My Dog is Four…

Yesterday I told the woman at the Dog Park that my dog was four. That was a lie, but I did not know it was a lie until I looked it up. My dog is seven. The lapse is COVID. COVID time is lost time. It is like total amnesia, a civilization blank. No one remembers. It is space—empty—two plus years of time we cannot recall. This is completely bizarre but also historically typical. Most major plagues have been forgotten as quickly as they could be. We cannot process them and so they get kicked out of our memories just like drunken evenings, sordid one night stands and prat falls. To me this is fascinating but true.?

The 1918 pandemic was during our grandparents’??era. It was actually three years of influenza waves. 500 million cases worldwide and 50 million deaths. The last wave was the most mortal. Pre-vaccine, pre-antibiotic young people died all over the world. It was a mind boggling tragedy. And it was almost completely forgotten. That is just the way these things go…

As much as I and my Public Health colleagues exhort folks to review and relive and understand the pandemic we are howling at the moon. You cannot remember. We do want you to, we do want you to get your vaccines. We beg you to??continue to rapid test and know where to get life-saving medications should you test positive and become symptomatic. But something about the human psyche cannot handle this. The virus and its ravages were too awful, the toll too terrible to keep in our minds. Clearly this continued caution will not happen the way it should.?

During this interpandemic period is time to regroup, bury the ax of anger and prepare for the next wave…but that likely will not happen either. We desperately need to heal our society from the yawning chasm of conspiracy theories, hate and personal animus which has afflicted us as profoundly as the virus. However, the sun is shining, the hospitals are regaining their footing, the masks are off. Finally, life is returning to hugs and gatherings and celebrations. We are observing long neglected memorials. We find ourselves tearing up with memories of lost loved ones at awkward times. If we spend time reflecting the sadness is overwhelming.

So, we simply won’t. The fall will come with its coldness and respiratory risk. But that is months away. It is likely too hard to do this work now, even to save our lives. I wish we would, I wish we could. I fear it is impossible. For today, my dog is four and so is yours.?