last night in a hot sweat, one of those nightmare moments 4:45 a.m. — at the darkest hour of one of our darkest days, in this, our darkest time. A friend of mine has recently been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness (that is a euphemism) and I was thinking about that person, and my own mortality, which is what happens at 4:45 a.m., in times like these. We know what it’s like now in the hospitals — we are reminded over and over, every day— staffs are overworked and underpaid, and they, understandably, fear getting COVID-19 themselves. They treat patients — any patients — as people who may infect them — understandably, like all of us, they are very afraid. It is after all, time to be very afraid. If you are dying, you will most likely be left to die alone. If you have a serious illness that is not COVID-19, you must understand that your illness is not a priority right now. This is more than terrifying. And there is no end in sight; the vaccines are being released slowly (you know: bureaucracy: nobody's fault!) and it’s important to remember that they may not be effective against the newest viral mutations. This lock down may go on for years, epidemic may follow epidemic. Who knows? Maybe it will go on forever. We know nothing for sure. This stunning daily fear -- and this life-that-is-not-a life -- has become the new normal, just as they said it would. Little did we know how prophetic the predictions of Public Health would be. If I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, it might be time to take my own life; certainly that seems like the logical, reasonable perhaps even scientific choice. After all, I would be nothing more than a burden on an already overburdened health care system, and I would be adding stress to the lives of the many people working so hard at saving people from COVID-19. Another friend of mine thinks he might have syphilis (yes, that’s the kind of crowd I hang out with, people who think they might have syphilis, judge me, and I know you will!). And the doctor told the nurse that if it turns out my friend does have syphilis he will likely not be treated. The doctor’s attitude was this: ‘This guy shouldn’t be out having sex with people during the COVID-19 lock down -- so let him try dealing with syphilis for awhile!’ (Keep in mind this person who possibly has a case of syphilis is HIV positive.) I would respectfully ask all of you how we have arrived at the point where human beings are punished for being sick. There is so much talk of science; and yet why does the way we are treating each other seem to be more consistent with superstition? Instant news about the epidemic and its tragic course, its killer path, the pain of others, the fear we are required to have, nay that we must have — attacks us every day. But most of all it is so hard for us to understand that human contact is not important anymore; that being close to those we love -- and not only hugging them -- but getting encouragement and emotional sustenance, laughter, tears — is something we most certainly must give up. Can't you see that we are not only being punished for being sick, but for being human? And it will not work. Most people would rather be dead than live like this. But the worst part is that every day we are inculcated over and over with the fresh news that it is all our fault. It is not the government's fault that seniors’ homes are desperately underfunded, or that there are not enough vaccines to go around. The government need not feel guilty, or be punished. But we, the people, must lose our jobs, stay home and not speak to anyone. And finally there is the relentless, mind-numbing propaganda — because that’s what it is. I am not denying the information is factual, I mean who knows? But no one ever said that propaganda was necessarily lies; it could be truths that are hurled at you by the government day after day, the same truths but you are forced to hear over and over again; its like being bludgeoned with a club. We are told -- in Orwellian fashion -- to stop loving people, out of love for them (stay apart: stay together). Any idiot knows this is nonsense. Or perhaps we must simply give in, perhaps it’s simply a matter of understanding that we deserve to be punished —we’ve always endangered our own lives -- smoking, drinking, doing drugs, driving cars, having fun and getting laid -- but much much more importantly, we have been endangering the lives of others, and it is finally time to stop. I had a friend years ago who was trying to get off heroin (yes she was my friend, and yes, she was on heroin, judge me -- I know you will!) and we stayed up with her night after night for weeks to help her. I am not telling you this in order to valorise myself, but to explain (to doctors, and public health) what it means to take the Hippocratic Oath. It means that you help people; but you do not judge them. It means that you do not punish the sick. It means that you have compassion for suffering, whether it be the suffering of a drug addict, a smoker, or an anti-masker. It means that there are no television interviews with dying people who were ‘mask deniers’ and who have now have realised the error of their ways. It means that you will abandon schadenfreude. You are not supposed to be ignoring or (could it be?) enjoying the pain of others (that was Dachau) -- you are not supposed to enjoy taking away their need to love each other, out of misapropriated righteousness. You are supposed to be making people feel better. And it is not that we cannot handle the bitter scientific truth. It is that we cannot handle our humanity being trampled daily by an army of sycophantic, preaching, pontificating, condescending politicians, who are not as concerned about public health as they are being elected again to public office, so much so that they have to put on an empty display of concern for the dying. Can I tell you what concern for the dying means? It means you hug them. We learned this during AIDS. I thought everyone learned this. But obviously not. But we shall go on dying alone, without love — because love is no longer allowed. And if people kill themselves out of desperation — as many are choosing to do — we must not blame them. But I know the urge will be there. Because everything is our fault. When in fact, our only fault is being human.
