“I hate Covid. It f*cking sucks.”
My colleague on the death of his friend of 17 years tonight.
I don’t have the words to comfort. I don’t have the words anymore.
For once, the only emotion missing from this too-familiar scene is fear. Because this tragic story won’t be his story and it won’t my story because we got lucky. We got the vaccine before we got exposed. Before we got sick.
But while the brain says we are lucky, hearts are less jubilant — more layered with anger. The injustice, the timing. And guilt. So much guilt.
It is only lately, slowly, that my subconscious mind has quieted, stopped wondering, prodding me in small terrifying whispers when I gown up:
“Is this the day I get it?”
“If I get it, please don’t let me end up on oxygen.”
“If I get it, will I bring it home?” “What if I don’t get sick but my boys do?”
“What if get it and take months to recover? What would happen to my family and patients and colleagues?”
And now the hope … As more are vaccinated, this scene will end.
But still the fear … With supply shortages, logistical challenges, and vaccine hesitation, how long and how much more human cost before we get there?
#HoldFirm
0 Comments