Coronavirus Musings

I was discharged Sunday, 2 February. Free of the trauma and chaos of the previous four months. I lost both big toes, or great toes in podiatry parlance, and the second toe on my right foot.

This little piggy went to market.

My balance is fucked. It’s depressing. But I’m home. 1 month of more progressive physical therapy, home chores and cooking. There are more rumblings on TV about a disease in China and Italy. Nothing here. President Trump seems convinced coronavirus is a hoax. Towards March the message changed. Experts called forward. Help us. Save us. There is no coherence from the Trump administration.

March arrives. Stay at home. Social distancing. Governor Whitmer issues her own Michigan stay at home. For 3 weeks. It doesn’t jive with Trump’s schedule. I am confused. Who’s in charge?

If I were leading an alien bug army in UFO’s – now would be the time to attack.

Photo by Francesco Ungaro from Pexels

There is way too much going on. I start to shut down emotionally. Coincidentally, I just started working with others on the #RecoveryPosse website. And I was ghosting my team!

Still, I needed to process. When I made the decision to amputate, it was fast. The doctor gave me time and my options. I had time to consider. But I had decided, internally. It’s a brash decision. Amputation. Sacrifice of my flesh to nothing. To entropy. Too much emotion. I shelved it. I’d deal with it later. The feelings.

So I’m in a virus apocalypse, the world’s changed. It won’t restart the same. It won’t look the same. I’m just starting outpatient physical therapy. I’m trying to process what I shelved. All appointments perpetually rescheduled. No guidance.

I’m just like everyone else. Caught in the mysterious, magical in-between. Seemingly glued there. The $20 I have is all I have. That’s a sharp reminder there is a bottom ahead.

Other thoughts:

  • What will a collapsing supply chain do to things like my mail order insulins and other meds.
  • I can’t ‘float’ goodwill as currency.
  • Must maintain humor. Things are bleak.

So @ChrisBzChris keeps reaching out to me. Thanks.

I haven’t even fully processed my mom’s death, well, her estate. I have been in process of some intense, surgically involved health aspect since 2016.

My inbox was already full before coronavirus. I have a lot to sort out. But here I am, caught in the in-between. Just like everyone else.

I’m not sure how to right this ship, but I know how to wrong it. I don’t wanna wrong it.

Somewhere in all of this, I managed some gratitude. Some acceptance. Open-mindedness. Honesty.

Coronavirus is intense! It’s disruptive. Whatever emerges when we restart society I wanna be a part of. So I need the ability to sort it out.

I love the steps, cuz they are a design for living. I won’t deep dive on my philosophy of recovery. I love the steps tho, the support community, and am grateful to AA.

Anyhow, I’m gonna wrap this up.

Coronavirus has altered a lot of landscapes, but the recovery landscape and community largely just shifted online. Zoom meetings. Brady Bunch nostalgia on glowing displays. It reminded me of how fast our community reacts and adapts.

I also know people are dying and struggling hard right now. Addicts. Humans. People like me.

I found the reenergization I needed. My center. My balance. I feel zestfully clean and alive. And committed to let people caught up in that struggle know freedom is possible. #RecoveryPosse

One comment

  1. Steven,
    Thank you for supporting so many of us in the RP!
    What a hard time it is for you. And many others.
    I am sorry.
    I was thinking today of all the “old people”, my age and older, that are becoming just a number. Expendable I guess.
    It is so nice to see you outside!
    xo
    Wendy

    Liked by 1 person

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