Oh what a relief Coronal blandness is

The collective unconscious, or implied consensus, is that this – the plague of Coronavirus – is the time to have profound thoughts and feelings. About world, society, humanity, self. Every New York Times, The Atlantic, Slate, Mother Jones, Politico op-ed or article, other than ‘how to make a mask,’ is infused with this imperative. David Brooks wrote an opinion piece to ask:

“Would you be willing to describe how the coronavirus is affecting your mental health? Is the combination of isolation and existential stress making you feel more depressed and anxious? Or is the family togetherness and the pause from normal life giving you a greater sense of belonging and equilibrium? How would you describe your psychological state? What are you doing to cope? If you’re a mental health worker, what are you seeing out there?”*

I think, and I feel. But I have no particular broad response to what people are going through now. I believe all the pontifical, statistical and maudlin news is cumbersome on the mind. I am almost getting tired of hearing how terrible Trump is, how he screwed this up, too. I’ve actually suffered this transient cynical attitude infection: “How can people continue to be so stupid as to catch this thing? Are sick mouths some kind of siren call for you, you dolts?” The infection disappears, replaced by numb with a splash of fear and a touch of dread.

Probably the most disagreeable, by which I mean repulsive, feeling I have about this is that we all seem to be expected to come together in the spirit of government-shepherded humanity. Is that a feeling people actually have? I would certainly kick its ass if it tried to tempt me. OK, let the authorities rain millions of masks and ventilators on the country, make proclamations to send us to our rooms. I solemnly informed the Trader Joe’s cashier that as I am six feet tall, I will lie on the floor and pass shoppers’ items to her. Stupid, but descriptive of my disgust with government elementary school truths.

Two seconds of homage to the fix we’re in:

Make it go away ! ! ! !

I responded to Mr. Brooks’ request for feedback. I suspect he was disappointed with my lack of the crusade feeling. I said that my clients, via teletherapy, are continuing to work on their childhood injuries, their marriages, their family enmeshment, their malaise. The teens are bored. No one has asked for help with coronavirus anxiety or coronavirus depression. They have not answered the call!

So let this be my invitation to readers and clients to just be themselves and not have to think much or say much about the disaster du jour. I have a pretty confident feeling that they are all doing what they can to stay safe and alive. I am enjoying this chance to be at home. Teletherapy client, snack, tele-client, look at my wife, AmazonPrime, nap, loll around the living room, tweak a blog post, lunch, maybe see another client.

Sweet. But deadly . . . . . .

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* https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/02/opinion/mental-health-coronavirus.html.

Addendum

Today’s New York Times has an editorial** by Dr. Kathryn Dreger which details the destruction Covid-19 can wreak on the lungs. Dr. Dreger also describes the damage a ventilator can cause by action of too much oxygen or too little oxygen. She notes that “These machines can’t fix the terrible damage the virus is causing, and if the virus erupts, the lungs will get even stiffer, as hard as a stale marshmallow.” I perceived from the following passages and others, I believe accurately, the doctor’s implied recommendation that we may choose not to indulge in the technology: “Even among the Covid-19 patients who are ventilated and then discharged from the intensive care unit, some have died within days from heart damage,” and “All this does not mean we shouldn’t use ventilators to try to save people. It just means we have to ask ourselves some serious questions: What do I value about my life? If I will die if I am not put in a medical coma and placed on a ventilator, do I want that life support? If I do choose to be placed on a ventilator, how far do I want to go? Do I want to continue on the machine if my kidneys shut down? Do I want tubes feeding me so I can stay on the ventilator for weeks?” I might have resigned myself to this fatalism but for the doctor’s other observation that “. . . even the most modern technology isn’t always enough. Death, while typically painless, is no less final.” “Painless,” you say? To be in pain while not ventilated, or not to be in pain while ventilated? Give me the machine. And by the way, fuck you, Dr. Dreger.

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** https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/04/opinion/coronavirus-ventilators.html?action=click&module=Opinion&pgtype=Homepage.