please!  By the way, who is this?"  Turned out to be one of my neighbours and we both snickered at my alacrity.   Chocolate is chocolate, after all.  

Yesterday, my hiking buddy and I were enjoying our daily text fest about everything and nothing.  She mentioned, not for the first time, how much she would love to find a Labrador retriever, being an avid hiker and camper, not to mention dog lover.  I advised her to put it out to the universe and see what happens, my standard answer when I don't have anything more salient or comforting to say.   But this time the universe really was listening, and this morning my Facebook feed featured a request for a home for an outstanding young dog - a lab.   I couldn't get the information to my friend fast enough, and she immediately contacted the owner.   They exchanged emails, photographs, details.   And before lunch even rolled around, she was celebrating, with sweaty palms and dry throat, the fact that she is now the new owner of a very lucky one year old dog - a perfect pandemic puppy.  This would not - could not - have happened without the connection from friend to friend to friend, and in these strange times.  

What is my point?  That this is a time that is also redolent with humour, camaraderie, friendship, hope and mustard seed faith.  Sparks that might not otherwise have been noticed.  It is my nature to grasp for the silver lining because I don't see a viable alternative.  I am so grateful for the comfort of connections and the empathetic direction we are heading.  May all of our choices reflect our hopes and not our fears.

Endurance

Mabel Jessie Corbett

On the fourth finger of my left hand, tucked right next to my wedding band is a slender gold ring with "Blue River" inscribed on the inside.  I have worn it since my mother gave it to me many decades ago.  It was my grandmother's wedding ring, worn by the gentle, artistic and enduring spirit also known as JM Burnet, the signature she used on the beautiful oil paintings she created in the last 40 years of her life. The ring never left her finger until the day she passed away, well into her 80s.

It was placed on Jessie's finger on her wedding day on July 29, 1912, when she was 23 years old.  Just two years later, World War One was declared and only four years after that, the Spanish Flu decimated the world's population.  At 29, Jessie already had three children and her husband, a quiet, shy man, worked at the Bank of Toronto.  They survived the influenza.   In 1929 the Great Depression arrived.  By then she was 40, with a thriving family of six children, including my mother who was born in 1922, the only child to be born in a hospital.  Her sons fought in World War 2, and all survived.  Smallpox ended in Canada in the mid 1940s, but between 1949 and 1954 the polio epidemic ripped through the population, the most serious epidemic since the 1918 influenza pandemic.  Measles arrived too, and chicken pox, and mumps.   Then, and for the next 40 years, the best thing to do was to expose your children to it so as to get them through it and confer immunity as quickly as possible.  Measles parties were popular and hugely attended, with the mothers quietly resolved to see the inevitable course through as it infected their families.   I myself did the same thing with chicken pox in the early 1980s and as fate would have it, our chicken pox course was followed almost immediately by mumps.   It was two months before we found our feet but at least I knew my children had earned lifelong immunity to both.

There is no comparison to Covid with those diseases of yore and although I hate to use the word unprecedented  - I am so heartily sick of hearing that term - there is no other way to describe it. Our current challenge is unmatched because of  its novelty, giving it an extra springboard of threat.  And truly this is the first global systemic scare to come our generation's way.  911 was terrifying and violent but it was not global and it did not threaten our elder population or occasionally our young, healthy people.  Of course the past two or three generations have fretted about climate change, economics, politics, social disruption and personal implosions but nothing has ever given us a gut-punch like this. We are also blessed and cursed with a barrage of media, unlike the pandemics before.

In these poignant and reflective days I often look to this ring for comfort, and I spin it around my finger searching out the history locked within the muted glow that saw Jessie through so many threats, so much worry and dread.  I pray it will also protect my family through this perilous time.  Then, as now, those who endure, conquer.