Weary

cotton boll, ripe for picking

This morning I woke feeling weary.  I am frustrated with the confusion people are expressing about how to cope with a respiratory pandemic.  How many people are STILL not understanding why it is important to wear a mask, or even how to wear one properly.  How you will not be poisoned by your own 'carbon monoxide'.  (We breathe out carbon dioxide, just saying.)

Some people continue to equate wearing a simple piece of cloth as 'suppression' instead of the simple common sense solution that will protect us all.

I found myself scrolling past posts that seem to have increased in frequency over the past few days, contemplating how anti-maskers and anti-vaccine folk are using the same arguments about not doing either.

Thing is, I am old enough to remember how many people died from diseases we now have vaccines for.  I've mentioned here previously how my mother made damned sure that when polio and small pox vaccines became available, she was right there, ensuring that both her children got them.  (I am old enough to have gotten sick from measles, chicken pox and mumps the 'old-fashioned way' - not a process I would encourage when there is a perfectly effective vaccine for all three and more besides.)

The death toll from diseases that we can easily control by the simple expedient of vaccines used to be staggering.  Don't believe me?  Check the death rates prior to oh, say, 1950 from these illnesses.

There are people who cannot, for one reason or another, have a vaccine.  In that case, they are relying on the rest of us to help protect them by getting vaccinated ourselves.

And so it is with this latest virus.  ALL of us need to wear a mask to help slow the spread of this terrible disease, a disease where we have no idea just how badly it is going to affect people, even if they have 'just a mild' case.  

Feeling weary and incapable of being supportive and encouraging, I had decided to skip a post today.  I had nothing to say that I haven't already said - almost daily - for the past four months or so.

And then the mail was delivered.

A real piece of snail mail.  A lovely card.  With the most supportive and encouraging message.

A delight and a treasure.  And just the injection of positivity I needed to say it all again:

Stay home if you possibly can.  If you can't, wear a mask.  Maintain physical distancing.  Wash your hands.

Stay safe.  Until we can safely meet again.

{{{hugs}}}