A Different Kind of War

War

When I last wrote, I somewhat flippantly said it wasn’t as if a nuclear blast was imminent, and mockingly asked if people would resort to wearing garlic necklaces. How things have changed during these last twelve days.

I now have enough food and supplies to last the better part of a month, completing that endeavor by hitting the package store and dispensary yesterday. I have been working from home since Monday, for which I am grateful. I am not living like a hermit, and continue to venture outside to get essential items when necessary. I also meander outside the house on sunny days, following the social distancing protocols to the letter.  Still, the experience is surreal to say the least.

What I have experienced more than anything else these last two weeks, is how my perception and perspective of things have changed. I have habitually looked ahead, and planned for stuff months in advance, primarily because it gives me something to look forward to. Now my focus is literally day to day. Many things that were important seem trivial by comparison, and my priorities are where they should probably have always been. I care about what is happening in the global markets, but am not obsessed by it. It sucks that this pandemic hit while I was trying to sell my house, but there isn’t anything I can do about it. At least I have an empty spot to use as quarantine headquarters if that becomes necessary. Sports has always been my passion, but I don’t care when or if any of the seasons resume. I have been diligent in my proactive MS treatment, but am seriously considering suspending all of it for two to three months.

All I care about is the health of my friends and family, and hope that we are all still here come 2021. Talk about a stark, sobering reality.

I fortunately have never had to experience the horrors of war, but lets not kid ourselves. We are neck deep into one. There isn’t any lead flying, and we don’t have to be afraid of the metal hitting the meat when we step outside, but this war involves projectiles that you can’t see, which is more unnerving when you think about it. I feel for those who suffer from anxiety in general because if I were an anxious person by nature, I would be constantly afraid that a person in my line of sight might be one of them, as if they were part of The Walking Dead, or that there was an invisible cloud of viral death lurking in pockets of air outside.  Rationally, I know that is not the case, and that by keeping the appropriate social distance and washing my hands constantly, I am safe. To say however I’m not anxious at all would be a lie.

I don’t blame our government for not preventing this because that was impossible. What I do blame them for however is not taking it seriously, preparing for it and at least ensuring that what was needed to test and treat once this hit was in place. They have failed miserably in that regard, continue to do so, and still mislead the public by painting rosy pictures about drugs that don’t exist, and that help in the forms of supplies and equipment is on the way. As citizens we are dependent on our Governors to take charge, and many of them are rising to the occasion, but it is tragic we have to resort to this. Working in the healthcare field, I know that front line staff is running out of personal protective equipment (PPE) and we still don’t have enough test kits. It feels like we are living in a the midst of a Stephen King novel. I just hope people remember this come November.

Unfortunately, we are not alone, as this brilliant piece by Bojana illustrates. God help us.

I am trying to appreciate the little things in life, like a glorious sunrise and sunset, sitting on our deck, and enjoying what nature has to offer.  As sometime who has been married for over 30 years, I am spending more quality time with K than I have in a long time, and enjoying every minute of it.  I am actually reaching out to friends and family more than before because I appreciate them more and because it is a way to feel connected as we isolate ourselves socially. It’s a pity it took something this catastrophic to make that happen.

I know that the large majority of us will not get sick, and that the majority who do will survive this. But what a sad and miserable way to go for those who don’t. I believe that we will see the good in people more than the bad as we all work together for the common good, and hope that feeling of brotherhood and community survives this crisis. Everyone needs to sacrifice and follow the social distancing protocols so our hospitals don’t get overwhelmed, like they are now in Italy and are starting to in New York City. If that occurs were are all truly fucked.

It is time to hunker down, follow the rules, hope that the worst will be over soon, and most importantly, survive.

I beg you all to do the same.

 

 

 

Author: Steve Markesich

I am loving husband, a doting father, a Red Sox fanatic, an aspiring novelist and MS advocate. Feel free to check out my stevemarkesich.com web site.

5 thoughts on “A Different Kind of War”

  1. As I read this I am anything but isolated. I have anything but free time.

    When I woke up Friday morning I assumed I was heading in for a couple of hours before a long stay off. I was wrong. We had a morning meeting, decided we weren’t essential, told everyone they would be laid off, and made some phone calls. After a few phone calls we realized we read it wrong. We had appliances. Fridges. Washers. Ranges. People were going to have to cook, to clean, to keep stuff preserved. What were we thinking?

    We gave the crew a choice. Bob (who owns the place) will be here. Tom (who is the front line sales/supervisor/IT guy) will be here. Jon (primary delivery guy and unflappably hard worker) would be here. Everyone else was nonessential; we gave them the choice. The other two delivery guys, and my only backup salesperson, opted out.

    Bob would help on deliveries as needed.

    Tom would run the store.

    So instead of sitting at home, reaching out to folks, running 24-hour news, and (I don’t know) painting the deck, I’m here. Bell to bell. Every moment the store is open I man my station. Appliances are essential.

    So far, Shasta County only has had only three cases of coronavirus, no deaths, and one patient has already recovered. The other two were revealed yesterday and today. I don’t know how hard it will come, but I know it will. I have tons of toilet paper, enough food for a bit (but probably not enough for a month), and a will and desire to do what’s right.

    What’s right?

    I guess we’ll figure that out, as Bojana said, hour by hour, day by day.

    Best wishes to you and your family, Steve. Stay super safe.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You too my friend. Like you said, things change by the hour so who know what next week will bring let a lone tomorrow. I am essential as well, but have the ability to work from home, and even though I wouldn’t want to do it every day under normal circumstances, I am not complaining now. I have enough paper products to last two months, and enough of mostly everything else for a month. But this is going to last longer than a couple of months, I’m afraid.

      Please make sure you wash your hands a LOT, and try inhaling the steam through your nose that I mentioned in one of yesterday’s posts. It can’t hurt.

      Stay in touch. I’m afraid that one of these days we will be seeing a post from someone who has it, describing their quarantined reality. I hope it doesn’t get any worse than that

      Liked by 1 person

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