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I manage, I manage…
Where have you been? asked worried readers who noticed that I had been away for a while. I was just trying to manage. Managing my life as a caregiver in the time of COVID.
I took time off to go with my mother, who suddenly, due to a brain tumour, went from a hyperactive grandmother who swims three times a week to this category of people called “the more vulnerable”. Those who fight against the disease, for their life, in the inhuman isolation imposed by the pandemic.
One operation, five hospitalizations, seven rounds of chemo, and I can’t remember how many more waves of COVID later, I manage, I manage, a KN95 mask screwed to my face.
Infinitely grateful to the exhausted caregivers who have had to manage day after day for two years the unmanageable suffering they are witnessing. The waves that follow one another, the emergencies that overflow, the load shedding, the people who die because, what do you want, we have to “live with the virus”.
So manage your risk, we are told. Everyone take their responsibilities. Take small steps to protect yourself. Don’t take unnecessary risks. How to distinguish useful risks from useless risks? Arrange…
After two years of a pandemic that claimed the lives of more than 14,000 Quebecers, it is amazing to see how much the notion of collective responsibility has been evacuated in the management of the pandemic.
Are you immunocompromised? Manage your risk! Make sure you don’t catch the damn virus.
Are you a caregiver of a vulnerable person? Do your best to help without harming.
It’s easier said than done, even when you’re properly vaccinated and ultra-cautious. With outbreaks in schools, COVID has come home twice in less than four months. It’s a real headache.
The first time, in December, the quest for a box of rapid tests at the corner pharmacy looked like Cocothon in Laval. I quickly gave up to go queue for a PCR test and be able to manage my risk. The second time there was no riotous egg hunt, which might have looked like an improvement. But no… As PCR tests are no longer accessible to the public, a caregiver who would like to be sure to help without harm is left to himself.
If my son has COVID, even if my rapid test is negative several days in a row and I have no symptoms, it is still risky to go see my immunocompromised mother. It could be a false negative. I could be asymptomatic. So I have to manage my risk and my symptoms of acute nausea.
Learning to live with the virus, we want to. But it would still be necessary to give ourselves the means to do so collectively. Send clear directives to the population to protect the most vulnerable and support health care workers who are at their wit’s end. Remember that the pandemic is unfortunately not over and that it remains worrying. Encourage people to get their booster dose. Don’t trivialize COVID by comparing it to a cold. No cold has ever put the healthcare system in such dire straits. No cold has led to 14,618 deaths in two years1. No cold has caused so much collateral damage, as we talk about all those women between the ages of 30 and 60 whose lives have been turned upside down by the long COVID2patients victims of load shedding3of their helpless relatives who could not be at their bedside, of young people in depression4 or burnout caregivers5…
Learning to live with the virus requires coming out of denial. To be consistent. Explain that COVID is transmitted by aerosols. Ensure good ventilation of schools and all public places to limit transmission. Not to drop the masks too quickly and even to remember that it is in our best interest to wear KN95 type masks to reduce transmission. So many essential measures which for the time being, alas, in the official directives, have taken up less space than the unfortunate publication by mistake, Thursday, by the Ministry of Health of a link to a pornographic site in its report of the day6.
With that, I’m going to prepare for Easter by Zoom.
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Related
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–
I manage, I manage…
Where have you been? asked worried readers who noticed that I had been away for a while. I was just trying to manage. Managing my life as a caregiver in the time of COVID.
I took time off to go with my mother, who suddenly, due to a brain tumour, went from a hyperactive grandmother who swims three times a week to this category of people called “the more vulnerable”. Those who fight against the disease, for their life, in the inhuman isolation imposed by the pandemic.
One operation, five hospitalizations, seven rounds of chemo, and I can’t remember how many more waves of COVID later, I manage, I manage, a KN95 mask screwed to my face.
Infinitely grateful to the exhausted caregivers who have had to manage day after day for two years the unmanageable suffering they are witnessing. The waves that follow one another, the emergencies that overflow, the load shedding, the people who die because, what do you want, we have to “live with the virus”.
So manage your risk, we are told. Everyone take their responsibilities. Take small steps to protect yourself. Don’t take unnecessary risks. How to distinguish useful risks from useless risks? Arrange…
After two years of a pandemic that claimed the lives of more than 14,000 Quebecers, it is amazing to see how much the notion of collective responsibility has been evacuated in the management of the pandemic.
Are you immunocompromised? Manage your risk! Make sure you don’t catch the damn virus.
Are you a caregiver of a vulnerable person? Do your best to help without harming.
It’s easier said than done, even when you’re properly vaccinated and ultra-cautious. With outbreaks in schools, COVID has come home twice in less than four months. It’s a real headache.
The first time, in December, the quest for a box of rapid tests at the corner pharmacy looked like Cocothon in Laval. I quickly gave up to go queue for a PCR test and be able to manage my risk. The second time there was no riotous egg hunt, which might have looked like an improvement. But no… As PCR tests are no longer accessible to the public, a caregiver who would like to be sure to help without harm is left to himself.
If my son has COVID, even if my rapid test is negative several days in a row and I have no symptoms, it is still risky to go see my immunocompromised mother. It could be a false negative. I could be asymptomatic. So I have to manage my risk and my symptoms of acute nausea.
Learning to live with the virus, we want to. But it would still be necessary to give ourselves the means to do so collectively. Send clear directives to the population to protect the most vulnerable and support health care workers who are at their wit’s end. Remember that the pandemic is unfortunately not over and that it remains worrying. Encourage people to get their booster dose. Don’t trivialize COVID by comparing it to a cold. No cold has ever put the healthcare system in such dire straits. No cold has led to 14,618 deaths in two years1. No cold has caused so much collateral damage, as we talk about all those women between the ages of 30 and 60 whose lives have been turned upside down by the long COVID2patients victims of load shedding3of their helpless relatives who could not be at their bedside, of young people in depression4 or burnout caregivers5…
Learning to live with the virus requires coming out of denial. To be consistent. Explain that COVID is transmitted by aerosols. Ensure good ventilation of schools and all public places to limit transmission. Not to drop the masks too quickly and even to remember that it is in our best interest to wear KN95 type masks to reduce transmission. So many essential measures which for the time being, alas, in the official directives, have taken up less space than the unfortunate publication by mistake, Thursday, by the Ministry of Health of a link to a pornographic site in its report of the day6.
With that, I’m going to prepare for Easter by Zoom.
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