Pat Bertram's Blog, page 100

Wishing You the Joy of This Day

Despite the predominately religious meanings of this time of year, such as Easter and Passover, there is a more personal spiritual meaning — that no matter how down (or up!) we are, we can find a renewal, a liberation, a breaking open of the constraints that bind us so we can burst forth into a new day, a new way of being.

I’m not really doing anything special with this new day, not actively trying to find any sort of renewal, but we are all being herded into a new way of being, whether we want it or not. Since I am a conspiracy novelist who has already written about a pandemic and the ramifications of a novel disease, I tend to see the coming political and financial fallout of this situation, but other people see this crisis in a more spiritual sense. They see an awakening, a renewal.

We are being forced to see what is really important in our lives, not just because of paring our lives down to the basics, but also because of what we are missing. For some people, that could be a good meal in a restaurant or a shopping spree. For others, it’s get togethers with family and friends.

It would be nice to think that those who see renewal in this time of house arrest are right, and that the world is on the brink of enlightenment or resurrection. Of course, each person’s definition of enlightenment is different, so chances are we will be right back where we started with everyone insisting their way is the correct one and vilifying everyone who does not agree.

Still, for now, it’s good to enjoy the moments, even the moments of doing nothing but staying safe. I also enjoy those moments when I am doing something, of course, but when I am not doing “nothing,” the enjoyment is sort of a tagalong feeling to whatever it is I am doing — walking, reading, playing on the computer — rather than enjoyment as a separate entity.

I so often feel a push for more — to walk more miles, to write more and better, to get stronger, healthier, wiser — that it’s good once in a while to burst out of the winding cloths I’ve wrapped myself in, and step out into the joy of being.

I’m overdoing the  resurrection metaphor a bit, but so what?

It’s a new day. And today I can do whatever I want. Be wh0ever I want. Well, in my own mind at least. There is still the matter of a body that doesn’t want to cooperate and a crisis that is keeping us virtual prisoners, but those are matters for another time.

Today is a time of thinking of new possibilities, of being in the moment, of staying safe.

Wishing you the joy of this day.

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Unfinished, Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

A Single Blossom

I am not one who thrives on controversy. I just want to go along to get along, which is why I steer clear of hot issues such as politics or religion. Unfortunately, every once in a while I say something in a blog that hits people wrong, and I end up getting censured for something that was nothing more than an offhand remark.

Because the current situation continues to bewilder me — the repercussions, the ramifications, the lies and erroneous projections that were used to cause irreparable harm to so many people — I’ve been voicing my concerns. I haven’t meant to offend anyone with my comments and questions and half-facetious remarks. I’ve just been trying to sort through all the conflicting information we’re presented with, to mention the concerns I have, and to write of the things I have been thinking about. I’ve come to no conclusions, have no strong opinions. I’m simply . . . wondering.

The comments left here on this blog have been thoughtful and show an understanding of my dilemma, but those left elsewhere have been hurtful, so I’m eschewing the whole matter today and going with a topic that no one can chastise me for.

Tulips.

So far, only a single tulip has bloomed in my yard, but what a beauty!

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Although a whole field of tulips can be dramatic, It doesn’t take huge numbers to make an impact. A single blossom can be just as beautiful and important and meaningful.

Which is good, considering all I have at the moment is this one flower.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

 

The Sorrow, Stress, and Solitariness of Grief

A friend asked me how long it took me not to cry every day after Jeff died. My first response was “months” because I didn’t want to freak her out with how long grief lasts, but when I realized that it was better to be forewarned, I told her the truth.

I don’t remember when I stopped crying every day, but I know it went on for years. In a way, it’s not as bad as it sounds. At the beginning I cried almost all the time, but as the months passed, even though I still cried every day, it was not as long or as often. Even years after Jeff died, I was still tearing up almost every day — not really crying, but not not-crying, either. Sometimes the tears came from missing him or loneliness or exhaustion or being around those who were still happily married. Other times, something happened to cause the upsurge of grief: a smell, a memory, something I read or saw.

Now, months go by without a tear, but then, I am not a new widow. I am used to his being gone, used to being alone, used to the void that remains somewhere deep inside.

Not everyone has that deep well of tears, but enough of us do that I know tears are a normal part of dealing with such a devastating loss. Losing a life mate ranks at the very top of stressful situations. On a scale of 1 to 100, the loss of a life mate or child tops all at 100. Divorce, the second worse stressor is 73.

Sorrow. Stress. Solitariness. Any one of those makes for a very rough time, but when they all come at once, as they do when one has suffered a profound loss, they create a near-impossible situation. No wonder tears are such a common occurrence after the loss of a spouse or soul mate or life mate.

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Although none of us like to cry, and although we perceive tears to be a sign of weakness, tears are necessary to help us relieve the incredible stress of grief. What adds to an already stressful situation (not the least being that the one person we need to help us through our loss is the very person we are mourning) is the sporadic and chaotic nature of grief. We can be doing fine — fine meaning not tearful — when suddenly, we are overtaken by grief. When that bout of sorrow is over, we think we have a grip, and then we’re hit again with the realization of our loss, and there we are, back at the beginning.

Unsettled times such as this current world-wide crisis, as well as the enforced isolation, can make grief even worse since there is nothing to do to take one’s mind off the pain, nowhere to run to for a moment of solace.

But there are always tears. At the beginning, crying seemed to make me feel worse, but as time went by and I realized that there were worst things than crying — such as suffering the physical and mental effects of stress — I came to appreciate the relief. Later, I came to welcome any tears because they seemed to bridge the gap and make me feel closer to him, and if not to him, then to my grief.

And if there are no tears to relieve the sorrow, stress, and solitariness of grief? Then you can try screaming. That works, too.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

A Single Death

[image error]Every day we are subjected to the current count of how many people have died from the disease du jour, and yet, what’s the point except to keep a tally? Does anyone really care? As of last night, 193 people have died in Colorado from The Bob, but people have died from other things, too. Don’t those deaths count? Even a single death diminishes us, so what difference does it make if one person died or a hundred or a thousand? It matters, of course, to the loved ones remaining behind, and perhaps even to the one who is gone, but why do the rest of us care about the number of people who have died of this disease? We certainly don’t care about the vast numbers of people who die from heart disease or cancer or traffic accidents. So why this? Why now?

Could it be that we are only concerned about ourselves and how close the disease is to us? Or do we simply care about the logistics? We are constantly being told about the lack of equipment (though a few experts think the very lack of respirators is keeping some people alive — there is evidence that the respirators in some cases are hastening the end of vulnerable patients). And we are constantly being warned about the necessity of “flattening the curve” to keep from overwhelming the system (even though some epidemiologists think we are merely prolonging the life of The Bob). So is that what we care about?

Unless we personally know someone who has the virus or have lost someone to the virus, or unless a celebrity has died, we don’t know enough to care about anyone who is suffering. (Though why anyone would care about a celebrity mystifies me, since the deaths of unknowns are tragic, too, but discussing that is too much of a digression even for this blog.)

So what difference does it make how many have died from this particular disease?

Yes, I know, it is tragic that people are dying, but people are dying from other things, and that is tragic, too. A friend recently lost her husband. Except for those of us who knew her (or her husband) no one in the world cares. But if we care about those who die from The Bob, shouldn’t we all care about him, too?

Another friend is going through chemo. That’s every bit as dangerous and life-threatening as the vulnerable folks who get The Bob, and a lot more dangerous than the less vulnerable, since most cases aren’t much worse than a bout of the flu. Chemo is certainly more dangerous than those who have the virus with no outward show of symptoms. So shouldn’t we all care about the woman going through chemo, too?

Why discriminate on the basis of disease? We can care about this disease but no other? So what do we really care about?

That this disease is spreading faster than other diseases at the moment? It’s still not worth the draconian measures being taken to stop the spread. And is it really spreading that rapidly? If so, why are not all the “essential” employees dying? Why aren’t the “essential” stores closing because all their employees are sick?

New studies show that the cities that are the hardest hit are the cities with Chinatowns and high Asian populations. If that’s true, instead of quarantining the rest of the country, why not simply quarantine those neighborhoods? Oh, but you can’t. It’s racist. So, to protect the sensibilities of one community, we have to impose harsh punishments on all of us. (That staying at home and sheltering in place and only shopping for necessities is not a hardship for me do not make such stringent measures any less harsh.)

I keep saying that the measures being taken to flatten that mythical curve (and it is a myth — a projection — and so far, most projections pertaining to this disease have been wrong) don’t affect me, but obviously, I am wrong. Being housebound is giving me way too much time to think! And I have an overactive “thinker” to begin with.

But still, someone has to think about these things. Someone has to care about those dying from diseases other than the disease of the day. Someone has to look beyond the numbers and see the tragedy in even a single death.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Viruses and the Human Organism

By now it shouldn’t come as any surprise that I have reservations about this whole quarantine situation. There are just too many repercussions that are being ignored, such as people who are in lockdown with their abusers and no way to escape, or rich people who are fleeing infested cities and bringing diseases to places that would normally be safe.

Another repercussion that few people are discussing is what will happen when people are once more free to mingle. Unless there were a significant number of cases of people who got The Bob and recovered (and no, there aren’t such cases because there simply is not a great enough percentage of people who are getting sick), there is still a chance of a second upsurge. Some epidemiologists say that flattening the curve will prolong the disease, but so far, no one is saying what will happen when people are again doing “nonessential” activities, such as getting together with family and friends.

Another thing that no one is talking about is the danger of isolating people.

Viruses are everywhere, in fact, they are perhaps the most common being on earth. There are an estimated 10 nonillion of them (10 to the 31st power.) Without viruses and their ability to move genetic material from one cell to another, life on Earth might never have evolved. Among those nonillions of viruses, only a small fraction, way less than 1%, are dangerous to humans. Most seem rather benign. Others are actually beneficial, and help our immune system. For example, some viruses infect and destroy dangerous bacteria in our bodies. Other viruses protect against harmful viruses. Some have actually become part of the human genome.

Even harmful viruses are good in that viral infections, especially at a young age, help develop the immune system. If children are prevented from getting sick, they are much more vulnerable to disease as they grow older.

It is the benign viruses that move from person to person, exchanging cell materials between people who are close, such as husband and wife, that makes grief for a spouse so hard. Not only does it feel as if we have been severed from our other half, we have, in actuality, been severed. Because of the visceral nature of grief, three to four years seems to be the half-life of grief. Our cells are continuously dying and being renewed. If it takes seven years for all the cells in one’s body to be renewed, then at two years, most of our cells still bear the imprint of our deceased mate. At four years, less than half our cells bear their imprint. At seven years, we are solely ourselves.

Viral exchanges are a way of communication, body to body. It’s a way of keeping a community unified and healthy. You don’t always have to get sick to become immune to a disease — if someone close to you is immune, their immunity can be conferred on you via benign viruses. If you stop viral communication, what will happen? I don’t know. No one knows, though it’s possible that when people are allowed out among others again, not just The Bob will have an upsurge, but so will other diseases.

Although no one asked me, I would have suggested protecting the vulnerable and letting everyone else lead their lives. Some people would have gotten sick, but for most people, The Bob is relatively benign, no more than a cold, if that. Many people who are infected, show no symptoms at all.

The human aggregate is an organism. Are we damaging the organism by these draconian measures? Probably not, since the lockdowns won’t be that long, all things considered, but if it went on too long, groups who developed immunities to certain ailments could infect others who haven’t developed such immunities.

It’s hard finding out the truth in this time of “fake news” since any idea or research that goes against or beyond the party line are labeled fake, when in fact, what we are told is “truth” might be less than true.

Still, I can’t help but wonder if there would have been a better solution to this situation than by isolating everyone, not just the vulnerable.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Easter Present!

I got an Easter gift today. Can you guess what it is?

Easter basket?

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Bunny?

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Flowers?

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Nope. None of those. Here’s a hint:

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Awww. You guessed it! Toilet paper. Who would have ever thought there would come a time that toilet paper not only would be a welcome gift, but a valuable one, too.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Essential

There are some words being bandied about lately that I am getting tired of hearing. Like “essential.” They tell us that only “essential” businesses are allowed open, but some of those essential businesses are not essential to all of us. Like liquor stores or recreational pot shops.

We’re also told only to go out to do essential errands, and to buy only essential items. Despite these constant warnings, I still pretty much live the way I always do because I always only do essential errands, always only buy essential items. When one lives as austere a life as I do, when everything has been pared down to the basics, everything is essential. For example, today I went out and bought groceries. It is essential that I drive once a week to keep my ancient bug going, and today was the day, so went and got a few dollars’ worth of gas, which was essential so that I could get to the store where I bought such essential items as fruits, vegetables, as well as a bit of meat and cheese.

Essential.

Some things are essential for good mental health, such as being with friends (even for those of us with hermit tendencies), but oh, no — that sort of essential thing is not allowed.

So, apparently, some essential things are not essential, and some non-essentials are essential. What a fiasco.

Another term I’m getting tired of is “social distancing.” It’s not the act that bothers me, but the term. In fact, I always prefer strangers — and sometimes even non-strangers — to keep their distance.

Today, when I entered the store, a young woman and her small daughter were nearing the entrance about the same time I was. Since she wasn’t stopping her forward rush, I paused six feet way from them so she could go on, but then she stopped and told me to go ahead. So I did. But instead of waiting until I was inside, both she and her daughter crowded me and went through at the same time. What was the point of that? Even if we weren’t dealing with the current regulations, it would have been rude.

Luckily, I won’t have to deal with such things for another week when it is again time to drive and get my “essential” errands done.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

The Highs and Lows of Body Temperature

[image error]Three years ago, when I destroyed my left arm, a health worker came to see me a couple of times a week to help with things I couldn’t do myself (which was pretty much everything). Before we got down to the important things such as showering or opening bottles and jars or replacing the child-proof lids of my pain pills with ones I could open one-handed, she always took my vital signs.

The first time she took my temperature, we both stared at the number in shock. 91.9˚. That is absolutely not possible. A body temperature that low would mean I was dead. So she shook down the thermometer and tried again. Same thing. Thinking the thermometer was malfunctioning, she replaced the mouthpiece and took her own temperature, which was normal. Then mine again. Same abnormal reading.

The next day she brought a new thermometer, and the reading was slightly higher. 92 or 93, something like that. We finally shrugged it off. I wasn’t cold, was doing well considering I had a pulverized wrist, a fake elbow, a wrenched shoulder, perhaps twenty-five breaks in all told in my forearm, and was drugged to my gills.

Over the next weeks, my temperature climbed to a sizzling 95˚. And there it stayed for a while, though I think by the time she moved to a better job (in part because of the way the company treated me, though that is a different story), my temperature occasionally clocked in at 96˚.

I’ve always had a very slow metabolism (yes, I know — people who are overweight always blame their metabolism, but sometimes it is true) and so we thought my moribund metabolism could be the reason for the low number. (Or vice versa.) Since I seemed to have no problems because of it, we decided not to worry. And, apparently, such a low temperature is not that rare because when I went to the doctor for more surgery and then follow-up appointments, no one commented, probably because by that time they could see that it was my normal temperature.

I think about this every time I hear about people having their temperatures taken before they are allowed to see doctors or go to work. With a low body temperature, a person can have a fever and still test as normal, so a normal temperature is no indication that a person is clear of infection. (And then, there’s the whole no symptoms — including fever — for fourteen days thing, which really makes temperature an inaccurate viral test.)

I might have a thermometer around here somewhere, and I considered taking my temperature out of curiosity, but decided it wouldn’t prove anything. I’m alive and relatively healthy and no number is going to change that.

Besides, since I see almost no one (except a friend at the store yesterday, and we stayed the requisite six feet apart), my temperature is not an issue.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

There’s Always Something

The ornamental pear trees are in full bloom; consequently, so are my allergies. And oh, this is so not the time to have to deal with allergies. Even though there is zero chance that I have The Bob, I have to be especially careful to stay away from people because they don’t know my dry cough and difficulty breathing are from stuffed sinuses and not a virus.

Even worse from my standpoint is that the Colorado governor has asked everyone to wear masks, and anything covering my nose and mouth makes it even that much more difficult to breathe. Yep — so not the time to have to deal with allergies! If it becomes mandatory to wear a mask, I’ll use it f[image error]or the few minutes I’m inside a store or around people, but other than that, it’s not feasible.

A list of what one can and cannot do during this time is circulating around the internet, and it says you’re not supposed to let anyone in your house — not parents, grandparents, children, grandchildren, best friends. No one. And yet, that’s patently absurd. My toilet quit working, and since I can’t fix it myself, I had to have someone come into my house, which was a good thing. It turned out that the wax ring wasn’t the problem as we had surmised; instead, the whole flange was corroded, so much so that it was difficult for the bolts to be removed. It was also a job for two people. Certainly not a job for one woman who hadn’t a clue what she was doing.

Since these same two fellows were the very last people I’d seen, it didn’t worry me. If they had infected me, then I would be merely returning the favor.

But, as I said, there is zero chance of my having The Bob. Unless the conspiracy theorists are correct that the virus isn’t a virus but the body’s reaction to the new 5G network, there is no way for me to get it. No one in the county has it, and I haven’t been to any counties that do. And even if people here had it, I am hermitting, and haven’t seen anyone. Except for the people who fixed my toilet, of course.

I see photos of empty streets because of people being in lockdown, but that isn’t true here. Since people are allowed out to exercise, I frequently see small groups of people out walking their dogs or simply just walking. In fact, I see more people now out walking than I did before all this started. So, while other people are hoping this is all over soon so that they can be less alone, I am hoping it’s over soon so I can be more alone!

Still, whether people want to be around folks again or to see less of them, we’re all getting a little antsy. In my case, it’s still the knee more than anything else. I’m healed enough to walk now; I just can’t walk very far yet. But that will come.

Meantime, I have allergies to deal with.

There’s always something, isn’t there? I hope your “somethings” is as minor as mine are.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

More Repercussions

I find it amusing that Kansas is restricting travel from Colorado and quarantining those who do cross the border. Not that there is anything intrinsically amusing about this, it’s that the Colorado-Kansas border figured prominently in my novel A Spark of Heavenly Fire. The book features a terrible disease called The Red Death by those in Colorado and the Colorado Flu by those outside the state where it originated. Although the entire state of Colorado is quarantined and the border patrolled by various means, occasionally someone does slip across the border only to be met by a “welcoming” group of Kansas carrying guns, hoes, and anything else to ward off the trespasser.

Apparently, Kansas today has not yet reached that level of hostility — the travel ban is still just a bureaucratic decree rather than a grass roots action.

I don’t believe in legislating everything, at least I didn’t until this whole mess. Maybe people really are ignorant enough not to know to wash their hands when coming in contact with potential disease carriers. Maybe people don’t know enough to stay away from others if possible during a time of illness. Apparently, some people are so utterly and bizarrely oblivious to any sense of self-preservation as to hold “corona parties,” stuffing as many people as possible into small areas.

If so, apparently, the bureaucracies — the nanny state — really does need to get involved to instill some common sense into those who have none. (And to protect their own careers, of course. If some states enact these measures, then others will follow suit for the simple reason that if they don’t, people will think they aren’t doing anything.)

Yesterday I wrote of repercussions beyond the financial fallout, but potential abuse is only one additional problem. Another problem that is developing is that people who have money and can escape the cities where the disease is most concentrated are ignoring the stay-at-home directives, and treating this hiatus of business as a vacation, and heading to vacation towns and rural areas. Hence, The Bob is hitting where it normally wouldn’t, because those with enough money to travel are carrying the virus with them like deadly luggage.

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I suppose those with second homes think that by heading to the smaller towns where these houses are located, they are staying at home, but not all those who are heading to the hills are heading “home.” A rising problem is that these seasonal areas are not equipped to deal with an influx of people at off-season times. Hospitals are tiny, grocery stores are having enough trouble keeping food and essential items for the locals, and utilities are being strained beyond capacity.

So yes, it does seem as if draconian orders are needed to keep people from spreading disease.

It’s a shame, but the people who should be ashamed, apparently have no shame, and so the repercussions of this crisis will continue long after the virus has been tamed.

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[image error]Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.