OMG

OMG, I hate rollercoaster rides.  While I can tolerate the majority of coasters, I know they only last minutes and promise to return you to where you got on, safely! The current rollercoaster we are on is miserable and promises to last months.

How any of us are going to stay sane is beyond me.  My emotions are all over the place. Right now, I’m happy and content.  Today is my 42^nd anniversary and I’m home with my bride of many years.  We feasted on steamed Maryland crabs, Facetimed with our children and grandchildren and got literally 100s of good wishes from friends and patients.

In a few minutes, I’ll crash into depression and abject fear.  This virus is blowing my mind.  I worry about my patients and am sad I’m not there to care for them.  I worry about my colleagues: doctors, nurses, clerks, lab techs, x-ray techs, etc.  They are on the front line and, if you believe the news, are running out of protective gear and flying by the seat of their pants.

I’m worried about my children and grandchildren who will inherit the current disaster’s aftermath.  I’m worried about financing my retirement with the market collapse and being stuck with two homes.  OMG, no one is going to tour a stranger’s house with the current virus lurking behind every corner, waiting to get you.

I have mixed feelings about not being able to practice medicine.  If I was physically able, I’d be volunteering my services at the local hospitals.  Working as a doc would put my family and me at risk but it’s what I trained for.  On the other hand, I’m actually glad that I can’t work and therefore will not run into the fire.  

All of this rambling would sound ridiculous to a sane person.  Since most of you are on the same ride I’m on, I’m sure you understand.  How do we survive this upheaval?  One thing is to look at it as being at war.  Isolating ourselves is like going into a bomb shelter and waiting out the bombardment.  To fight off the fear, be assured that the best medical minds in the world are looking for treatment options and vaccines.  They will find them, and the war will end.  Until then, hug your loved ones and keep them close.  If you are hording N95 masks, donate them to the docs in your local hospital.  If you are hording toilet paper, shame on you.  Some of us are running low and that’s just one more “mess” to contend with.

While I’m cycling through emotions, I end up madder than hell.  We’ll find a vaccine and prevent future outbreaks.  Won’t we?  I’m mad because I know the anti-vaccine lobby will fight being vaccinated and serve as fertile ground for this and other diseases, new and old, to attack us.  What a pity!

Time to be happy again.  Renee, let’s play hide and seek.  You go hide and I’ll find you and . . .  Aren’t you glad you are trapped in the house with me? What else can we play?