461) Missing an Anniversary in a World of Worry

March 11, 2020
Wednesday

Shayna texted a little while ago: "happy belated birthday to Mordecai! 💕"  I realized we had missed it again (It's March 9th).  And it is no wonder, with all the other world news that is crowding everything out.  We with immunosuppressed systems (and our friends with immune-deficient systems) fit that category of folks who better watch carefully or we might just lose the benefits our modern world with state-of-the-art medicine has accustomed us to. 

I, for one, worried excessively about going to the university to be part of hosting a webinar for social workers in China because of the warnings coming out about my particular group's mortality rate given the new COVID-19 epidemic.  Watch out if you are:

1. Adults over 70
2. Serious long-term health issues (Transplant, Liver disease, Heart issues, HHT, etc)
3. Compromised immune systems
4. Shortness of breathe
5. Avoid crowds

For us the CDC recommends just staying home.  For the most part I am happy to stay home.  I will only worry about others coming into my home and infecting me! And, of course as soon as the CDS recommend that us old folks "stay home", the Trump Administration overrules the CDC recommendations.

The upshot from Jack's Brain

Since my liver issues have been crowding out my old favorite kidney issues (last year especially) and with little real detailed information and trust (like I used to easily have with Dr. Richard Lewis) I have been thinking more about how one leaves this life and the usually comforting consciousness we have about our daily experiences here on the planet.

When I imagine the narrative of departing this reality~life~plane~world~existence I conjure up scenes of softness with those I love by my side as I slip away peacefully.  Of course, thinking about succumbing to the Coronavirus is much more appalling. The sick patient is covered with plastic so as to not infect any hospital staff or relatives.  There are tubes up both nostrils, a resuscitator in the mouth and no ability or opportunity for last goodbyes with family aside from the blurry view through three layers of latex.

The dying patient is alone, choking, and unable to communicate.  Sounds horrible to me. 
Hopefully I will be one of the old farts who dodges the virus and is able to have the kind of slipping away that is planned for and mercifully accepted, like slipping out of the party when one has had enough.