COVID-19 again…REALLY?

I’m an over-thinker. So I find it a blessing that with time, my memories fade into the background. Some good memories linger, while some not-so-good ones disappear almost entirely. In the case of the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic, I suspect just about everything is best forgotten! Yet, as we were warned, COVID never actually went away – and this week, guess what…?

COVID Is Back…

I’d heard about rising UK COVID cases, yet hadn’t paid much attention. But sure enough, a few days ago, I began to feel unwell. One symptom led to another, so on day three, I dug out our stashed COVID tests. There it was: the little red T-line next to the C-line. Really? Again?

…With A Vengeance!

Despite two prior bouts and three jabs, I was unprepared for COVID-19’s renewed assault. The NHS website currently lists twelve symptoms to look out for. When I scored all twelve within 48 hours, I wondered, was there was some sort of prize? Turns out, the ‘prize’ is five days without human contact: not so bad for us introverts! (A little tip for you. If you’re going for all twelve, try to get the diarrhoea and the loss of sense of smell at the same time. It saves a little extra unpleasantness. You’re welcome.)

COVID Messes With Your Head

This time, delirium hit hard, lasting a full day and night. I have vague memories of moaning, “It’s in my head”, “It’s got my brain”, and “No, no, NO!” I suffered some pretty weird dreams and hallucinations. Brains really don’t like being at the wrong temperature, do they? Scary stuff. I also lost perception of time: the night seemed to last forever. Desperate for a long, restful sleep, instead I woke repeatedly to look at the clock just a few minutes further on.

COVID Messes With Your Nose

A runny nose is bad, but losing the ability to smell things is worse. I first encountered a loss of sense of smell (anosmia) several years ago. It showed up as a side-effect to a prescription medication I was taking. My sense of smell returned after I discontinued the tablets. So when anosmia showed up again during my first bout of COVID in 2020, it wasn’t unfamiliar. However, I discovered with alarm that the virus doesn’t affect your nose – it attacks the smell centre in your brain! It’s the stuff of horror movies! (Not that I watch horror movies. I get scared by Popup Pirate and Buckaroo.) So here I sit, entirely unable to tell whether I stink or not. I oscillate between wondering about my last shower and fearing permanent smell loss. Will I ever be able to smell anything again? Time will tell. I’ve already lost part of my eyesight; perhaps I’m losing facial functions one at a time… (I fear some people would be glad to see my mouth go next!)

COVID Messes With Your Calendar

UK COVID-19 advice has evolved almost as much as the virus itself. Having visited the NHS website to play (and win) “symptom bingo” I was also able to check the current recommendations. The days of temporary legal restrictions are thankfully behind us. Nevertheless, as a good citizen, I remained keen to follow the official guidelines as far as possible.

At the time of writing, the advice for adults testing positive for COVID-19 is to try to stay at home and avoid contact with other people for five days, and the clinically vulnerable for ten days. This played temporary havoc with the calendar: cancelling appointments, postponing meetings, adjusting church music arrangements, and relying on family for shopping and more. (The calendar disruption only worsened when my wife also succumbed to the infection. She had to withdraw from running the Rochdale half-marathon with our daughter, having trained for months to complete it. Not a happy day.)

No Thanks For The Memories

You might imagine that the most unpleasant aspect of this unexpected COVID infection has been one of the (ahem!) ‘toilet-related’ symptoms, or the delirious episodes, or perhaps my wife’s tears at being unable to run her half-marathon. No: the worst part is having been reminded of the pandemic. 2020 was a year my life could very happily have done without. You may well feel the same.

Recollections, as usual, had temporarily hidden themselves and I had conveniently forgotten how my wife’s promising new dog-boarding business closed, receiving no government aid due to its late start date. Memories of cancelled holidays and months spent chasing refunds, had long faded. I no longer called to mind being stuck at home, tuning in daily to see the latest Chris Whitty statistics and watching politicians of widely varying competence answering whatever awkward and unhelpful questions the faintly odious members of the press had dragged out of the day’s mire of confusion. (We seemed to not need Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition back then. Beth Rigby and Robert Peston had it more than adequately covered.) And don’t even get me started on Gavin Williamson as he appeared to try to sound like some sort of elder statesman while looking like a gawky 17-year-old. You couldn’t write this stuff. Nor would you want to.

Worst Memory, Highest Honour

I had even mainly set aside painful memories of lockdown travel restrictions, which reduced to a trickle the number of times I could see my mum in Yorkshire, in her 97th year, which turned out to be her last. Worst yet was the emotional agony – yet unmissable honour and privilege – of helping my wife and sister nurse her through the last six weeks, as her life waned. The year began to draw to a close; my sister and I holding her as she went to meet her Saviour, with whom she had faithfully conversed and shared her life each day for so many decades. I hold this belief dearly, and I respect if you don’t. I hope for the same courtesy in return.

Where’s The Silver Lining?

When trying to make sense of the world. I sometimes choose certain key questions to help in a difficult situation. Even as I dab tears from the previous paragraph, I ponder – COVID-19: What’s true? What’s good? What matters? Naturally, each question has its opposite.

What’s True Here? What’s Not?

The truth is: diseases will always be with us in this world. Like my mum, one day we will all no longer walk this earth. Yet disease and suffering do not (or at least need not) define who we are or how we live with one another. The Bible, in 2 Corinthians (stay with me for just a moment if you’re not a Christian) talks about “having this treasure in jars of clay.” The Scripture focuses on the ‘treasure’ (the light of Jesus in the believer) but surely the ‘jars of clay’ are all of us: our ever-failing bodies are temporary vessels that will soon enough stop housing our consciousness.

What’s not true is that we all agree on what happens to that consciousness thereafter. But whether our bodily decay leads you to a science-centred conclusion based on atoms and energy, or whether it inspires in you a faith-centred response such as ‘Pascal’s Wager’, trusting in Jesus, or dancing naked in the woods (please don’t), the fact remains that our bodies come with an unknown use-by date. In the great scheme of things, for us all, this life is very short. We do well to remember this fragility when we choose how to live our lives – for ourselves, our families, and in service of others. As I approach my 7th decade, I notice that the importance of wise and kind choices comes more into focus, though I still often fail to make them.

What’s Good Here? What’s Not?

I can categorically state COVID-19 is not good; my experiences this week have only served to reinforce this opinion! Nothing seems “good” about illness, disease, disability, suffering and death. However, as I recall the awfulness of 2020, I am also reminded of the neighbourly gestures we offered and received, both here and in Yorkshire at my mum’s. We shopped for people; we began to check in more and look out for each other. I feel we began valuing each other’s contribution a little more. I wasn’t entirely convinced about the NHS pan-banging, but I did take time to personally thank many unsung heroes at supermarket checkouts, vaccine centres, and the like. Whether or not there’s a pandemic (please not again), I think both showing more appreciation for each other and finding more gratitude for the blessings we already have, ARE good. They’re certainly less stressful than always chasing the next big thing.

What Matters Here? What Doesn’t?

Amongst the things that I suspect matter very little, are my opinions or ideas, here or elsewhere. But I’ll plough on! Also, many or most of the items on my calendar clearly don’t matter, since they have been so quickly and easily dispensed of this week! I am functionally unimportant to most of the deleted events; people will happily continue with their lives without my input. I am, in short, almost entirely dispensable…and I’m sorry to say, you probably are, too. Despite our many online ‘friends’ and the complexity of our interactions, which may feel like they matter, the down-to-earth-with-a-bump reality is that most people live their own lives paying very little attention to us whatsoever. No amount of making ourselves look or feel important moves the needle on that much. It’s just how they – and we – generally are. On the face of it, neither I, nor you, matter much at all, perhaps? OR…

Mother Knows Best: Ageless Insights for Today

I think my mum should have the final word on this. Born in 1923, she was brought up with many Victorian values of a former age. She often repeated favourite sayings, quotes, and ‘maxims for life’. Some of these she had probably carried with her throughout many of her 97 years. Others we firmly suspect were made up on the spot!

Regular offerings included, “It’ll do won’t do” (likely a contributing factor to my battle with perfectionism!), “There’s none so blind as them that don’t want to see” and its regular partner, “There’s none so deaf as them that don’t want to hear.” There was the heart-breaking, “I complained because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet” and the equally foot-related, “You can only wear one pair of shoes at a time” – a clear candidate for being ‘made-by-Edna’ if ever there was! But anyone who knew her even a little would have heard her share what was easily her all-time favourite: “People matter, not things.”

Wisdom We Can Learn And Live

What my mum understood, better than most, and lived better than any I know, was the value in people. The trappings of life: wealth, status, education, belongings – these things are not so important. She taught me (though I still sometimes fail to remember) that what matters is how we treat each other. Mum didn’t care much about politics, philosophy, sexuality or gender. She understood little of modern ideas. But if you needed someone to listen, she would give you all the time she could find. If you needed someone to love you, pray for you, value you, support you, ring you, write to you, or text you (a WhatsApp, SMS and email user – with attachments – at 97) she would give you every last drop of everything she had.

Many people fortunate enough to have good parents hold similar sentiments about their mothers. My mum didn’t have a monopoly on love and kindness, although when you were with her, this was easy to forget. But she lived a faith-filled life, loving and listening to you, completely regardless of whether or not you shared her belief in God. She demonstrated that even though we (and certainly I) tend to concentrate on ourselves and don’t pay enough attention to the lives of others – there is a better way. It’s no coincidence, of course, that it’s also the Jesus way: she learned it from reading daily of His example: always taking time to love and listen.

Post-Pandemic Life Lessons: A Shared Journey

The struggle with COVID-19, both as individuals and as a collective, gives us all a moment to pause and think about what – and who – truly matters. So while I sit here in my post-COVID haze, pondering life’s mysteries, I find solace in the words my mum lived and breathed: “People matter, not things.” In a world teeming with distractions, materialistic pursuits, and insatiable quests for more, it’s a simple yet profound statement.

Life has a way of confronting us with unforeseen hurdles, some small, and others that completely alter our path. But how we react to these is within our control. We have the power to bring a little more kindness, empathy, and genuine care into the world.

If you know me personally, you’ll be aware that I too often fall far short of these ideals. I can’t claim to emulate my mother’s grace or Christ’s virtues, but I hope I’ll never stop trying. Because it’s what she would want. And because, whilst respecting your right to think I’m deluded, it’s what I choose to believe God wants. Also, because it just seems the decent thing. And maybe because I believe that these efforts, however small, can make the world just a bit better for someone, somewhere, at some time. All reasons enough to keep going.

Glimmers of Truth in a Fog of Illness?

I’m recovering slowly; this somewhat-rambling post may just be the foggy musings of a COVID-afflicted brain. However, if it offers even a hint of insight or comfort, then I consider it worth the effort. Writing helps me focus, anyway.

I sincerely hope you don’t get COVID this time around. But either way, perhaps you, too, will consider what’s true, what’s good, and what matters in your own life. I also hope you might be inspired to live in a way that more closely echoes the wisdom of those who’ve walked the path before us.

Most of all, I hope you’re still reading this…because now you can leave a comment below – would you? Facebook & Instagram ‘likes’ and ‘shares’ are appreciated, but when you take those few extra moments to share your thoughts right alongside mine – that’s so much better! Thank you.