When I lost my voice last week, I knew I was Bad sick.
Ten days after Round One. This demanded Doctor Time.
There were shots — steroids in the backside — bedrest orders and a trio of prescriptions, plus specific eating and drinking menus, too.
As I recovered, I read good and bad novels. Slept (ten hours one night — long time since that’s happened!). Took meds. Ate chicken noodle soup (yes, this vegetarian). Guzzled orange juice. Sucked on cough drops.
Repeated the cycle. Over and over and three days later playtime beckoned.
What else is a bored mind to do? Especially when it can’t leave the house?
I’d heard a coronavirus advisory about hand protection. I searched for rubber gloves. Found only an old pair of cotton gloves, used at bedtime for lotion‐slathered reptile hands (i.e., really cracked palms and fingers—like I once experienced). This time, I saw something new.
Not jazz hands! Too passé!
Then, let’s make…
Those hipster sunglasses protect sensitive eyes. Like the face mask, they both protect nothing.
And the hand sanitizer? It’s making up for what cotton gloves don’t offer in a viral pandemic.
Zany humor only goes so far?
One vital element that matters in these times is the Truth, and it’s too hard to find.
In a previous life, I worked as a crisis communications consultant for companies all around the globe. We taught our clients to always tell the truth, even if—especially if—it’s bad.
Our wallet card listed truth‐telling as Rule #6. This was the 1991 world when DH and I still carried a pager.
Eons before social media took over, outing everyone at nanospeed.
Interesting, isn’t it: the do’s and don’t’s of crisis communications haven’t changed in 31 years.
Same as humans getting sick and infecting each other. Think 102 years ago and the 1918 flu pandemic.
We can learn from this crisis road, can’t we?
The wise words from Clarissa Pinkola Estes offer us all a how: “One of the most important steps you can take to help calm the storm is to not allow yourself to be taken in a flurry of overwrought emotion or despair – thereby accidentally contributing to the swale and the swirl. Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach.”
Coronavirus is an opportunity, folks.
Let’s use it.
Be kind. Be well.
NOTE: With this post, I am moving to an every‐other‐week publishing schedule. My abundant writing projects demand it! Thank you for understanding — xo