SICKNESS CYCLE GIVES EVERYONE A SPIN

In the beginning, a sickness cycle draws a response of sorrow and apology. And it’s always nice to hear.

Those afflicted need to hear from friends and family first. Why? Because it’s reassuring to know they care.

But what if an announcement of illness at the beginning of a sickness cycle brings nothing, or a ho-hum? The sickness isn’t affected, but the patient might be.

During the covid19 pandemic, the virus shutdown, or whatever you’d like to call it, the response has been mixed.

Did anyone expect to hear as much anti-science nonsense about dealing with a highly contagious disease? I didn’t, but it was all over the place, and coming from the last place expected.

The White House of the Trump Administration somehow gathered as many morons as possible to talk about the disease cycle of the virus. Crackpot idea after crackpot idea spewed from podiums of normal truth, honesty, and justice.

Another blogger would make a list starting with malaria meds, bleach, and a shop light, but not this one. Oops.

This blogger plans to vote for less crackpot and more sense, and that looks like Joe Biden in November. This is the same Joe Biden who sent a tweet out when he learned that Mr. Trump and his wife had contracted corona.

Joe Biden, Man Of Honor And Decency

Joe Biden@JoeBiden Jill and I send our thoughts to President Trump and First Lady Melania Trump for a swift recovery. We will continue to pray for the health and safety of the president and his family.

That was followed by some pretty good reassurance:

I’m happy to report that Jill and I have tested negative for COVID. Thank you to everyone for your messages of concern. I hope this serves as a reminder: wear a mask, keep social distance, and wash your hands.

I read the words of Joe Biden’s tweet I quoted and wonder how many people would be alive if Mr. Trump had said this same thing in January, February, March, April.

After their first debate, Biden pointed this out:

Donald Trump showed the country last night just how unfit he is to be president.

Public Sickness Cycle

Unless you’re a hermit living in the wild, get sick, die alone, and wolves eat you leaving no trace after burying your bones, it’s hard keeping sickness quiet.

People want to know, and if you’re a public person, your sickness is a public event.

After cancer, HPV 16 sex cancer, took up residence in my neck, I had choices. I could let it ride and trust my faith to cure me. I’d heard it was a possibility, then learned that people who’d gone that direction died.

I had to decide if I would make it a public thing on Facebook and twitter, my two social media hangouts. The advice I got was don’t lay it out there until I was on the cure. Made sense to me, and here’s why:

If you talk about illness, everyone wants to talk about it. Are you okay? Are you doing better? Did you get our thoughts and prayers? What have you had done so far?

In other words, I was already a mess. Did I want to get messier? No, I didn’t. I had to talk about cancer and cancer treatment while it was ongoing, and that was enough.

Actually, it was more than enough.

Braking On Sickness

The two most memorable people I met in cancer treatment, besides staff, were each memorable in their own way.

One man was a Trump fan who needed the others in the room to know his feelings. Here’s the short version:

“Finally, we have a man in the White House, a real man, a man who can get things done.”

He reported a variation over and over until someone in the room spoke up. There were three of us in there, me, Trump fan, and a lady who drove her neighbor for treatment. She spoke first, and the results were predictable.

“We’ve had a real man in the White House for the last eight years,” she said. Which is all it took to set him off.

Maybe you know people like this? Either a stranger, or someone you know but haven’t seen or heard from in years, pops up with the highlights of every shitty thing you’ve done, or they think you’ve done.

Trump fan identified a liberal and decided he needed to ‘own’ them. And he did when he blamed her for every real or imaginary slight he’s felt in his life.

Shortly, she’d had enough and left the room to me and Trump fan. We were a bad match. I talked to him, he ignored me. I asked a few questions, like why does a verbally abusive asshole bring his act into the radiation waiting room? Isn’t cancer enough? Or maybe he didn’t have cancer at all and just came there for an audience.

I asked about the rest of his day. Would he go home and kick his dog? Tell his kids they’re worthless pieces of shit like their old man? Beat his wife for good measure?

He said he didn’t have a wife, kids, or dog. So I asked about his mother since we seemed to have no boundaries of decency. Who ever gets the chance at that?

He said his mother had died last year. That’s when I should have stopped. I didn’t, and it didn’t end well.

Sickness Cycle Of A Southern Gentleman?

A man spoke with one of the most beautiful Southern accents I’d ever heard, and I wanted to hear more.

We were in the radiation waiting room alone. He was new and I was well on my way to feeling worse than I’d ever felt. It was a feeling balanced with the promise I wouldn’t die, but I’d feel death’s cold breath on my neck.

This was a miserable time for me and I countered it with polite conversation about anything not cancer related. My old South guy started on a track that made cancer sound like a birthday party.

The man explained slavery, the repugnant southern states institution, in glowing terms. He said the Civil War started by the North wasn’t about slavery at all, but against the Southern way of life. And he had his reasoning down to a science. He wasn’t to blame, and neither were his ancestors.

To him the slavery issue was another convenient scapegoat for liberals to whine about. I’m sitting there thinking, ‘Here we go.’ I have my reasoning about slavery, those who enslaved, and those like my pal there who are lost in the fragrance of Magnolias and Hydrangeas, down to a science too.

The more he talked, the more inspired I got to give him a history class he didn’t want. If I didn’t get called to get the daily zap soon, I’d tell the colonel how wrong he was, and how he could change. If I didn’t leave soon, I’d tell this old man how he could help black people connect to a heritage of nation building, and how the stain of slavery isn’t their fault. If I know myself, I wouldn’t stop until I either turned this guy from his dream lifestyle, or he got up and left.

I was ready to start when the tech came into the room and called for me.

We can work together and vote for a better way forward. Beating the sickness cycle is a good start. Voting for Joe Biden and a blue ticket is a good start.

On your mark, get set, VOTE! Beat the sickness cycle in America.