To those who have coronavirus confusion,
Like many, I am scared and decided to follow suit, adjusting my life plans accordingly.
Packed and ready to go, I canceled my trip to New York, where I was supposed to speak to nearly a dozen high schools and colleges about how I found my strength.
It was an opportunity I was looking forward to for months.
I texted my brother, who encouraged me to be safe and stay in Miami, “This sucks.”
He responded with a nice dose of reality, “Imagine how the people who are sick or lost someone they love feel.”
The coronavirus has taken the country by storm, as it dominates headlines across the world. Now, I am home desperately searching for hand sanitizer as I obsessively scour the internet for more information on the virus. Some outlets forewarn of the dangers of the disease. Other news sources call it a lot of “hype” and a “political football.” With conflicting perspectives and little knowledge and or treatments for the virus, most of us are left agonizing over basic decisions.
Should I travel?
Should I go to work?
Should I avoid public spaces?
I am home desperately searching for hand sanitizer as I obsessively scour the internet for more information on the virus.
While I am scared, mostly for my 60-plus aged parents, I also feel a sense of confusion. According to the CDC’s 2019-2020 U.S. Flu Season: Preliminary Burden Estimates from October 1, 2019, to February 29, 2020, 34-49 million people have had the flu and 20,000 to 52,000 people have died from it. According to CNN, worldwide, more than 100,000 people have had the coronavirus, with more than 4,000 people dying from it.
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And the New York Times states that 80 percent of confirmed coronavirus cases are not severe,
The numbers for the coronavirus don’t justify my fear, but they also don’t seem to lessen it either. That’s because there is no consensus on how those numbers will unravel as the disease spreads, how our healthcare system will respond, or what the options are for the people who do end up in critical condition.
Then, there are also the tremendous economic repercussions.
The world’s uneasiness, along with my own, is a reminder that often what we fear is what we do not know.
I hope everyone stays safe and healthy.
Thank you to all the medical professionals helping save lives and prayers to all the families affected by the coronavirus.
Lauren, like you I have to balance my fear and confusion. I work directly with the public and I have an immune system that is partially suppressed as a by product of treatment for Rheumatoid Arthritis. I fear for my Father the most as his body is much weaker than even mine. I visited the Cleveland Museum of Art on Sunday just to learn three people were positively diagnosed on Monday in Cuyahoga county. You aren’t alone in that fear. I think that we must turn to hope to keep us in this trying time. We have to…
Great discussion, as well as some interesting numbers which I’m not sure are meant to calm us, or install even more fear. I have many of your same concerns. Just yesterday I scheduled a work trip to Miami for late next week, but am unsure if it will happen or not. And while i say or act like i’m not concerned, sub-consciously, i am quite sure it is weighing on my mind each time i cough, or sneeze, or feel “a little warm”, or if someone around me does. One of the biggest fears i have is that with all of the media coverage and the additional testing becoming available, the numbers are sure to skyrocket, and this is going to really set some people off. Our country is going to go absolutely bonkers . We are all guilty of taking limited amounts of information and either talking about it like an expert, or completely overreacting.
Here’s hoping that the number stat to level out, and then drop. Lets hope that the American people can follow simple suggestions. Lets hope that countries from around the world can work together to come up with a viable plan to slow this train down. And last but not least, lets hope our politicians can come together to provide our country guidance as we all try to get through this. Lets hope they can forget about the presidential race for just a minute to remember what their job really is; to serve the American people. And now is their time to really step up and lead by example.
This is trying to scare us with more misinformation then actual information but thank you for giving us your reality. I like it a lot.and people just wash your hand like you should be doing anyway 😂
I have learned over my Fifty-Eight years of life, and more specifically over the last 10 that FDR’s words about fearing only fear itself ring true; to me, they do, anyway. And, at the same time, how the words of the 23rd Psalm comfort me and my abundant faith in G-d allows me to fear only fear, knowing full well that He is always with me.
Growing up in a Non-Orthodox, yet Observant Jewish family nicely brings both together and not only makes me feel more protected but commands me to believe so.
You see, I have lived a different kind of life, as we all have to some degree, but mine changes daily. Not that I am ANY BETTER than anyone else, in fact, probably less so… I stray from my stories often. I shouldn’t, but since my Stroke in 2012, I have somehow developed some sort of ADD, so please bear with me, the end will justify the means and I will *try* to stick with my story; for you, my readers.
I moved my family of the ex-wife and four children Cross-Country in 2002 to be closer to my dad who was turning 75 that year, and while I could not afford both financially as well as mentally to move back to Southern California (where he and my mother lived), I chose the Midbar (Hebrew for Desert) of Arizona. Within just a few short weeks of moving here, I woke up one day with some of the most severe abdominal pain I had ever experienced. I found a local doctor and made an appointment to see him that day. I arrived at the appointment and was ushered into an examination room by their PA (Physician’s Assistant), who is supposed to be the same as a Doctor, but not really (?). I was examined and Prescriptions for a Pain Medication and an Antibiotic. They continued to treat me in a like manner for almost six months when I ended up in an Emergency Room, where a CT Scan was performed and Colonoscopy was scheduled. I was then diagnosed with a grapefruit-sized obstruction and abscess in my colon that would require surgical intervention. Surgery was scheduled for two days later, on a Friday in Mid-March 2003.
I arrived at the hospital at the designated time, 5:45 am; was admitted to the hospital; told them about ALL my allergies (including a BIG ONE, an allergy to a particular anesthetic agent), and taken to a room where I was put into one of those awful gowns and told that they’d be “right back” to take me to surgery. They promptly came back at 10:30 in the morning and took me to yet another room… to wait some more.
At 11:45 the Anesthesiologist came in to talk with me. He informed me that he was going to use Propofol for my induction and that he was planning on using the EXACT ANESTHESIA TO WHICH I AM ALLERGIC to maintain me through surgery! “NOT ON ME, YOU’RE NOT”, I exclaimed! “I’M ALLERGIC!!!” On my wrist sat a red band that clearly said ALLERGIES: CEVOFLURAINE. I then proceeded to give him a list of anesthetic agents that
I knew to be safe. He tapped me on the knee and said: Okay, Smart guy, put yourself to sleep and quickly left the room. I awoke from the anesthesia on the following Wednesday evening.
In addition to the NINE small incisions from various attempts to perform the procedure of removing 18″ of my diseased colon through a scope, I also had one 6″ cut in my belly that began around my navel and continued to just above my groin. I also began experiencing severe shortness of breath. The staples were ripped out of my skin by the Butcher Surgeon two weeks later, but my breathing difficulties continued.
After being examined by one doctor after another, I finally decided to be examined by The Mayo Clinic. Over a ten-day to 2 week period, I was examined by multiple physicians, underwent numerous tests and procedures and was finally ready for my Report Appointment. I would learn the results of all of the tests and procedures and hopefully have a clear diagnosis and prognosis. The verdict had come in.
Diagnosis: Terminal COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease
Causation: Bacterial Pneumonia due to Malignant Hyperthermia caused by induction of Detrimental Anesthesia
Prognosis: 5% chance of Five-Year Survival
I then took my report to a highly regarded Pulmonologist for Follow-Up Care, but not before enrolling in Rabbinical School in New York City. I had, (since age ten) always wanted to be a Rabbi. It was now or never.
On the advice of the Pulmonologist, I began taking Prednisone (a Steroid) that would open up my Bronchioles and make it easier to breathe. The normal dosage for a man who is 5’9″ and weighs 150 pounds (before I got sick, I weighed 174 pounds, all muscle, by the way) is <100mg per day. My STARTING dose was 100mg THREE TIMES a DAY. the dosage was increased every few months for the following THREE YEARS, when, on Sunday, September 9, 2007, at the weight of 340 Pounds (the Steroids had been increased to 250mg Four Times a day), I collapsed and at Mayo Hospital, was intubated where my organs began failing. Two nights later, on the First Night of Rosh haShana, the Jewish New Year, and while being mechanically ventilated, I went into Full Blown Total System Failure, and suffered a Cardiac Arrest for 14 minutes, followed by a Coma of several weeks duration.
During my Coma, I felt as if I was in a box. The box had four dirt walls and smelled like the Morning Dew. In the upper right corner of the box sat a red square with a white X inside of it. "If only I could click on that X, I might stop this program", I thought to myself, but I could not move; I could not stand; could not reach, and could not scream for help. I lay in this place crying out in fear for what seemed like days and weeks and months. Suddenly, my cries were replaced by Psalms. I was reciting Psalms, some of which I had never even read before! And the Psalms turned into Prayers; The Kol Nidre, chanted at the beginning of our Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur; every other prayer recited on this Holy of all Holy Days; the Prayers for the Sukkot Holidays that follow the next week and the Readings for every single Torah Portion of the year. I somehow knew them all. By heart. Without hesitation of memory and obviously without any text to look at.
I kept reading and chanting day and night; night and day and resting in between. Really resting. Sleeping… until one day, I opened up my eyes to see my beautiful son Zac sitting at my side on my bed. Covering the holes in my throat and on the side of my neck, I managed to spit out "C'était le rêve de dix minutes le plus étrange que j'aie jamais eu"! I told my son that was the weirdest ten-minute dream that I have ever had in FRENCH, my first language and native tongue. He then told me that it had been over two months, and I was in a Hospice Facility. The night before, I had begun to breathe on my own a minute or so after being disconnected from the machines that had sustained my organs since September.
A few days later I was wheeled to an ambulance outside to be transported to the truly amazing HealthSouth Rehabilitation Hospital in Scottsdale. The sun kissed my face as I felt like I was pulled up into a body of love. It spoke. In Hebrew: Don't worry, it said. "You and I are going to be okay".
I spent the next six weeks learning to do things like eating and holding a pencil; how to shower and dress. I learned how to return to life.
Six weeks after leaving HealthSouth, my dad died.
In July 2018, my mom joined him.
I have had many trials and tribulations over these last twelve years. A Stroke in 2012 took my ability to project my voice loudly; I've been hospitalized many times and know how very precious time is.
I do not live for today, rather, I live for tomorrow. I do everything I can do today to help others, and pray that I am again awakened tomorrow to do more good. And if so, great! And if not; if G-d decides to take me tonight, I will hang out with my parents and loved ones forever. I win either way.
President Roosevelt was right to believe in only fearing fear. Psalm 23 is even more so, as Faith follows all of us.