A rant to end all rants

Ygritte the Wildling Kitten

See what I did there? The war to end all wars didn’t end wars, and this rant will, sorry to say, not end my rants either.

I am to the point as a nurse that I don’t really know which way is up. Let’s be honest. I go into work and I am “balls to the wall” until I leave. I am grateful to be able to leave at this point. I know it may very well come to a point in the next couple of weeks when I can’t leave. I’m having trouble processing everything that’s going on outside of my hospital, locally to globally, personally to interpersonally. I’m running on auto. I need help to function, but I’m a travel nurse, living by myself in a studio apartment with my cat, Ygritte. FaceTime with my fiancé and my parents have been keeping me functional. (Point in case: I just typed ‘functionable’ instead of functional. I swear, I’ve already had my coffee. Ha!)

I know it may very well come to a point in the next couple of weeks when I can’t leave.

I am fearful about the future, I know many of us are. I fear that my parents, financé or other loved one will die, and I won’t be there to hold their hand as they do. I fear that my family will suffer. I fear for many of my friends AFTER this is over, that they’ll be in economic ruin. I fear I’ll be forced to miss funerals. I fear that our country won’t learn from our utter mismanagement and lack of preparedness.

I am sad that I won’t be able to go to church for Annunciation or Pascha (Orthodox Easter). I am sad that I haven’t hugged anyone for over a week. I am sad that the last time I saw my fiancé I was distracted by this virus. I am sad that my dying patients can’t have their loved ones at the bedside.

I am angry at individuals and organizations not taking this seriously or blatantly going against recommendations. I am angry that our government tried to hide the seriousness of this. I am angry that our medical system is so heartless. I am angry that our healthcare system is so unprepared, purely because the hospital systems wanted to make more money.

I am grateful that I have food in my fridge. I am grateful that I have running water and bleach wipes and soap. I am simultaneously sad and grateful that I do live by myself in that I can’t bring this disease home to anyone, but also, can’t get one of those long, reassuring hugs after my day. I am grateful to be able to pay rent. I am grateful for a cozy fireplace. I am grateful for dreary, rainy days that make it easier to sleep for my night shift.

I am grateful for available art and music. I am grateful for the daily readings of the Orthodox Church. I am grateful for live streaming of church services. I am grateful for the internet and that I can find whatever services, prayers, music, or fellowship that helps me get through this. I am grateful for the stories and lives of the saints of the Church that give examples of how to live through this difficulty. I’m grateful for BOOKS. And streaming TV shows. And podcasts. I’m grateful for my two new roommates, the Spider Sisters; we are all practicing social distancing within the apartment.

I am thankful for couch to 5K programs. I am thankful for ant traps. I m thankful for camp directors who understand and help me delegate things off my plate. I am thankful for random calls from friends across the country. I am thankful for kitten cuddles. I am thankful for a lot of things right now.

The thankfulness doesn’t negate the anger or the fear. They’re all there, boiling together in a pot.

“The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”

Doctor Who: Vincent and the Doctor

Pray for the healthcare providers, pray for the sick, pray for the dead, pray for the world. Stay home. Live in the moment. Wash yer hands.

Ginger Anger

Why and how do I become so angry all the time? It’s like a wild animal takes over my mind and my heart, throwing any rational human side of me to the gutter, stomping out any lasting humanity. It can take hours at times for the animal to finish feeding, stalk off, and even then, the reasoned humanity still lays motionless in that gutter of filth, sulking at the beating and afraid of the animal’s return. It’s a very leery and fearful humanity that finally crawls out of that gutter, dirty, beaten and bruised, and humiliated at the loss to a wild thing.
As reason, logic, and a better understanding of love crawl back into my self-hood, I am humbled by the wilderness, by the strength the wild can still wield on me, within me.

The roar of my red hair is sudden and only silenced by love and prayer.