COVID-19: I’m not afraid, I’m angry

My older daughter is one of the toughest people I’ve ever known.

She was only just into her teens when I first met her, as her mother and I began our relationship. Right away, I noticed what I call her “quiet tenacity.” I knew immediately she was incredibly strong, intelligent and not at all easy to impress. Earning her trust and love is among the greatest things I gotten right in life so far.

(To clarify, I don’t like and refuse to use the term “step” child — the moment my wife and I exchanged wedding vows, all of the five children involved in our Brady Bunch became “ours.”)

Over the years, I’ve watched her rise to one challenge after another and smash through barrier after barrier as she’s worked toward lofty goals. She’s now 26, a new mom and studying — almost entirely online — toward an advanced degree in medicine. All while working as a nurse at hospitals in two neighboring communities.

During a recent visit, she updated me briefly about how things have been going at work, as she frequently has since the pandemic began. It wasn’t good news. At all. But far more disturbing than anything I heard was what I saw in her eyes. Something I’ve never seen there before.

Despair.

As with so many others working in medicine right now, she’s reaching the point where she has simply seen and endured too much.

She described to me feeling as if she spends her working hours in a war zone, beset everyday with new horrors, and is then expected to move seamlessly into the world outside, where so many people still want to keep thinking — and acting — as if nothing particularly unusual is going on.

One of my favorite movies is “Apocalypse Now.” It’s a veritable gold mine of classic lines. Such as this one:

“In Vietnam, the bullshit piled up so fast, you needed wings to stay above it.”

Swap out “America” for Vietnam”, and I think we have an apt description of how things have gone since this all started. Right out of the gate, kooks and cranks emerged from every nook and cranny of the digital landscape — conspiracy theories and half-baked ideas were scurrying everywhere like long-legged rats. And there was the constant background noise of people chattering about their “rights and freedoms” being taken away. Sometimes the chatter erupted into bellows. And there were blatant, public displays of people — sometimes large groups of people — deliberately flouting even the most basic safety protocols and guidelines. By golly, nothing could be delayed, cancelled or even altered, because… well, because “my rights.”

Problem is, “rights” don’t exist in a vacuum devoid of civic duty or responsibility toward others — particularly not right in the middle of a contagious worldwide disaster.

I’m sure you’re familiar with the old saying: Your right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins.

Some of you — way too many of you, in fact — have effectively been punching my daughter square in the face.

Her, and so many more like her, who have taken those blows and been pushed, physically, psychologically and spiritually up to and past the point of exhaustion. Up to and past their breaking points.

Those of you who seem to take a perverse glee in claiming that those of us who are simply trying to do the right thing are “sheeple” living in fear — You’ve got it all wrong. I’m way past fear. I left that behind a long time ago.

No, I’m not afraid. I’m about as angry as I’ve ever been. And I’m willing to bet my relatively meager salary I’m far from the only one.

Now, if you were to talk to anybody who knows me, particularly my coworkers at my day job, they’d probably tell you I’m the easygoing one. The friendly one; the guy gets along to go along; the one who is quickest with the one-liners and able to find humor in virtually any situation.

But when I see one of my kids getting hurt? All that goes right out the window. And then you get the livid old bastard who is sitting behind this keyboard right now. If fed up. I’m done. I can’t handle any more of the bullshit.

Again, I’ll bet I’m far from the only one.

And you know the really funny part? It seems that the quarter of society that has for years now been calling everybody else snowflakes who expect participation trophies, that has constantly accused others of being delusional and entitled — that’s the segment of society which seems to have developed the most bloated sense of self-important entitlement during the grim course of this pandemic. That’s the section of the population that now wants the biggest participation trophy of all; expecting us all to play along with a direly perilous game of “let’s pretend.”

Let’s pretend nothing unusual is going on. And damn how it affects anybody else.

Yes, I know, I know… I can hear it already. The pandemic was bound to take a toll. The threat’s been grossly exaggerated. Medicine is an inherently stressful career, so anybody who signs up for it should have known what to expect…

What part of “unnecessary” don’t you understand? What part of “needless” escapes your mental grasp?

This didn’t have to be nearly as bad as it’s been, or will be. Causing unnecessary death and suffering, needless trauma and pain, by refusing to follow even the most basic safety protocols during an unprecedented natural disaster has nothing to do with rights or freedom, and everything to do with entitlement.

Mask mandates, moving dining outdoors and perhaps restricting certain interactions to Zoom calls only don’t represent oppression. Hell, it isn’t even hardship. If you want to know about the real oppression and injustice in this society and who bears the brunt of it, we can have that conversation too, but I doubt you’ll want to hear what I have to say about that, either.

In fact, I’m not expecting to change many of the minds that actually need changing by writing this. Perhaps it’s more of a cathartic exercise, spleen venting if you will. Or, perhaps it’s my attempt to do my bit in bolstering the spirits and resolve of the others who do get it, who have had enough.

When will it end? Nobody knows for sure. Comparable pandemics have dragged on for several years. We could have this one essentially beaten in just a little more than one. That largely depends upon how many people are willing to put effort and just a little sacrifice ahead of entitlement.

Quit it with the misinformation, conspiracy theories, bizarre political theater and pretending you know more or better than medical professionals, virologists and epidemiologists. We’ve already got the Mount Denali of bullshit piles.

Wear a mask.

Social distance.

Wash your hands frequently and avoid touching your face.

Avoid crowds; do more online and less in person.

As the vaccines become available, get them.

My daughter and millions of others in the medical field will appreciate it.

And I’d appreciate never again having to see despair lurking behind one of the toughest pair of eyes I’ve ever looked in to.