I took a walk yesterday.  A gray day, mid-January with a brisk breeze and thirty degrees.  I walked 3rd Street in Geneva, the mind stimulated by visual and tactile sensation, — as I passed by restaurants “coming to life” in early afternoon.  Reaching State Street, intending to purchase another cup of coffee from the Starbucks across the way, at the intersection on my left a middle aged man, stood holding a large hand-lettered sign for everyone to see.  Who is so “inspired” in service of any cause to spend time standing at a busy intersection in winter?

I felt compelled speak to him.  He appeared to be in his 50s.  Hurrying across the street I said hello and noted that he was promoting a point of view concerning the covid pandemic.  His message spoke for itself.  I asked how he arrived at advocating “natural immunity.”  He told me the story of his families encounter with the virus.  Each family member had what amounted to a severe cold, even his 91 year old father.  He mentioned the CDC advisement that the omicron variant caused a milder sickness than the previous delta virus.  I responded observing the statement of virus’ severity depends entirely upon the wide range of meaning of the term “mild.” He appeared to be thoughtful and agreed with my statement.  The conversation ended at that point as we both stood in the cold.  He thanked me for the reasonable exchange of views.  He added that he had been physically assaulted in the past on account of his views.  We parted on warm terms.  I don’t know his name.  I don’t think that matters.

This from the New York Times of yesterday:

Your health care stories

“I left my job as an emergency medicine doctor after serving two waves. I gave everything I had. We ran out of medications. We ran out of staff. Our 12-bed I.C.U. unit had more than 60 ventilated patients. I cried with the families over the phone, of course, because they were barred from their loved ones. Then, the country made the vaccine political. I couldn’t take on the emotional burden again, knowing there was a vaccine that could prevent another inevitable surge. I served my community, my state and my country. I couldn’t emotionally take on more senseless deaths. I left the hospital with PTSD and entered a jobless market.” — Kayla Guidry, emergency medicine doctor, Brooklyn, N.Y.

“I haven’t left yet, but I cut my hours back significantly. I hit a breaking point where I couldn’t stop crying on my days off. I dreaded work and still do.” — Whitney Hopes, registered nurse, Utah

“As a group, after two years of this pandemic, we are all suffering from PTSD. I have colleagues who gave their lives to this pandemic, others so scarred from disease that they may never work again. Very little thanks coming our way. Sometimes even scorn. It’s stressful to discover that the person in cardiac arrest that we just spent 45 minutes intubating and doing chest compressions on died of complications of Covid and rewarded my team with a massive exposure to the virus for all of their efforts to save him. He never bothered to get vaccinated. We are all pretty much fed up with this.” — Louis Cooper, attending physician, emergency medicine, New York, N.Y.

“I am a palliative care doctor and we serve the ‘end of the train’ with Covid as well as many other diseases. Although it is stressful and draining, and may ultimately take its toll on many of us, it is also critical. We need to remain devoted and compassionate to the care of patients near the end of their lives no matter what choices they have made or what got them there. We also need to support the teams of people who are taking care of these patients to reduce the degree of burnout they are experiencing.” — James Bell, M.D., Cedar Rapids, Iowa

“I had to leave my job due to developing long Covid. I realized that not only was my body a problem, but my brain processing was as well. I feared I would make a serious mistake that could impact patient outcomes. It was a terrifying experience that finally allowed me to listen to my physician’s advice to take long-term leave.” — Nicole, medical technician, Hendersonville, N.C.

“I was a nurse during the beginning of the AIDS epidemic, so I wasn’t a stranger to fearing for your life because of your job. But in both instances when I saw what my patients were going through, I couldn’t desert them. Just yesterday one of my patients reached up from his bed for my hand and I realized that he was supporting me, wanting to thank and encourage me. How can you leave when you get that almost every day?” — Lawana Kelly, registered nurse, Kansas City, Mo.

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Always a song that will assist navigating the difficult rapids of this thing we call “life.”  The lyric is the story of a solitary life, even one lived in the presence of multitudes.  Sometimes you tell the day-By the bottle that you drink-And times when you’re alone all you do is think.  And I walk these streets… I play for keeps, ’cause I might not make it back.  Never more true words could be said of life now for every one of us.  I know the feeling.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNLeE0rUQ6w

Wanted Dead Or Alive

By Jon Bon Jovi

It’s all the same, only the names will change
Every day it seems we’re wasting away
Another place where the faces are so cold
I’d drive all night just to get back home

I’m a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I’m wanted dead or alive
Wanted dead or alive

Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it’s not for days
And the people I meet always go their separate ways
Sometimes you tell the day
By the bottle that you drink
And times when you’re alone all you do is think

I’m a cowboy
On a steel horse I ride
I’m wanted, wanted, dead or alive
Wanted (wanted) dead or alive

Oh and I ride!

I’m a cowboy
On a steel horse I ride
I’m wanted (wanted) dead or alive

And I walk these streets, a loaded six-string on my back
I play for keeps, ’cause I might not make it back
I’ve been everywhere, and still I’m standing tall
I’ve seen a million faces and I’ve rocked them all

‘Cause I’m a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I’m wanted dead or alive
‘Cause I’m a cowboy, I got the night on my side
I’m wanted dead or alive
And I ride dead or alive
I still drive, dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive

Composed by Desmond Child, Jon Bon Jovi, Richard Sambora