It gets to me in the evening. The fear. The sadness. The discomfort.
In the evening, I start to worry whether I, someone I love, some I care about, a dear friend, a colleague, and yes, even someone I know only through social media — might get sick of this illness. That they might die. I’m selfish. I don’t want anyone I care about to be sick or ill.
As I wrote the other day on Facebook, the fears give into a malaise about the world — make that my carefully constructed world — around me crashing down. I crave order in my life. Things working. My iPod. My DVR. My weekends. Knowing I have the ability to get what I want at the market. Knowing I have the ability to see my friends. This little strand of RNA reproducing has disrupted all of that. I don’t like it.
Yet I know that I still have many blessings. I don’t have to worry about my job or income. Our customer wants us to do more work. We’re all reasonably healthy. To our knowledge, we haven’t been near carriers, and have been self-isolating. I’m generally an introvert — I should like this, right?
But I’m still unsettled. And we’re only three days in. This is likely to be a long haul — conceivably stretching into May or June. This is going to be a very long year — not what any of us had planned.
I’m hoping that by writing these thoughts down, I’m getting them out of my brain. I’m sure you’re having thoughts like these as well. Feel free to share. Perhaps by sharing, we can help each other.