I would be lying if I did not say that the last couple weeks has triggered some pretty deep PTSD for me.
And so maybe some posts might be hard to read. But if you know me, you know that I put more to paper sometimes than I put to voice. I will tell you I’m fine but pour my heart out in a blog.
This is my safe space.
And so I will tell you.
I am so sad.
I am so fucking sad.
I am sad about the blame. I am sad about the denial. I am sad that the leaders in our great nation, a country that I love, have to gaslight and bolster and pontificate.
We would prefer honesty.
Because we know.
We know that our ICU beds can only accommodate 2 per 1,000 people. We know how many ventilators are available. We know how many people can get a COVID-19 test.
Don’t pee on my head and tell me it’s raining.
Not when it comes to my health. Not when it comes to my safety or the safety of my loves.
It is easy to dismiss medical mishaps as some else’s issue. But when we do, we forget who we leave behind.
When our son was born still at 41 weeks, we were discharged the next day with a pamphlet on grief. It was a lovely trifold in glossy paper but somehow…….
That tri-fold brochure on grief did not ease my pain.
One doctor called a week later. Not my primary doctor. But a doctor I remember and will admire for the rest of my life.
He asked how I was doing.
I said this was really hard. Harder than I ever thought was possible.
And he apologized.
He said in a litigious world, no one ever wants to say they are sorry. But that he really was. And he thought about Hubs and I often.
Ah. To take responsibility. It might not have been his. But as a doctor, in his practice, he took it.
Imagine. As a leader
I think about that honest conversation when I have to make really hard conversations. It compels me to pick up the phone.
I wish we could stop denying what was happening and what has happened in the last month. I wish we had a leader who would let us talk about our fears without attack. Because even if you side with our President or not, you still might be nervous, or disappointed. It would be nice it we could meet six feet across from each other and talk about this.
Because lives are at stake.
And lives cannot be returned once they are gone.
And if we cannot bank that as currency, I’m not sure where we go from here.