1. I spent much of the morning in the Vizio room. Until Gibbs gets a little older, we are keeping the bedroom, Vizio room, and bathroom doors closed. For now, we want Gibbs to spend his time in the living room and kitchen only, especially as he continues to learn that the outdoors is the place to do his business.
As I was reading, I thought a lot about when I contracted bacterial meningitis in early November of 1999 and its long term effects on my mental and physical health. As you probably know, "morbidity" is the word used when talking about the condition of being diseased. Ever since November, 1999, I have been living in state of morbidity. For at least a year, but maybe longer, after being hospitalized and released, I was prone to bouts of fatigue. For at least ten years, I suffered bouts of depression accompanied by mood swings and more fatigue. On at least one occasion, the weight of depression kept me home from work for days and I could hardly move, could hardly get out of bed. I also live with chronic kidney disease which was discovered after I contracted meningitis and might be a result of my illness.
My morbidity was on my mind this morning because I read an article online in The Atlantic this morning entitled "COVID-19 Can Last For Several Months". The article told the story of people who are called "long haulers", people who didn't die from COVID-19, but who didn't (and haven't) recovered from the disease. The article affected me in two ways: first, it reinforced the fact that this is a novel disease and we really don't know much about it yet -- and we can't know what its long term effects are going to be nor do we know whether, once in a person, it might reassert itself at a later date after patients think they have recovered and are clear of its impact; second, I thought more about the morbidity of COVID-19. It's apparent from this article and its reporting about the number of long haulers suffering from COVID-19 for months, that surviving the disease doesn't mean that soon it will go away. Anyone, no matter their age, no matter their current state of health, runs some risk of long term morbidity and incapacitation, should they contract this virus.
If this article sounds interesting to you, it's here.
Often, when people post links to articles like this one, others accuse them of fear-mongering.
I hope, if you are reading this, that you'll give me the benefit of the doubt.
I'm not interested in scaring anyone. I'm trying to learn what's going on. I found this article informative and appreciate how it enlarged my understanding of the many different ways this virus affects those who contract it.
2. Debbie and I liked the fact that the weather on this 4th of July was mild and that we could sit out on the deck and enjoy the homemade tortilla chips Debbie made and the dip them into Debbie's homemade hummus and guacamole. For our main course, we repeated our enjoyment of a meal we ate a few days ago: pasta covered with Debbie's arugula pesto.
3. Every year we've been together, Debbie and I have lived with animals. Every year we dread the celebration of Independence Day with fireworks. We've had animals who were shaken by the noise and others who endured the racket pretty well.
Our question: how will Gibbs respond?
Some of our neighbors set off some pre-4th of July fireworks the last couple of nights.
Gibbs seemed fine.
But, tonight, we expected fireworks to be set off from all directions of the compass and we knew that a display was going to be given over at the Silver Mountain resort.
As the sun dipped out of sight, the cracking, booming, and popping of fireworks got going. Some were very close to us, seemingly bursting right over Christy and Everett's house. Others were farther away and the resort fireworks were fairly close.
For the most part, Gibbs was unfazed by the whistling, hissing, buzzing, and booming sounds of freedom nor by the rotten egg sulfurous odors of independence.
Once or twice, some of the noise startled him, but we are relieved that he didn't quiver, run madly around the house, try to escape, cry, or hide somewhere.
He mostly slept, woke up and stretched, look quizzically about, and got through the evening unscarred.
On July 5, 1810, P. T. Barnum was born. Stu commemorates his birthday with this limerick:
I guess there’s a show starring fleas.
But prefer elephants and trapeze.
With three rings and a tent,
That’s entertainment.
He designed it to thrill and to please.
No comments:
Post a Comment