Tag: covid

The end of the ‘Rona?

I have been out of the gym for over two years. Even while on dialysis I was a gym rat. I wasn’t very strong but I was fit and all of the effort that I put in paid dividends when it came time for my surgery. Imagine the mindset you have to have to stay diligent when you know (hope) that “the call” is imminent but you don’t know when it will be. Days, weeks, months or years? Knowing that if you let your fitness fade and gain a bunch of weight it could cause you to be passed over? I took that shit seriously. I knew that I had done it right when I walked the hall to the ER prep on September 9th at 8pm when I was greeted by the prep nurse. He looked at me and said, “Most Kidney transplant patients don’t look like they could kick my ass. Good for you.” I appreciated that but it wasn’t a surprise to me, I’ve always tried to look good for my age. I still seek the ultimate male physique and am hard on myself when I gain weight or get soft. My chest and shoulders are a source of pride and I never factor my age or what I’ve been through into it. If I was smart, or at least realistic, I would ask myself what exactly a 56-year-old who has had a near fatal motorcycle accident, 3 staph infections, cancer, 40 years of progressive Kidney disease, Dialysis, and 2 transplants should look like. But I don’t. My body dysmorphia is that I’m unrealistic. But it works for me.

So imagine how disappointed I was when I had to stay out of the gym due to Covid for 2 years. I live in NH where the cases were not as prevalent as in other states. We are fairly well dispersed up here with the exception of a few major population centers. But certain environments I needed to avoid, especially post-transplant. A room full of equipment being touched by sweaty people spewing exercise-induced heavy breaths all around me was not recommended. It pained me but I worked out from the home to mixed results.

Now it seems that the virus is finally fading and I made the decision yesterday to rejoin my gym. I went in yesterday and there was my buddy Alex the owner. His building was empty. I didn’t mention Covid to him, I knew what it had done to his business. He mentioned it to me instead. He is a Russian immigrant and he is a very hard-working man. He believes that the Governments handling of the Pandemic was overplayed and largely political. I didn’t engage him on this, he was venting not discussing. I quietly wished for him a quick recovery for his business and I signed up. I’ll work out today with real weights for the first time in years.

Seeing the empty gym floor and the face of the hard-working man who owns it will serve to illustrate the damage the Pandemic has had on all of us. Businesses destroyed, people unable to pursue their interests and better their own health is the very least of it. We are about to see the damage done to all of us by forced isolation, fear of interaction, and lack of social activity. People are social creatures, we are not wired to be alone. But there is hope, people are getting back out there and trying to get their lives back.

I wish them luck. Heres to the new status quo of getting back to where we were two years ago.

Before it’s too late

Often when I take a break from blogging it is because I can’t think of a topic. Sometimes it’s just laziness. Sometimes I just get busy, I’m pretty active for a guy with nothing to do. Then other times I just don’t know where to start.

Last week I suffered so many slaps upside the head that I just couldn’t sort my thoughts. It started with the death of a dear friend, then another old friend of the family passed, and then to top off the shit sandwich that was my weekend I found out that my best friend in the world and his young daughter had contracted the Covid-19 virus. I was floored both metaphorically and actually. I didn’t know where to begin.

The death of my friend, a elderly Freemason whose company I have enjoyed so often and so greatly was not a shock. He was elderly and in declining health. Quarantine issues made it difficult to visit him and he wintered in Florida but I had no excuse not to talk to him more frequently and I am feeling guilt even though I don’t feel that there was anything unsaid between us. It is the worst part of losing someone, wondering if you knew where you stood with them. It is THE reason that I endeavor to always leave someone as if I will never see them again, on the level (as we Masons say) and free of anger and resentment. He was my buddy, regardless of our age difference and I feel that I am a better person for having known him. I miss him terribly.

The family friend was less of a blow. He was 92 and passed peacefully. But he meant something to me as a memory of my childhood. My parents used to Square Dance (mock away I won’t resent you) and they met many solid friendships through it via conventions at Campgrounds every Summer and retreats in Winter. I can think of 5 or 6 families that I met on those occasions and the many lasting friendships with their children that I cherish now. Frank was one of the ones that stands out in my mind the most. A father of 5 awesome kids and a all-around wonderful family man, he represents an era gone by to me. I was so upset that I wasn’t able to go to his funeral. Not being able to attend funerals is one aspect of the Pandemic that is hard to reconcile.

The news that my best friend in the world contracted Covid absolutely floored me. The news may have numbed us with all of the constant talk and actual people can fade into just statistics but by now most of us know someone who has contracted it. Sadly, many of us have lost someone to it. We always hear about those people in the high-risk category. My friend is in it. He’s a big, strong man but he’s overweight. He has a heart condition. He is always tired and his immune system is vulnerable. When I heard the news, I won’t sugarcoat it, I had some very bad thoughts about worse case scenarios. And for his daughter, whom I love like my own daughter…her diagnosis scared the ever loving shit out of me. Fast-forward to today, everyone is on the mend. That is a huge relief. But I was scared.

If you are reading this, I want you to know that I care about you and I hope you never have to endure a weekend like I had last week. Tell those close to you how you feel. Make phone calls. Send emails. Don’t put yourself in a position where you know that you could have done more. We’re social creatures and we need each other more than ever.