Wary and Weary

Eight days into our lockdown limbo I’m finding it increasingly hard not to feel wary of going out into the world, and I’m becoming weary of the worrying uncertainty if it all.

Don’t get me wrong, under normal circumstances I truly love being at home, I’m definitely more of a home bird than a party animal, so but oh, how I miss that easy everyday human contact with other people! I understand it’s what we all have to do, how we all have to be for the time being, but personally what I’m finding hardest to cope with is the unfamiliar mass requirement to be alone hand in glove with the growing fear of the unknown, the unanswerable.

As a population we are so used to feeling an illusive level of control over our bodily health, there is almost an expectation of immunisation and treatment and subsequent survival from such infections, but what this new virus brings to the fore so dramatically is our absolute vulnerability. When we feel under threat, we usually want to feel close, to reach out and touch, to find comfort in the emotional and physical warmth of togetherness. We crave safety in numbers, in huddled family groups and tribal clusters, yet counter-intuitively, in current circumstances enforced isolation is our societal salvation.

OK, so satistics tell us that 80% of people with Covid-19 have relatively minor symptoms, with only 20% experiencing a far more serious threat to their health (including possible death). But as to who gets really sick, and more to the point who dies, that’s perhaps not as clear-cut as it first seemed. Age and underlying health conditions may give some indication of expected prognosis and anticipated mortality rates, but what about those growing fatalities far outwith those prescribed parameters? They may be few and far between, but they do exist – why does the virus seem to affect us all so differently? It feels scarily like the luck of the draw, entirely random, a matter of chance.

So my wariness to me feels justified, a natural measured response to a possible threat to life. If not to my life, then potentially to others. Make no mistake, this virus is a killer, and if collective short-term caution across the world can help reduce the long-term global death toll then we should all be prepared to do whatever we have to do to do our bit. Maybe everyone wants their 15 minutes of fame, but I for one could well do without going down in history as a modern-day equivalent of Typhoid Mary…

Weekly Prompts: Wary

11 thoughts on “Wary and Weary

  1. Ruth you have put into words so well and so cogently what I have been feeling and wanting to say but could not find the words. Thankyou. I wish I could write as well as you. I personally veer between feeling positive that if we remain isolated in our own homes and sterilise everything that comes in from the outside and not answer the door to anyone, then we should manage not to catch it. Not so for those who have to go out to the shops sommuch, but now, with social distancing and supermarkets only allowing a handful of people in at a time, things are much more controllable. But for me, sometimes I am able to logic it out this way, and other times I am just terrified to my core. It is a terrible time Ruth, but thank goodness we have each other in here, even though we cannot reach out and physically touch one another. We try to stay strong together. Much love Ruth.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. As I understand it – in many instances it depends from where or whom the virus was contracted. The virus takes a stronger hold on those with existing health problems and becomes more infectious and deadly. Take a patient with existing problems, he has contracted the virus and becomes seriously ill, he passes the virus to a doctor, the healthy doctor becomes ill.

    Another scenario where a young boy has mild symptoms and passes on to his father, his father has no underlying health problems and he becomes only mildly ill. If either of these two pass on to someone with an existing health problem the first example is repeated.

    I may have misinterpreted but I don’t think so.

    Hope your stir craziness lifts very soon.πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Reblogged this on THE MAIN AISLE (c) 2020 and commented:
    The name “Typhoid Mary” became synonymous with death and disease and fear almost as dire as Murphy’s cow and the Chicago fire of long ago. Short term inconvenience and caution and public awareness and acceptance of the new social practice will save lives . This is a good read. – gc

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Ruth, it’s great to get together collectively here in the blogosphere and share our insights into beating this virus as well as sharing the psychological load. It felt quite calming to read your post and like a bit of a chat we might have over the fence with a physical neighbour.
    I have no idea how long I’ve been in isolation for yet but it’s been a couple of weeks. It doesn’t really bother me because I’ve got the family at home and I’ve ot my writing and research and our dogs. I also have periods of time where I social isolate due to my health so I’m used to it and don’t get bored at all. However, what’s different with this is that stress of going near people and that this person you’re simply walking past, could be infected and in my case could very well kill me. I went for a walk down to the beach last weekend and instead of being my usual social extroverted self chatting to the dogwalkers and dogs and saying hello, I was like a social phobe and felt edging just seeing people and yet at the same time, it was so good to see real people again even, pr perhaps especially, at a distance. Here’s a link to a post I wrote a few weeks ago: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2020/03/23/tough-questions-about-self-isolation/
    Best wishes,
    Rowena

    Liked by 1 person

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