I responded to his text by saying that I had emailed everyone on the church distribution list a You Tube link earlier that morning. I met the guy with the camera at church on Saturday to record the service. No one else was present.
My friend responded that he had not checked his inbox. A few minutes later, he called to say that something was wrong with his email. He couldn’t access anything. All he could see was gobbledygook. For the most part, his computer screen was black.
What I know about resolving computer issues is next to nothing. The only thing I’ve learned, after having reached out to my daughter multiple times, is that sometimes if you turn-off and restart the computer, it often resolves the difficulty.
I could tell from my friend’s response that he was doubtful. He initially said, “I’ve already done that?” He added: “I’ll do it again.” I suspected that he probably had clicked off-of email and then back on again. A couple of minutes later, he texted: “FYI, it worked! You and your daughter are geniuses!!” I smiled.
Later in the day, a friend asked by phone if I had seen the email she sent me several days before. I had not. For some reason my computer hasn’t shown receipt of any email in over a week. The inquiring friend had attached an article published by The New York Times. The article was mostly about Dr. Sylvie de Souza and the observations she’s made at Brooklyn Hospital Center. I later accessed the email through my phone. It has not yet appeared on my computer. I guess I’ll need to telephone my daughter for assistance. And yes, I have turned my computer off and back on again.
Dr. Sylvie de Souza heads the emergency department at the hospital where she has trudged in clogs between the emergency department and a tent outside, keeping a sharp eye on the trainee doctors, nurses and other staff members who would screen nearly 100 walk in patients for the coronavirus that day. The article was entitled: “We’re in Disaster Mode: Courage Inside a Brooklyn Hospital Confronting Coronavirus”. The article was written by Sheri Fink, New York Times and published on March 26, 2020. The subtitle of the article was: “Test kits and protective gear have been in short supply, doctors are falling sick, and every day life gets more difficult. But the staff keeps showing up.” You can find the articles through this link: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/26/nyregion/coronavirus-brooklyn-hospital.html
Reportedly, the 175-year-old-hospital was in place to care for the Civil War wounded and was one of the places where Walt Whitman brought peaches and poems to comfort those in care. Whitman was 42-years old when the Civil War stated. During the early years of the war, he had hoped the war would soon be over. His younger brother George was one of the first to enlist. He signed-on with the Union Army in 1861.
In December 1862, a newspaper published a list of wounded soldiers. George Whitman was one of the names included. Walt immediately set out to locate his brother. Perhaps it was the memory of that experience that served as the template five years later for his poignant words in, “The Dresser” It was later entitled: “The Wounded Dresser”.
“Thus in silence, in dream’s projections,
Returning, resuming, I thread my way through hospitals;
The hurt and the wounded I pacify with soothing hand,
I sit by the restless all the dark night – some are so young;
Some suffer much – I recall the experience sweet and sad;
(Many a soldier’s loving arms about this neck have cross’d and rested,
Many a soldier’s kiss dwells on these bearded lips”.
-Walt Whitman
Coincidentially, Brooklyn Hospital Center is the place of birth for Dr. Anthony Fauci, the White House adviser who currently warns that the coronavirus could kill as many as 200,000 Americans.
I encourage you to read The New York Times story. It is simply a statement of facts and highlights the courageous determination of doctors, nurses and hospital staff who knowing put themselves and potentially their families at risk, while they respond to an innate calling to attend to the needs of the ill.
On Saturday, I visited by telephone with a friend who spent several days as a patient in ICU fighting the Coronavirus. He is far from being as good as new, but he is thankful for surviving the illness. He is no longer contagious, and reports that he tires easily and his life is much slower paced than ever before.
Yesterday, my brother mentioned that he had seen a Facebook posting earlier in the day asking for prayer support for and lady we both know. She is decades younger than either of us. She is hospitalized with the Coronavirus.
Obviously, the plight in which the world finds itself, is of gravest concern. How can folks fail to take the need for social distancing and precautionary measures seriously? Low flying military planes are now the mechanism for keeping the beaches cleared of people looking for fun in the sun in Florida. The crowded beaches were filled with folks scoffing at the warnings and walking past caution streamers and signage that no one was allowed on the beach.
Perhaps it would work best for all of us if we reset the computers within our brains and hit the reset button. Instead of complaining about extended “stay-in-place” precautions, why not be grateful that we have an opportunity to do our part. If we fail to take protective measures seriously, we may become a statistic that will eventually encapsulate the deathtoll for COVID-19?
All My Best!
Don