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newstfionline · 3 years ago

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Tuesday, August 24, 2021

Portland protests see clashes between far-right, far-left groups (Reuters) Protests by rival far-right and left-wing groups in Portland descended into violence on Sunday, as the opposing sides engaged in clashes and at least one man was arrested for firing a gun at demonstrators. Nobody was hurt in an exchange of gunfire—and by Sunday evening there was no word on any injuries in numerous other skirmishes that saw opposing sides brawling, dousing each other in what appeared to be bear spray and breaking car windows of rivals. Police Chief Chuck Lovell said during a briefing on Friday that officers would not necessarily intervene to break up fights between the groups. But he added that “just because arrests are not made at the scene when tensions are high, does not mean that people won’t be charged with crimes.”

Henri hurls rain as system settles atop swamped Northeast (AP) The slow-rolling system named Henri is taking its time drenching the Northeast with rain, lingering early Monday atop a region made swampy by the storm’s relentless downpour. Henri, which made landfall as a tropical storm Sunday afternoon in Rhode Island, has moved northwest through Connecticut. It hurled rain westward far before its arrival, flooding areas as far southwest as New Jersey before pelting northeast Pennsylvania, even as it took on tropical depression status. Over 140,000 homes lost power, and deluges of rain closed bridges, swamped roads and left some people stranded in their vehicles.

Classes starting, but international students failing to get U.S. visas (Reuters) Kofi Owusu occasionally waits outside the U.S. embassy in Accra to ask fellow students what they have done to secure a timely visa appointment. Classes for his master’s program at Villanova University in Pennsylvania are scheduled to start Monday, but his in-person interview appointment for a first-time U.S. student visa is still nine months away. It’s the second time the political science student from Ghana won’t make it to the United States in time for school. Visa processing is delayed as U.S. embassies and consulates operate at reduced capacity around the world due to the COVID-19 pandemic, leaving some students abroad unable to make it for the start of the academic year. The wait and the hassle threaten both the country’s standing as a preferred choice for international students and their economic contribution of around $40 billion annually to many universities and local economies. New international student enrollment in the United States dropped 43% in fall 2020 from the year prior, months after COVID sent the world into lockdown. The number of new students who actually made it onto campus in person declined by 72%, according to an enrollment survey by the Institute of International Education (IIE).

FDA approves Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine (Bloomberg) The pioneering coronavirus vaccine made by pharmaceutical companies BioNTech and Pfizer was granted full approval by U.S. regulators. The government imprimatur is expected to trigger a flood of mandates by municipalities, agencies and private employers that had been waiting for the Food and Drug Administration sign-off. Following the announcement, the Pentagon said it would make vaccinations mandatory for military personnel worldwide and President Joe Biden called for mandates by companies.

Hospitals and Insurers Didn’t Want You to See Their Prices (NYT) This year, the federal government ordered hospitals to begin publishing a prized secret: a complete list of the prices they negotiate with private insurers. The insurers’ trade association had called the rule unconstitutional and said it would “undermine competitive negotiations.” Four hospital associations jointly sued the government to block it, and appealed when they lost. They lost again, and seven months later, many hospitals are simply ignoring the requirement and posting nothing. But data from the hospitals that have complied hints at why the powerful industries wanted this information to remain hidden. It shows hospitals are charging patients wildly different amounts for the same basic services: procedures as simple as an X-ray or a pregnancy test. And in many cases, insured patients are getting prices that are higher than they would if they pretended to have no coverage at all. This secrecy has allowed hospitals to tell patients that they are getting “steep” discounts, while still charging them many times what a public program like Medicare is willing to pay.

‘A Beautiful Feeling’: Refugee Women In Germany Learn The Joy Of Riding Bikes (NPR) Like most Americans, I learned to ride a bike as a kid. I still remember the glee after learning how to ride a bike on a subdivision road where I grew up in Florida. But girls around the world don’t always get to experience the joy of a first bike ride. In some countries, conservative societies frown upon women and girls who ride bikes—it’s not considered dignified or appropriate—and gives a girl too much independence. Joumana Seif, a Syrian lawyer and activist, recalls riding a bike as an 11-year-old in the capital city of Damascus. “For the people [watching on the street], and even for the children, it was shocking to them that I was riding a bike. They started to say, ‘Oh, shame on you, you are a girl riding a bike,’” Seif says. “It just wasn’t in our culture.” But it’s never too late to learn. In Germany, a nonprofit group called Bikeygees is teaching refugee women from countries such as Iran, Iraq and Syria how to ride. Since the group first started, it has taught 1,100 women how to ride a bike, says founder Annette Krüger. “It is possible to change the life of a woman in two hours. It is really magical,” says Krüger, an avid cyclist. “It’s a beautiful feeling when a person is riding a bike,” one refugee says with a broad grin.

Gunfire at Kabul airport kills 1 amid chaotic evacuations (AP/Foreign Policy) A firefight at one of the gates of Kabul’s international airport killed at least one Afghan soldier early Monday, German officials said, the latest chaos to engulf Western efforts to evacuate those fleeing the Taliban takeover of the country. The shooting at the airport came as the Taliban sent fighters north of the capital to eliminate pockets of armed resistance to their lightning takeover earlier this month. The Taliban said they retook three districts seized by opponents the day before and had surrounded Panjshir, the last province that remains out of their control. The tragic scenes around the airport have transfixed the world. Afghans poured onto the tarmac last week and some clung to a U.S. military transport plane as it took off, later plunging to their deaths. At least seven people died that day, in addition to the seven killed Sunday. Tens of thousands of people—Americans, other foreigners and Afghans who assisted in the war effort—are still waiting to join the airlift, which has been slowed by security issues and U.S. bureaucracy hurdles. Meanwhile, Afghanistan faces a quickly deepening economic crisis, with financial hardships increasingly affecting those in Kabul and other cities. Banks remain closed, food prices are rising, and the value of the local currency has plummeted. The suspension of commercial flights to Kabul’s international airport has in some ways exacerbated the crisis, halting the flow of some medical supplies and aid.

US special operations forces race to save former Afghan comrades in jeopardy (ABC News) Current and former U.S. military special operations and intelligence community operatives are using their own networks of contacts to get elite Afghan soldiers, intelligence assets and interpreters to safety as they’ve become increasingly disillusioned and fed up with the U.S. government-led evacuation effort in Kabul, ABC News has learned. One informal group, dubbed “Task Force Pineapple,” began as a frantic effort last weekend to get one former Afghan commando into Hamid Karzai International Airport as he was being hunted by Taliban who were texting him death threats. They knew he had worked with U.S. Special Forces and the elite SEAL Team Six for a dozen years, targeting Taliban leadership, and was therefore at high risk of reprisal. The former elite commando was finally pulled into the U.S. security perimeter at the airport, where he shouted the password “pineapple” to American troops at the checkpoint. Two days later, the group of his American friends and comrades also helped get his family inside the airport to join him. Other former members of the military and CIA have consolidated their own efforts with a separate group calling itself “Task Force Dunkirk,” a reference to the massive evacuation of British and other Allied forces from France in 1940 under threat of the Nazi juggernaut. Task Force Dunkirk and the groups it has banded together with have helped get at least 83 at-risk Afghans out of the country.

Lebanese hospitals at breaking point as everything runs out (AP) Drenched in sweat, doctors check patients lying on stretchers in the reception area of Lebanon’s largest public hospital. Air conditioners are turned off, except in operating rooms and storage units, to save on fuel. Medics scramble to find alternatives to saline solutions after the hospital ran out. The shortages are overwhelming, the medical staff exhausted. And with a new surge in coronavirus cases, Lebanon’s hospitals are at a breaking point. The country’s health sector is a casualty of the multiple crises that have plunged Lebanon into a downward spiral—a financial and economic meltdown, compounded by a complete failure of the government, runaway corruption and a pandemic that isn’t going away. The collapse is all the more dramatic since only a few years ago, Lebanon was a leader in medical care in the Arab world. The region’s rich and famous came to this small Mideast nation of 6 million for everything, from major hospital procedures to plastic surgeries.

China changes law to allow married couples to have three kids (NY Post) China will now allow married couples to legally have a third kid amid concerns that its shrinking number of working-age people will threaten the country’s future prosperity and global influence. China has tried for decades to control the population, beginning with a policy imposed in 1979 that strictly limited couples to one child. Couples who didn’t follow the rule faced fines or loss of jobs—and in some cases, mothers were forced to undergo abortions. A preference for sons also led parents to kill baby girls, causing a massive imbalance in the sex ratio. The number of working-age people, meanwhile, has fallen over the past decade and the population has barely grown, adding more strain to an aging society. With growing fears that the country would grow old before it became wealthy, the family planning rules were changed for the first time in 2015 to allow two children.

Cases up down under (CNN) Australia, like China, New Zealand, and some other countries, has attempted to completely eradicate Covid-19 inside its borders. The strategy had largely worked until recently; Australia has just 44,026 confirmed Covid-19 cases and 981 deaths. But several major cities, including Sydney, Melbourne, and the capital Canberra, are again under lockdown as authorities struggle to contain an outbreak of the Delta variant. On Saturday, thousands took to the streets of Melbourne and Sydney to protest the long lockdowns; hundreds were arrested, and at least seven police officers were injured during violent clashes. In an opinion piece published Sunday, Prime Minister Scott Morrison hinted at an end to the country’s zero Covid-19 infections strategy, but warned Australians to expect a rise in infections as restrictions relax.

#headlines #news

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 years ago

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Private equity's healthcare playbook is terrifying

I was really struck by a biting insight on the state of US healthcare in a recent episode of the excellent Arm and a Leg podcast: America funds healthcare like a restaurant (dependent on optional "Sunday brunches" AKA elective procedure)...

https://armandalegshow.com/episode/the-severe-very-weird-recession-in-health-care-and-what-it-means-to-our-wallets/

But we really need healthcare that's funded like a fire-department (lots of reserve capacity to cope with rare, but catastrophic problems).

Where did the reserve capacity in US healthcare go? Into the pockets of private equity, an "investment" system that loads up useful, functioning real-economy businesses with debt, extracts all their value, and then leaves them to fail.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/04/04/a-mind-forever-voyaging/#prop-bets

The private equity playbook is slippery and hard to get your head around because it combines out-and-out fraud with incredibly dull financial minutiae. It's like the Softbank/Uber/Doordash grift.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/18/code-is-speech/#schadenpizza

First, you have to overcome the scheme's stultifying complexity, and then you find yourself questioning your own comprehension because once you cut through the performative dullness of the scheme, it seems like a naked fraud. Could all these billions REALLY just be fraud?

Yup.

Today's must-read long-read is Heather Perlberg's pitiless biopsy of the role of private equity in destroying the US health-care system, a metastatic cancer that has left it weak and unable to cope.

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/features/2020-05-20/private-equity-is-ruining-health-care-covid-is-making-it-worse

Here's how the con works. The American Medical Association prohibits non-doctors from profiting from medicine, so PE maintains the pretense that what it owns is a practice's "nonclinical" assets - administration, supplies, support staff, etc.

Externally, PE companies swear they're not involved in medical decisions. But when PE barons like Matt Jameson (BlueMountain Capital) pitch doctors behind closed doors, they say things like "It’s not going to be something where clinical is completely not touched."

Here's what that looks like: Doctors are pressured to advise patients to get more lucrative procedures. They see more patients/day. Patients are sent home with open wounds and come back the next day for stitches so they generate two bills.

Doctors are replaced with "physicians' assistants" - the pretence is that they're under a docs' supervision, even when the doc is in another city. These non-docs miss deadly skin cancers (when my daughter went to a PE-owned ER for a broken collarbone, she never saw a doc).

Docs are nickel-and-dimed on both procedures and administration: "A doctor at Advanced Dermatology says that waiting for corporate approvals means his office is routinely left without enough gauze, antiseptic solution, and toilet paper."

PE management is supposed to create economies of scale by merging mulitple practices and hospitals. In practice, these are actually diseconomies of scale: every lab, hospital and doctor's office in my neighborhood is owned by one PE group.

They've merged all the privacy and conset docs. Here's how that works: when you go to any medical facility, you get a "consent" form that covers everything any of the practices nationwide do. Getting blood drawn? You have to give blanket consent to all of it.

Literally. They asked me to consent to being involuntarily sedated, put in restraint, having surgery performed without my further consent, having the procedures videoed, and having those videos used "for any purpose."

And the privacy policy? You get a mag-strip to sign on.

"What's this?"

"It says you've read the privacy policy."

"Where's the privacy policy?"

Sighs, prints a doc, hands me a sheet. It has one sentence: I HAVE READ THE PRIVACY POLICY.

"This is the privacy policy"

The one administrative task PE excels at is negotiating higher rates with insurers.

But even with those higher rates, the practices lose money. But that's a feature, not a bug.

The practices lose money because they're heavily indebted, because PE companies take out huge loans against the practice's future incomes, and pay their investors giant special dividends out of the debt. When the practices default, they're sold to other PE companies.

Those companies take out even more debt, leaving the practices even more desperate, cutting more corners. Advanced Dermatology, a giant, PE-backed dermatology chain, had a pathological pathologist, Matt Leavitt, who gobbled meth while misdiagnosing medical conditions.

Dermatologists are hard hit by the crisis. They're prime targets for PE looting (apart from skin cancer, dermatology is almost all "Sunday brunch" medicine - elective, inessential, and thus not allowed to operate during lockdown).

So they're debt-loaded and shuttered, with payments to make. That's why Dr.Greg Morganroth, CEO of California Skin Institute, gave a webinar telling docs that they should consider themselves "essential" during the crisis and keep administering botox to boomers.

Eventually, it's crumble, just like all the other PE success stories, from Sears to Toys R Us. As U Connecticut prof Dr Jane Grant-Kels said, "There’s a limit to how much money you can make when you’re sticking knives into human skin for profit.”

And when it does, the US health system will be where the US restaurant system is: totally dependent on Sunday brunches that cannot resume for years to come, and circling the drain waiting for them to come back.

#pluralistic

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robert-c · 4 years ago

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The Real Causes Behind the Opiate Crisis

Like all problems in the USA today they are much more complex than people want to believe. The simple (even simplistic) answer is about all most people are willing to entertain, especially if it reinforces some previously held (over simplified) belief.

I will start by noting that no one seemed to care until a lot of white middle class folks started dying of overdoses. But let’s move on to real causes before the idea that a simple solution (like limiting the amount of prescriptions a doctor can write) gains too much traction.

It has already come out that some of the big drug companies were able to hide just how addictive their opioid pain management drugs were. Some of that was due to overly relaxed regulations, some by outright deception. That is bad enough, but physical addiction is still dependent upon the length of time the drug is taken.

So let’s take an example of someone who has worked most of their life in retail situations, required to stand for extended periods of time. By middle age this person has chronic back problems due to degenerative disc disease. Although insured (thanks only to Obamacare), the insurance company keeps giving, then rescinding, approval for back surgery for over a year. Perhaps they are hoping their insured will go away, find another carrier, anything to keep them from being on the hook for the surgery costs.

All during this year the pain continues to get worse and pain pills become the only way to go to work and get through a day. The surgery finally gets performed and then there is a post-operative period of pain management. Of course the patient is addicted to the opioids at this point and it is difficult to wean off them. Those who don’t get off the drugs have a high chance of overdosing.

This story is true and sadly not unique. So the two major forces in our economy preventing movement forward with sweeping health care reform are also complicit in the opiate crisis; the drug companies who make more money providing treatments instead of cures, and the insurance companies who make more money if they can just make sure someone else has to follow through on the promise of paying for covered expenses.

The cost to manufacture opiates is low, making them a high profit item. In addition, opiates are extremely effective at managing most pain, and that’s how most of us tell if we are well or not. So the drug companies have a profitable and simple treatment (again, NOT cure) which suits their objectives just fine. In addition to delaying costly procedures, the insurance company can encourage doctors in their network to limit time with each patient (or face loss of membership in the network), which forces the doctors into the position of providing the most expedient care, which usually means symptom alleviation or pain management.

THIS, right here, is the reason that profit based health care is unworkable as a societal solution. So called “socialized medicine” has NOT been the universal failure that conservatives would have us believe. There are as many variations on national healthcare as there are nations using some form of it. We’re the only industrialized nation in the world with a high percentage of the population without access to healthcare (unless acute and life threatening), and the one with the highest prices for prescription drugs. But, hey, if you’re rich your elective surgery or hypochondriac need for an MRI can put you ahead of the life threatening conditions of others. Does THAT sound like a good system? If you aren’t one of the rich?

Some people like to make the pursuit of profit and private enterprise sound like some commandment from God. Perhaps a tiny bit of history might be appropriate. In the time of the Roman Empire medical knowledge was actually pretty advanced, especially compared to the five to ten centuries that followed its collapse. This medical knowledge and its practitioners were only available to the rich. The poor who became ill were allowed to languish near the temples of various healing gods and goddesses, but actual care and treatment was not available. As Christianity began to sweep the Roman Empire “hospitals” were established where the sick could receive care. Sometimes this was little more than someone to put a cool cloth on their head, but as physicians of the day became Christians they lent their skills to the treatment of the sick and indigent, of course at no charge.

So you see, the idea of healthcare without the element of profit is actually quite old and not at all inconsistent with the original teachings of Christianity. Actually, it makes today’s megachurch pastors look more like the Philistines than any followers of Jesus’ actual teachings.

But then this is only about the opioid crisis, except that like most of our problems, they are larger and more interconnected than we would like to believe.

#opiate crisis #healthcare #socialized medicine #big pharma #Insurance

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noyaibamovies · 4 years ago

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The world sent India millions in Covid aid. Why is it not reaching those who need it most?

https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1187/Home/__Demon_Slayer_Kimetsu_no_Yaiba_the_Movie_Mugen_Train_ https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1188/Home/10HD https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1189/Home/___2020_ https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1191/Home/_HK_Demon_Slayer_Kimetsu_no_Yaiba_2020_1080P https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1192/Home/___2020_ https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1193/Home/ZH_2020_1080p720p https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1196/Home/2020_____HD4K https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1197/Home/HK___Kimetsu_no_Yaiba_Mugen_ResshaHen_ https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1198/Home/_Kimetsu_no_YaibaHD https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1200/Home/2020 https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1201/Home/_1080P2020HD https://tcea.instructure.com/eportfolios/1202/Home/TW__2020HD1080PNew Delhi (CNN)As India's Covid-19 crisis tipped past breaking point last month, dozens of countries pledged critical aid.

Planeloads of ventilators, oxygen supplies and antiviral drugs began arriving last week, with photos showing massive parcels being unloaded at New Delhi airport. There's just one problem: for many days, much of the cargo sat in airport hangars as hospitals on the ground pleaded for more provisions. Medical workers and local officials are still reporting the same devastating shortages that have strained the health care system for weeks now -- raising questions, even among foreign donors, of where the aid is going. In a US State Department news briefing on Friday, a reporter asked where the US aid was, demanding "accountability for US taxpayers' money," according to the briefing transcript. "Is there anything being done to check on how it is being distributed, the aid that we are sending?" the reporter asked.

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The Indian government issued a strong denial of any delay on Tuesday evening, saying it had installed a "streamlined mechanism" for allocating aid. Nearly 4 million donated items, spanning 24 categories, have already been distributed to 38 health care facilities across the country, the Health Ministry said in a statement. But on the ground, many state and local authorities claim there has been little to no communication from the central government on how or when they would receive relief. "We sent delegations to (the government) for clarity on supplies of (oxygen), drugs and vaccination drive but were not spoken to in clarity from the Union Government," said Raghu Sharma, health minister of Rajasthan state, on Tuesday. "Regarding the import or foreign aid, no information or supply details have been shared with the state government." The central government has "kept states in the dark during the pandemic," he added, calling for a more "transparent environment." The Health Ministry said on Tuesday that it had distributed aid to two hospitals in Rajasthan, in the cities of Jodhpur and Jaipur. There are a number of feasible reasons for the delay: unnecessary bureaucracy, human error, or time-consuming protocol. But to those on the ground, such possible explanations matter little; all they want is for the government to take quicker action and get the aid to their ICU wards, where thousands are dying every day.

India reported 382,315 new coronavirus cases on Wednesday and 3,780 virus-related deaths, according to the Health Ministry. The country has now recorded more than 20.6 million cases since the pandemic began. Oxygen shortages are particularly pronounced in the union territory of Delhi, which does not produce its own oxygen and relies on the central government to send allocations from different manufacturers and states. "It's the duty of the government to provide us oxygen," said Dr. S.C.L. Gupta, director of Batra Hospital in the capital New Delhi. At least 12 patients, including a doctor, died at Batra Hospital on Saturday after it ran out of oxygen. Gupta said hospital staff spent the day telling authorities they only had a few hours of oxygen left; toward the end, they had to rely on oxygen provided by patients' families. "Patients are dying in front of us," Gupta said. "I'm sorry we cannot save you." A logistical nightmare

https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117387/Home/______Akari_Kit https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117389/Home/2020_HD https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117390/Home/2020HK_ https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117380/Home/2020 https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117381/Home/_1080P2020HD https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117384/Home/TW__2020HD1080P https://lulunaulia400.medium.com/ https://kimetsunoyaiba801605425.wordpress.com/the-world-sent-india-millions-in-covid-aid-why-is-it-not-reaching-those-who-need-it-most/ https://kimetsunoyaiba801605425.wordpress.com/state-local-health-orders-end-tuesday-as-utah-reaches-pandemic-endgame/ https://kimetsunoyaiba801605425.wordpress.com/pfizer-will-ask-for-approval-to-give-covid-19-vaccine-to-children-ages-2-to-11/ https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117527/Home/The_world_sent_India_millions_in_Covid_aid_Why_is_it_not_reaching_those_who_need_it_most https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117530/Home/State_local_health_orders_end_Tuesday_as_Utah_reaches_pandemic_endgame https://tea.instructure.com/eportfolios/117533/Home/Pfizer_Will_Ask_For_Approval_To_Give_COVID19_Vaccine_To_Children_Ages_2_to_11 One distribution problem highlighted by Indian media is simply that the government did not have protocols in place before receiving the aid, and had to quickly cobble together guidelines on allocation and coordination. It took the government seven days to create a mechanism to distribute supplies to states, the Health Ministry said in a news release on Tuesday. They began working on the plan on April 26, and only issued their Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) -- guidelines on how to distribute aid -- on May 2. The release did not state what day the distribution of aid began. In those seven days, more than 23,000 Indians died of Covid-19.

Even with the SOP issued, the process of distribution is complex, with room for further delay. Once the aid arrives in India, it is received by the Indian Red Cross Society, which works closely with the government. The Red Cross works with customs to approve the goods, the Health Ministry said, adding that customs is "working 24 x 7 to fast track and clear the goods on arrival." After being cleared, the items are handed to the ministry and a government-owned health care product manufacturer called HLL Lifecare, which handles transportation of aid to its final destination. But it's a massive logistical undertaking because "the materials from abroad are currently coming in different numbers, specifications and at different times," the ministry said in its Tuesday release. A number of problems might arise, it said: "in many cases," the type or number of aid supplies don't match the inventory list provided by the foreign donor. Authorities then have to waste precious time "reconciling (discrepancies) at the airport" while the aid sits idle, according to the release. Only when the paperwork is updated with the correct details can authorities move forward with distribution.

India is a huge country, home to 1.3 billion people, and most of the foreign aid is being flown to New Delhi -- meaning much of it then has to be redistributed to far-flung states. The military has been deployed to help with this process, with the air force flying supplies to various cities and making overseas flights, too. States with high caseloads, or those that are regional medical hubs, will be prioritized, the Health Ministry said on Tuesday. Donations are also allocated to states with fewer resources or those in remote areas. It's unclear how much aid is still being processed, but images began emerging this week of supplies finally arriving on the ground. The air force airlifted the "first batch" of 450 oxygen cylinders from the United Kingdom to Chennai on Tuesday, according to the city's customs authority. Meanwhile, 350 oxygen concentrators from Hong Kong are being sent to Mumbai on Wednesday. These supplies will only provide a modicum of relief, however. As of Tuesday, Chennai had more than 32,000 active cases, while Mumbai had over 56,000. Hospitals in both cities are so under-resourced and the situation so dire that patients are dying by the dozen. Desperate patients wait for oxygen As the government scrambles to get backlogged aid to desperate states, it is also working to increase domestic oxygen production. And at every turn, federal authorities have claimed they have enough supplies to meet states' demands. "The (daily) production of oxygen in the country was 5,700 metric tons (6,283 tons) on August 1, 2020, which has now increased to around 9,000 metric tons (9,920 tons)," a Health Ministry spokesperson said at a news conference on Monday. Last month, the ministry said it had 50,000 metric tons (55,115 tons) in surplus oxygen stocks. On Monday, the ministry spokesperson again asserted, "There is enough oxygen available in the country." But doctors, officials and desperate patients tell a very different story. In a hospital in Meerut, a city in Uttar Pradesh, one family has worked around the clock to care for their 55-year-old mother in the intensive care unit. The family told CNN this week she had been in the hospital for six days before getting a ventilator, and they had to bring their own oxygen cylinder. At one point, her vitals began dropping dangerously; her sons pumped her chest frantically, crying out and clutching her hands as family members wailed next to the bed. A doctor was able to help stabilize the woman -- but later, she flatlined again. This time, she could not be revived; her body was left in the ICU for nearly an hour before it was moved. The same scenes are playing out in nearly every major city. In New Delhi, the situation has deteriorated so badly that India's Supreme Court ordered the central government to address the oxygen shortages there by the end of Monday. Similar hearings have taken place in the Delhi High Court. "Do you mean we will shut our eyes to the people dying in Delhi?" the court told the central government on Saturday, according to CNN affiliate CNN-News18. "Enough is enough."

Some state authorities, too, have come under fire for their handling of the oxygen crisis. A high court in Uttar Pradesh demanded "immediate remedial measures," pointing to specific instances of patients dying due to oxygen shortages. "Death of Covid patients just for non supplying of oxygen to the hospitals is a criminal act and not less than a genocide by those who have been entrusted the task to ensure continuous procurement and supply chain of the liquid medical oxygen," the court said on Tuesday. The central government has responded by ramping up emergency measures. Two of five on-site oxygen plants earmarked for Delhi hospitals would be operational on Wednesday, the Health Ministry said on Twitter. The government plans to set up 500 plants across the country within three months, according to a ministry statement. This week, some of these increased oxygen supplies are being sent to various hard-hit states by rail, in what has been dubbed the "oxygen express."

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phroyd · 5 years ago

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Five months after the novel coronavirus was first detected in the United States, a record surge in new cases is the clearest sign yet of the country’s historic failure to control the virus — exposing a crisis in governance extending from the Oval Office to state capitals to city councils.

President Trump — who has repeatedly downplayed the virus, sidelined experts and misled Americans about its dangers and potential cures — now finds his presidency wracked by an inability to shepherd the country through its worst public health calamity in a century. The dysfunction that has long characterized Trump’s White House has been particularly ill-suited for a viral outbreak that requires precision, focus and steady leadership, according to public health experts, administration officials and lawmakers from both parties.

As case numbers began rising again, Trump has held rallies defying public health guidelines, mused about slowing down testing for the virus, criticized people wearing masks and embraced the racially offensive “kung flu” nickname for a disease that has killed at least 123,000 Americans.

A similarly garbled message for the country has also been put forward by the president’s top aides and other senior administration officials, who contradict one another on a daily basis. On Friday, Vice President Pence used the first White House coronavirus task force briefing in almost two months to praise Trump’s handling of the virus and cast aside concerns about a record spike in new infections.

“We have made a truly remarkable progress in moving our nation forward,” Pence said, a few minutes after announcing that more than 2.5 million Americans had contracted the coronavirus. “We’ve all seen the encouraging news as we open up America again.”

Later Friday, the United States recorded more than 40,000 new coronavirus cases — its largest one-day total.

It was the latest example of whiplash from the Trump administration, which has struggled to put forward a consistent message about the pandemic. While public health experts urge caution and preventive measures such as mask-wearing and social distancing, Trump, Pence and other top aides repeatedly flout their advice, leaving confused Americans struggling to determine who to believe.

“They’re creating a cognitive dissonance in the country,” one former senior administration official said. “It’s more than them being asleep at the wheel. They’re confusing people at this point when we need to be united.”

This portrait of a nation in crisis — and its failure to contain an epic pandemic — is based on interviews with 47 administration officials, lawmakers at the national and state level, congressional staff, federal and local health officials, public health experts and other current and former officials involved in the bungled and confused response.

America’s position as the world’s leader in coronavirus cases and deaths is in large part the result of human error, and the still-rising caseload stands as a stark reminder of the blunders that have characterized the national response. Trump’s actions, and his position in the Oval Office, make him a central figure in any assessment of the country’s handling of the outbreak.

As the White House task force scaled back its meetings and stopped its public briefings in May and June, Trump seized the national spotlight and used it to shift the country’s focus from the virus to an economic comeback he branded the “TRANSITION TO GREATNESS.”

Trump’s public mentions of the coronavirus declined by two-thirds between April and early June. When he did discuss the pandemic, it was often to float misinformation about treatments, masks and testing — science-defying views that have been embraced by his supporters and top Republican lawmakers.

The White House has blocked Anthony S. Fauci, the nation’s top infectious-disease expert and director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, from some appearances that he has requested to do in recent weeks, according to two people familiar with the matter. White House aides have argued that television interviewers often try to goad Fauci into criticizing the president or the administration’s approach, and that Fauci is not always good about “staying on message,” in the words of a senior administration official. Aides did allow Fauci to appear on CNN recently for a town hall, the official said.

White House officials have battled for weeks over whether to hold the public coronavirus briefing, with some arguing to instead focus on other issues, such as the economy.

As local officials struggled to enforce stay-at-home orders and other restrictions, the virus continued to circulate throughout a country riven by partisan politics and devoid of a national public health strategy, said Max Skidmore, a political scientist at the University of Missouri at Kansas City and author of a book on presidential leadership during health crises.

“We’re the only country in the world that has politicized the approach to a pandemic,” he said.

Now, covid-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus, is advancing at an accelerated pace in the United States, even as other countries reopen their economies after getting their outbreaks under control. European diplomats are poised to approve an agreement that will reopen the European Union to travel from many countries but not American tourists, because the coronavirus is still raging in the United States.

In contrast, states from Arizona to Florida are pausing or reversing their attempts to reopen their economies.

The new peak in cases — coming so quickly after the first and with just months to go before a presidential election and an impending flu season — has alarmed public health experts and the president’s political allies.

“These epidemics are going to be hard to get under control,” said Scott Gottlieb, the former commissioner of the Food and Drug Administration and an informal adviser to the Trump administration. He said he expects deaths to soon climb to more than 1,000 per day again. “It’s going to continue to spread until you do something to intervene. I’m not sure we are taking enough forceful action to break the trend right now.”

The president has dramatically scaled back the number of coronavirus meetings on his schedule in recent weeks, instead holding long meetings on polling and endorsements, his reelection campaign, the planned Republican National Convention in Jacksonville, Fla., the economy and other topics, according to two advisers, who, like others, spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss internal deliberations.

While Pence continues to convene weekly calls with governors to discuss coronavirus testing, supplies and other issues, Trump no longer participates, the advisers said. Trump now receives his updates on the coronavirus effort from Pence, officials said.

Trump’s intense focus on his campaign comes as he has been sliding in public polling and trailing Democratic rival Joe Biden, who is winning support from voters who disapprove of the president’s handling of the pandemic and the accompanying economic recession. Some Republican officials have tried to advise the president to focus more intently on managing the public health crisis at hand, arguing that doing so would help his political standing — and theirs — while also speeding along the economic recovery.

But Trump has shown little indication that he plans to re-engage on shepherding a national coronavirus response in the wake of surging cases. He has expressed frustration to aides that he was criticized for a lack of adequate testing and is now not being given enough credit for the 500,000 daily tests that are currently being conducted, officials said. Trump has repeatedly claimed that the caseload is only going up because of the increasing number of tests, and he has openly discussed reducing testing.

“The number of ChinaVirus cases goes up, because of GREAT TESTING, while the number of deaths (mortality rate), goes way down,” Trump wrote Thursday on Twitter.

In several states, where hospitalizations and positivity rates are sharply increasing, Trump’s words offer little comfort to governors trying to figure out how to respond to a burgeoning crisis.

Some states are still struggling to procure testing kits and supplies for the kits, including swabs, and have pleaded for the federal government to play a larger role in coordinating purchases, resolving supply shortages and distributing the tests. Doctors and health-care facilities are still grappling with shortages of personal protective equipment (PPE), including private doctors’ offices that cannot perform routine procedures safely because they do not have the necessary equipment, according to the American Medical Association.

“It is not clear to us how the administration has distributed PPE across the country during the pandemic, but having a single national coordinated strategy would help ensure that states, hospitals, physician offices and other facilities have a single, centralized authority to work through to acquire essential PPE,” said American Medical Association President Susan R. Bailey.

Politicization of the pandemic has left many Republican governors to choose between staying a doomed public health course while touting economic recovery or acting on recommendations from public health experts who Trump has dismissed.

Young people are driving a spike in coronavirus infections, officials say

In Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) has resisted calls for a statewide mask mandate, even as Florida’s cases jumped by 62 percent from its previous high of 5,511 on Wednesday to a new high of 8,942 on Friday. His argument, made publicly as recently as Thursday, is that not all parts of the state are experiencing the same level of outbreak, and therefore they should not be subject to a one-size-fits-all approach. The state announced Friday that all bars must shut down on-site consumption, three weeks after they reopened.

In Arizona, public health experts and local officials largely credit lobbying efforts by mayors for pushing Gov. Doug Ducey (R) to reverse his position and allow cities to implement mask requirements as they saw fit.

Kristen Pogreba-Brown, an epidemiologist at the University of Arizona, said she found it “disgusting” to watch politics penetrate considerations about public health precautions. She pointed in particular to issues of testing following the president’s erroneous suggestion that increased testing is to blame for the scope of the outbreak.

“The fact that we don’t have a federal testing program is pretty embarrassing, frankly,” she said, noting that her university is developing its own in-house testing system, because “we don’t have faith people can go out and get tested in the community.”

More than five months after the first test for the coronavirus was conducted in the United States, testing equipment is still being doled out based on which states manage to get federal officials on the phone to press their case. After a recent weekend that saw demand for testing outstrip capacity, the governor’s office in Arizona placed a call to the White House and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, said Daniel Ruiz, Ducey’s chief operating officer. Within 24 hours, they had secured expedited access to a rapid Roche testing machine, he said.

Some states are banding together to issue quarantine orders against visitors from regions with rising cases, further highlighting the lack of a federal standard. Conspiracy theories about masks, vaccines and social distancing have abounded, threatening to stymie local leaders’ attempts to enforce public health guidelines.

Trump’s willingness to ignore ordinances on masks and large crowds has added to the sense of confusion, public health experts said.

“Any time there is politicization of an infectious-disease response, it makes it much harder to intervene,” said Amesh Adalja, an infectious-disease expert at the Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security. People are “less likely to actually listen to public health authorities on what are the best actions to take and how to take them because they think that everything has been politicized in that there is no truth — it’s truth from Democrats or Republicans, rather than the truth,” Adalja said.

As support for masks grows, so does the political risk in not wearing them

The White House has played a central role in undermining the kind of clear and consistent messaging experts say is necessary to mount a successful public health response to a viral outbreak, current and former administration officials said.

Top aides to Pence, including his chief of staff, Marc Short, have grown increasingly skeptical of public health officials within the administration, believing they have been wrong too many times about mitigation techniques and transmission of the virus, according to three officials familiar with the matter. Short has increasingly disagreed with public health experts in coronavirus meetings, these people said.

Trump has undermined Fauci and other health experts repeatedly, publicly dismissing their views about reopening schools, professional sports and other aspects of public life.

While Fauci has been sidelined from briefing Trump and appearing on television, economic advisers such as trade adviser Peter Navarro and Larry Kudlow, director of the National Economic Council, have been given a more prominent public role. They have often used the platform to provide false assurances that the recent surges are under control.

“We’re going to have hot spots. No question. We have it now,” Kudlow said Thursday. “And, you know, Texas and parts of the South, the Carolinas, Arizona. We just have to live with that.”

Others without a background in public health, including Trump’s son-in-law, Jared Kushner, have played an outsized role in guiding the federal response. Just last month, Kushner told others involved in the response that the virus was essentially under control and that there would be no second wave, a former administration official said.

White House officials, including Kushner, Deborah Birx, coordinator of the administration’s coronavirus response, and acting chief of staff Mark Meadows met Thursday to discuss what the administration should be doing to contend with the spike in cases, a White House official said. The plan is for Birx to visit the hardest-hit states to collect more information, and for officials to redirect the therapeutic drug remdesivir to states that are surging.

The official said that Birx and Fauci are also likely to do more regional TV interviews in places where cases are surging.

The White House is also expected to record public service announcements in Spanish about the coronavirus in an attempt to reach the Hispanic community, which has been hit particularly hard by the virus. A senior White House official said top administration officials have regularly offered assistance to officials in Texas, Florida, Arizona and other states. Two administration officials said there will probably be more briefings for reporters, though many are likely to be off-camera.

The partisanship that has come to surround mask-wearing was on stark display on Capitol Hill on Friday, as House Majority Whip James E. Clyburn (D-S.C.) convened a hearing of the select subcommittee on the coronavirus crisis.

Clyburn and the other committee Democrats attended wearing masks, while the committee’s Republican members were maskless, which led to angry exchanges.

Rep. Jamie B. Raskin (D-Md.) accused Republican members who were maskless of provoking “terror and fear in your colleagues and perhaps your staff.”

Republicans, several of whom had worn masks into the hearing room before taking them off, contended that they could practice social distancing safely while seated maskless at the dais.

“We are six feet apart. We don’t need a mask,” said Rep. Mark Green (R-Tenn.), who is a physician.

Publicly, GOP lawmakers remain largely supportive of Trump’s handling of the pandemic, declining to put any blame on him or the federal response for the upward trend in infections. They generally say the decision-making responsibility now lies with state governments, and that individual citizens bear the onus for responsible behavior to hold down infections.

The CDC is sending teams to states experiencing outbreaks, rather than following the usual policy of waiting for states to ask for help. The agency has sent nearly 150 people out to about 20 states, a federal official said, including California, Arizona, Texas and Florida. It has about three dozen more staffers awaiting deployment to hot spots to provide technical assistance, epidemiological support, surveillance and contact tracing, the official said.

While Trump has attacked some Democratic governors for their handling of the virus, its recent spread in Republican-led states such as Texas, Florida, Arizona, South Carolina and Oklahoma has complicated the politics around the president’s response.

Officials in some states that have contained much of the virus’s spread have called on Republican leaders in other states to take drastic measures to get control of the disease.

“As painful as it is, you’ve got to overdo it in terms of the aggressiveness in which you shut things down,” New Jersey Gov. Phil Murphy (D) said in an interview.

While several Republican governors resisted shutdown efforts during the spring, some have begun to warn their residents that they are hardly immune.

Thomas Dobbs, Mississippi’s top health officer, told residents recently to be prepared for a lack of a hospital bed if they crash their cars or a lack of ventilators if they suffer a heart attack.

“If we’re not careful,” he said, “Mississippi will look like New York.”

Phroyd

#trump #virus #disadter

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confusedunit · 4 years ago

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The Resonance Project - Dr. Freeman

April 18th, 1998 - Crystal Resonance Test

Dr. Freeman wasn't feeling well, that morning. He'd had the worst flu of his life for the past two weeks, and was finally recovering. He knew that the exposure to samples he worked with could cause lowered a immune system, but he figured it was more that someone else at the facility had gotten him terribly ill. Probably Calhoun the last time they saw each other, with his traveling all over the complex, and his insistence on talking nonstop during the morning tram rides.

But he was recovering now, no longer contagious and cleared to return to work. Despite the test results, he still felt weak and fatigued, sipping at a flavorful soup from his usual coffee thermos. Calhoun had heard from someone, who heard from someone, who got lectured by some 'health food connoisseur' that 'bone broth' would cure all ills. Apparently, it wasn't soup. He didn't care enough to correct himself.

So here he was, sitting in a chair in the observation room, unable to run his own test. If he was honest, he felt a bit bitter about it. He'd spent his college years on his theory, and his two years at Black Mesa designing this test, and now...the first real test wasn't even being done by his own hands. He knew the restriction was for his own safety, due to the risk of radiation exposure when he was still recovering, but...still. It was the principal of the matter.

Instead it was a coworker, Professor Bailey, in the HEV suit downstairs. He had nothing against Bailey, the man was great to work with, but he'd never trained for this. It was so much more than just pushing a sample into a test laser. There were failsafes, safeguards, protocols in place that had to be followed, and Bailey didn't know most of them. His coworkers told him he was just being paranoid. But as he watched the crystal enter the laser down below, he could tell even before the alarms went off that he was right to have worried. The sample went in too fast. And it shouldn't be that shade of green.

He ignored the panic of the scientists around him, focused entirely on what he was doing, as he lunged forward to grab the intercom. "Bailey! Drop the cart and get to the door!" He shouted over the noise, watching as the helmeted man looked up to the window. "Now!"

"Dr. Freeman!" Someone was yelling at him now, and he turned to look at who it could be. Dr. Birdwell, apparently. Didn't he see he was busy? "We need to-"

Both their chairs were quickly yanked back, as the damage resistant glass in front of them shattered. He watched in awe as he heard the tones from the room on the other side, and as the shards seemed to vanish into thin air. He'd been right, about resonance based teleportation. What a scientific breakthrough. It took him a bit too long to realize that the blast had also destroyed the main console.

"We definitely can't shut it down now!" Birdwell's voice rang out through the din.

He blinked slowly, looking from the window to the door. He'd argue with them later, laugh at them for calling him paranoid. But for now...he pushed himself to his feet, arms flying out to balance as the floor shook. "Evacuate Sector C." His tone gave no room for dismissal. "I'll shut it down."

"B-but-" God, Birdwell seemed to have almost a compulsive need to argue. "Dr. Freeman! The console-"

"Is not damaged inside the chamber!" He glared back at the older man. "Go, and start evacuating everyone you can. I'm sending up Bailey and the others. Once they're through, seal the doors." Just in case. A final safety precaution. As he'd fucking demanded be included. Seriously, why did people only listen to him before starting tests? He was twenty seven, not a child.

He ran out of the room before anyone else could argue. A thermos rolled across the floor, contents spilling out across the tile.

He was really glad now that he'd run track in Uni. He'd been teased about it initially after his hiring, but it certainly helped in an emergency. He'd sprinted down the halls, vaulted overloaded computer terminals, and sent every panicking scientist that he could find up to safety.

As he ran, he wondered how he was able to take this all in stride. Was it because he'd expected such failure, and planned accordingly? Was it because Calhoun's conspiracy bullshit had finally gotten to him? ...Actually, now that he'd thought about it, it was probably the Tylenol he'd taken earlier. Or at least the Black Mesa Tylenol equivalent, this felt way stronger than any time he'd had to take some before he worked there. Another test maybe? Damn, he really needed to start reading the consent forms they made him sign.

He shook his head. Right, back on track, the failing test. He couldn't help but feel grateful that at the very least, they hadn't changed his test plans, other than the swapping of the person doing it. They'd shown him several crystals, and he'd chosen the smallest one available, wanting a first true test to have the smallest chance for failure, but you can never account for human error. At least he could look at the data later, confirm that's what went wrong.

Oh right, paying attention. Someone was yelling at him, pointing at a wounded scientist being carried away by a security guard. He should probably...listen. "-and I can't open the door alone!"

Oh shit. Bailey. "I've still got clearance, right? I'll help you open it."

The man seemed relieved, hurrying through the broken door to the closest scanner. "We'll need to shut the doors again immediately- there's no guarantee this will be contained, otherwise!"

He crossed the room, scanning his eyes before turning to watch the door open. He saw Bailey run into the 'airlock', but was much more caught up in the events happening behind him. For all the destruction this cascade was close to causing, and had caused, it was almost...beautiful. Shades of light, from orange through to green, accompanied by the tones he felt more than heard. It was haunting. It was awing.

...He was being yelled at again. "Dr. Freeman! We have to go!"

Right. He had other plans. "Take Bailey and any others, and evacuate Sector C." He turned to Bailey as he reached up and pulled off his ID, handing it to him. "Once you all get through the observation room, scan this outside the door."

Bailey tilted his head at him. "But, what about-"

"Don't argue, Bailey. Please." The stress of the situation was starting to sink through the pain medication. "Trust me."

Bailey stared at him through the helmet, before he nodded. He knew the weight behind the words. He was a smart man. "...Godspeed, Freeman." Without another word, he turned and slammed his fist into one of the scanners, shattering the glass.

As the doors shut, Dr. Freeman stepped into the test chamber, closed his eyes, and felt the crystal's tones echo through the room. Through him. He felt his lab coat whip in the wind caused by the failing reaction, the same wind that ripped his hair tie away as he tossed away his necktie.

When his eyes opened again, they were the clearest they'd been all day, and his mental state matched. He had a job to complete. He sprinted across the room, stopping at the lower console. The shutdown safeguard he'd insisted on was that not only could the experiment be shut down from the observatory, but also that it could be shut down from the chamber.

But this kind of resonance? He'd heard cries upstairs about being unable to shut it down. Which meant he'd have to do a manual override. Normally that would be done from both the outer console and the inner upper console. To do this himself, he'd have to run both the upper and lower console through the procedure.

He took a breath to try to steady himself. He'd known as he ran down that he'd be risking his life. He wasn't afraid of that. But only now, as he stared up into the crystal's lights, did he realize exactly what he'd lose if he failed. This wasn't about his work, but his coworkers. Bailey had mentioned his granddaughter's recital coming up. Eli and Kleiner laughing as they entertained baby Alyx. Calhoun's overconfident grin as he talked to anyone who would listen.

...But it wasn't just them at risk, was it? A full cascade would damage worse than just that part of the facility, putting his friends in other departments at risk too. He thought of the look in Bubby's eyes when he'd finally seen the stars for the first time. Tommy's laugh when the strangest things amused him. Dr. Coomer, his mentor, with a spark in his eye and a smile on his face as he debated theory.

If he failed...they could lose everything. He could lose everything. Failure was not an option, even if success seemed impossible. But that was his job. To see the theory, even if impossible to prove. To find a way to prove it. To make it show itself.

He hadn't failed yet. And he wouldn't fail here.

He set the sequence to start on the lower console, scaling the ladder to do the same on the top. He had little time to think, as he hurried back down. He had to do his best to focus.

"Five." He spoke, feeling his voice more than hearing it, as he went up and down, going through the motions.

"Four." He would succeed, and the crisis would stop. The resonance would quiet, the cascade would slow.

"Three." They would never approve this project again. But they'd already proven everything he'd set out to find. In this one chaotic moment.

"Two." The tones changed, the lights moving away from green. The air itself was changing, returning to normalcy.

"One." He stood behind the upper console, and threw the final switch.

He slowly moved down the ladder, walking across the rubble to reach the front of the machine. The glow was back to the yellow it should be, the only echoing through the shaking room being that of the laser itself. He glanced up to the broken window, turning his attention back to the machine. He rested his hands on the sample cart, waiting for the machine to start to slow.

It was only as he pulled the cart backwards that he realized he'd been too slow, that he'd fallen out of sequence. The machine rumbled as it finished shutting down, but the crystal itself, so close to him, began to sing.

With a loud electrical crack, and a flash of green, the machine shut down. It was silent. The crystal was cracked. And the room was empty.

#*confused fanfiction noises*#UoU AU #The Resonance Project #HLVRAI fanfic #HLVRAI fanfiction

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scrambledgegs · 4 years ago

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Moving with Purpose, Making a Difference

Segment 2 of: “Moving with Purpose” amidst COVID-19 Series

To keep our sanity, it is important to see the beauty in the mundane, as now on our 6th month of lockdown in the Philippines, one can say that COVID-19 has permeated every aspect of our waking and subconscious lives. This pandemic is as gnarly as it gets, and it is tremendously easy to fall prey to despair and anger. One quick tune-in on the news or any social media platform is enough to do the trick. We yearn for normalcy or any semblance of it, especially when we Metro-Manila dwellers take a peek and compare what’s happening in other countries who have flattened the curve and have returned to normal living.

Yes, truly, there are countless things to feel glum and anxious about, but if this pandemic has taught us anything – it is to keep fighting, and to make the most of what we can with the cards we are dealt with. We must not forget that extraordinary times require extraordinary mindsets – which must spillover into action.

This too shall pass. However, at the same time, we all really have to do our part. The truth is, we cannot just hide away and passively wait things out. We have to keep hustling, keep adapting and keep evolving.

Everyday People of Diverse Industries

Something that I’ve said since the beginning of ECQ in March 2020, is that we need not look far to witness heroism. They come in many forms, “the Hero with a thousand faces” (Joseph Campbell). Perhaps we can’t all be at the frontlines during this crisis, but it does not mean that we can’t create an impact within our own spheres of influence. Whatever we do, we must do purposefully, so that our seemingly small acts can create ripple effects, and so on, and so forth.

Thus, in light of National Heroes’ Day, four days ago, it made me think about some admirable and genuine people of various backgrounds who have been making a difference in ways they know how and beyond – whether in their respective industries, chosen career or vocational paths, and/or at home with the family. Here are some highlights of their stories and excerpts of their lives which I believe, deserves introspection and celebration.

At the forefront of the fight: Dr. Jose Maria (“JM”) Villamor, M.D., Pediatric Anesthesiologist, Philippine General Hospital

We always talk about the heroism in the face of surmountable struggles that our doctors and healthcare workers endure collectively as a whole, but it is also important to capture and document their individual stories, for there is much to say that is left unsaid.

Among these medical frontliners is Dr. JM Villamor, an anesthesiologist at Philippine General Hospital (PGH). His main task is to provide anesthesia to all patients who must undergo surgeries or any medical procedure that involve pain or discomfort. For those who know JM personally, he is often described as kind and funny, but he is also a very intelligent, brave and collected person who unconsciously downplays his skills through humor. Nonetheless, this works well for him in his particular field in medicine because it enables him to focus on critical tasks at hand in the hospital, and when needed, able to diffuse tense situations.

JM indeed faces a series of battles everyday. From his own experiences as an anesthesiologist in PGH, he saw how the hospital has gotten extremely busy and packed, as the number of people getting infected with COVID-19 piled up day after day. In fact, in the words of PGH’s Director, Dr. Gerardo Legaspi, M.D. in an open letter, he writes, “communities and hospitals around us are being inundated with patients. The resulting panic and confusion was palpable and paralyzing.” Such that, PGH made the informed decision to step forward and offer their facilities and resources, making PGH one of the three COVID-19 Referral Centers in the country.

Let us also not forget that PGH is a state-run hospital, and it primarily caters to indigent patients – those who cannot afford private hospitals. Thus, one can only imagine the multitudes of people who have flocked to PGH in desperation. We can deduce that JM, like the other doctors at PGH, have been exposed to the whole gamut of patients, of all kinds of diseases and infections, coming in and out of the hospital. Clearly, it is a job not for the faint of heart.

At one point, JM himself contracted COVID-19, but fortunately, he was not severely hit. A man of strong resolve, he recovered quickly within a few weeks of self-imposed quarantine and isolation. After testing negative for the virus three consecutive times, he was back at the hospital doing his usual rounds, donned in his usual full PPE gear.

Where he draws his inspiration

For JM, it is all in a day’s work. When he looks back at his early stages pursuing the medical field, he can’t recall anything or anyone specific that inspired him to choose this vocational path. All he knows is that since he was young, he simply wanted to be of help to other people, and thus, chose to be a doctor.

In JM’s words, “Seeing everyone at work is very inspiring for me. These people go to work even with the constant fear of getting infected by COVID-19, but still go forward, in order to provide hospital care to all patients that come to the hospital. Most of them do not get to go home to see their families for weeks at a time.”

JM himself had to make many sacrifices too. He was not able to see his wife and 1-year-old daughter for two and a half months during the start of the pandemic, as he too feared bringing the virus home and possibly infecting the family. To cap off his ongoing story, JM’s cautionary words are the same things that everyone has been harping: “Always wear your mask. Wash your hands. Stay home as much as possible.”

We heard it right here. This is definitely not a drill.

Role Model in Local Government: Jhana Corona-Villamor, Batangas Board Member

Leadership through example, concrete action and sacrifice does not fall far in JM’s family, as his own wife, Board Member of the 3rd District of Batangas, (former Mayor of Tanauan, Batangas), Jhana Corona-Villamor espouses these very virtues as well. We all know what continues to be said about our government’s response to this pandemic, or lack thereof. However, we must remember not to jumble everyone together in one lot, as there remains, and there will always be, people who will prove us wrong otherwise. One of which is Jhana, a role model in local government.

Like her medical frontliner husband, Jhana too is a frontliner herself. Lest we forget, LGUs and Provincial Governments play a very significant role in the fight against COVID-19. They must ensure that their constituents are abiding by, at the very least, the minimum health standards prescribed by the World Health Organization (WHO) and the national government. Such that, most cities and municipalities have utilized their calamity funds and realigned their development funds to counter the impact of the pandemic in their localities. Of course, implementation is easier said than done, but throwing in the towel has never been an option for Jhana.

Jhana’s daily work regimen is likewise a hectic one. As a Provincial Board Member, she forms part of the province’s legislative body, tasked with enacting ordinances, approving resolutions and appropriating funds for the general welfare of the province. She is the chairperson of the Committee on Budget and Appropriation where its main task is to review the annual and supplemental budgets proposed by the Governor. Much of her time has been devoted to conducting public and committee hearings to make sure that each and every centavo is well-spent to address the needs of her constituents. Jhana’s committee is also responsible for the review of the appropriation ordinances of all 34 municipalities and cities in the province. Her work as a Board Member also involves coordination with city, municipal and barangay officials and visiting constituents for consultation.

Whom She Looks Up to When asked whom inspired her to follow this career path, Jhana speaks of how her father was her main source of inspiration to enter public service. Growing up, she saw how he was able to help others, and she in turn, decided to choose this path because she also wanted to make a difference and be given the same opportunity to effect change in their community.

Resilience in 2020, beginning with Taal Volcano’s Eruption To say the least, 2020 has been a terrible year for most of us. For the Philippines, the year began quite literally with bang, when Taal Volcano began erupting in January 2020. For those who had businesses and social plans that involved Batangas, Tagaytay and nearby areas, the eruption caused much disruptions and stress. However, for those who lived within the volcano’s immediate radius, it meant far worse – death, sickness, relocations, evacuations and a prolonged loss of livelihood. The economic impact was and continues to be great. In the spirit of resilience, affected business owners tried to shrug off these worries in hopes of making up for losses in the preceding months to come, and then COVID-19 happened. These back-to-back unforeseen and debilitating events has made recovery seem close to impossible.

Indeed, for Jhana, 2020 has been a baptism of fire. Beginning in January, right off the bat after her happy Christmas holidays with the family, she was forced to immediately snap back to reality, as her world revolved around the survival, livelihood and welfare of her constituents in Batangas.

In Jhana’s words, “the past few months have been very challenging for most Batangueños. It started when Taal volcano erupted in January 2020, destroying livelihood and properties, leading to the forced evacuation of thousands and the declaration of a lockdown in 12 municipalities and cities in Batangas. These cities and municipalities still haven’t fully recovered from the eruption, and then to make matters worse, COVID-19 hit. Hundreds of families are still staying at evacuation facilities. These events highlighted the resilience of the Batangueños. Despite the repercussions of the Taal eruption and COVID-19, there are a lot of inspiring stories that make me feel hopeful and optimistic.”

If there is anything that Jhana clings onto during these trying times, it is her faith, her empowered attitude and the support of her family that uplifts her, day in and day out. She remains strong, so that the many Batangueños who look up to her can also remain strong. She continues to hold out for everyone counting on her, including her beautiful baby daughter, Bella who takes after her mother.

Where Technology and Education Converge: Michelle Pastelero, Education Manager, IT Software/Cloud Services

Something close to my heart as well, is the pandemic’s effect on the education sector, especially for young children. For instance, I have seen how my now, three-year-old daughter has grown in leaps in bounds when we enrolled her in a progressive ‘big preschool” called Bankstreet Summit School when she had just turned two last year. One year later, I can genuinely say that she learned so much in various aspects through schooling alongside other children, and I am all the more a believer of early childhood education. I have nothing but admiration and gratitude towards the very patient, caring and hardworking educators and staff. I can say without a doubt, that members of the education sector everywhere are truly heroes.

It was painful to accept that physical and face-to-face- classes would not be possible when COVID-19 set in, but like other parents, I settled for the next most feasible and safest option for now, which is online classes or what is called distance learning via platforms like Zoom and Google Meet. Of course, I am not alone when I say that this is not the most optimal way to learn, especially for young children. The social benefits of traditional classroom-learning are immeasurable; however, this is what needs to be done, in order not to compromise health and safety.

Just like adult Work From Home (WFH) situations however, children also experience the usual technical glitches and obstacles with these learning platforms. That said, it also makes me thankful for he people behind the scenes who do their best to assure smooth implementation of the current distance learning platforms.

This is where people like Michelle come in; she represents innovation that bridges such gaps between distance learning and the reality of our country’s sub-par infrastructures. At a first glance, one would think that she stepped out of a high fashion magazine, with her modelesque beauty and physique. Yet, there is more that meet the eye when it comes to Michelle. A veteran in the IT industry and an advocate of education, she is currently an Education Manager for IT Software/Cloud Services for a leading global tech company. Her scope of tasks includes having to ensure that distance learning platforms here in the Philippines are running smoothly. This means making sure that their cloud services are running well, and that all students and teacher-users have access.

Information Technology (IT) is among the industries which has certainly taken off, its growth catalyzed by the pandemic. As previously mentioned, Michelle talks about how schools far and wide, private and public alike, across all levels, have been forced to temporarily suspend physical classes; others, sadly, have permanently shut down. The words synchronous and asynchronous are terminologies often used to describe school curriculum these days.

On the flip side, a bright spot that has come out of this is that, in Michelle’s words, “it has really pushed projects to happen sooner. For example, because education must continue online, internet connectivity in remote areas has become the main priority for continued education this year. In the last two to three months, digital transformation has finally begun, where it originally was pegged to happen in over a 10-year time frame. Philippine education seems to have changed overnight, virtually. It has been a busy time, migrating printed curriculum e-books, training teachers how to be able to teach virtually, all of this to create a hybrid online learning platform where students nationwide can access education. Education ultimately, must be accessible, physically and financially for everyone.“

The Road Towards Industry 4.0

When asked what drew Michelle to the IT business, she talks about how she was working in IT since 2009 and witnessed firsthand how the industry drastically improved various businesses in a short period of time. She realized that IT was a good industry to be in, if one wanted to truly see change happen.

Education, Economy and Global Competitiveness

Michelle also talks about a former mentor who saw how she possessed a genuine passion for change, so he introduced her to many government agencies whom they could help through IT solutions that would concretely capacitate transparency and efficiency for its citizens services.

However, it was only when Michelle was working in education when she was able to see which service area of IT she was most drawn to, to truly make an impact. The urgent need to improve the country’s education spoke out to her. For example, she saw how the Philippines fared against the whole world based on results of a global, standardized achievement test called Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA). To give a short background, PISA is an international study launched by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OCED) in 1997, but the Philippines had only joined PISA for the first time in 2018, as part of their reform plans on improving quality basic education. PISA’s methodology and objective, respectively, is to survey its 79 member and partner countries every 3 years for comparative data on 15-year-olds’ performance in reading, math and science. It measures and benchmarks their ability to apply such skills and knowledge of subject areas, to meet real-world challenges.

The results were extremely alarming. The Philippines ranked one of the lowest in the world across all three subjects. Michelle explains that what these results mean for us, is that the average Filipino is not well-equipped for the ever-evolving job market; they may not have the best odds of securing quality jobs, other than perhaps, sadly, low-income or minimum wage jobs that will not be sufficient to get them by. This poses as a vicious cycle, detrimental to the economy.

The lack of access and means to quality education, and how it translates to job security has always been a lingering problem in the country, but it has become all the more vividly real today because unemployment has hit at an all-time low, due to COVID-19. Furthermore, most jobs that have been let go are those from within the service industry which make up more than half of the country’s GDP.

Equip Yourself

Michelle firmly espouses that “if we can improve education for children, we can equip them with future, with ready skills that they would need for future,” and this is exactly what she has set out to do.

I cannot agree more with her closing words that: “It is true when they say education is the best investment you can make for yourself, so never stop learning. Especially in a time like this, seek out more ways to learn, like taking free online courses. For instance, K-12 education in the Philippines is free, so I highly encourage continuing schooling. That’s really the only weapon we have when faced with the problems of the future.”

Staying Able to Enable Oneself: Nick Daez, Co-founder & Director of Seabiscuit Films and Kundalini Yoga & Meditation Teacher, Sound Healer

For some, when they hear the term Wellness, they have the impression that one has to be “unwell” in order to explore this industry. However, this is not necessarily the case; the wellness industry caters to everyone in all spectrums of health and wellness. Although I do understand how practices under this umbrella can especially have a huge and profound impact on those going through dark times.

Rude Awakening

Nick Daez for instance, is no stranger to dark times, to grief and loss. Among his many life experiences to choose from, one that drastically molded him into the person he is today, was when his marriage came to an abrupt end in 2014. He was only 28 years old. Numb, lost as he was dazed, his search for answers brought him all over the world. This is what pushed him back then, to explore the wellness industry, and which had subsequently made him a credible and compelling voice on its healing capabilities. In contrast, during that rough time, his other world, in Film making and Production was flourishing. Seabiscuit Films, Inc., the company he organically created with the collaboration of high school friends back in 2012, had grown into a successful video production company.

To take a quick stroll down memory lane, according to Nicky, he fell in love with Film making back in Ateneo when he was taking up a Production Design elective under the late national artist, Salvador Bernal. His class had just finished watching foreign and art films the whole semester, and for their final project, they had to make a short film. For Nicky, he just absolutely loved the process and obsessed over every part of it. From then on, he started helping out in shoots and apprenticing under directors which eventually led him to create Sea Biscuit Films, Inc. However today in 2020, Nicky is not active in its day-to-day operations anymore, but remains involved in making the big decisions, in checking on the company’s finances and having a bird’s eye view of the on-going projects.

Fast forward to present day; His new passion is now Yoga and Meditation since getting into it six years ago when his marriage had just ended. In Nicky’s words, that time, “he was desperate for anything to help him find inner peace.” Through referrals from a trusted cousin, Nicky joined a Hindu meditation gathering which eventually led him to Kundalini Yoga. Nicky can still recall his very first Kundalini Yoga class, as it was, “such an intense and visceral experience.”

Nicky was hooked instantly. He became obsessed with it the next four years and decided that he wanted to deepen his practice by joining a teacher training course in New Mexico, USA two years ago. At first, he had no intention of becoming a teacher, as his pursuits began for purely self-healing. However, when he got back to Manila, much to his surprise, he suddenly became awash with a strong urge and calling to teach. He has been teaching full-time ever since.

The Synergy of Two Industries

As it turns out, there is a burgeoning market for Yoga and Meditation in the Phillpines, even more so now due to the pandemic, as people search for ways to cope and find inner peace. Thus, as his classes began gaining traction, Nicky’s scope of work expanded into also being responsible for the scheduling, PR, marketing, and accounting of his yoga and meditation classes. For him, it is reminiscent of his younger days when he was still starting up Seabiscuit Films. It seems that Nicky will always have a hand at business and production, but this time, it has evolved to include his yoga practice as the main point of engagement.

In fact, Nicky highlights how video production and teaching yoga have a lot of similarities in terms of trusting the process and being patient with oneself and other people.

For example, he talks about how, “as a director and as a teacher, you have to lead by example and learn the intricacies of holding space for other people. There are a lot of highs and lows during this pandemic and I just try to view every moment as lesson and an opportunity to grow and help other people. I think selfless service is one of the big themes of this pandemic for me.”

Indeed, Nicky is one of those creatives who found a way to seamlessly mesh production and wellness through his online classes. Additionally, he, together with longtime friend, Snap Lopa, also created a Podcast aptly entitled, Paliwanag where the duo strikes casual conversations with various people of different industries. The aim of the podcast is to create an inspirational medium for the exchange of ideas and the discussion on spirituality and alternative living in relation to the current times.

Acceptance and Adapting: What’s Next for Production and Wellness?

Many questions remain as to the future of these two industries, but right now especially, during a time when mental health should not be taken for granted, more emphasis is now being placed on nurturing our well-being. It is not taboo anymore. In his closing statements, Nicky relays his thoughts:

“The video production industry was hit pretty badly, especially during the first three months of the lockdown. A lot of people were out of work. Fortunately, the recent last two months have been busier, but the safety protocols have forced everyone to adjust and shorten work hours. I think is a big improvement, since most shoots would go passed sixteen hours on a regular basis. I think the people in the industry all worked together to come up with fair and safe protocols for the new normal. I’d like to believe that by humanizing the industry even more, it’ll make the environment a lot healthier and beneficial for the people working as well.”

“On the other hand, the wellness industry has been thriving since the pandemic started. I think it just goes to show how important it is to focus on your health and well-being. Although we all had to adjust to teaching online, in my experience, everyone just helped one another more by creating more workshops and gatherings to work together. I think it’s always been like that since I entered the wellness industry, but it just got highlighted even more during this challenging time. For me, I think we just need to continue to collaborate and create that sense of community strong for things to keep going and thriving.”

Lastly, as the Sound Healer that he is, Nicky says:

“Life is short so we need to just embrace every moment as if it were last. We should always be kind to people and move through life slowly and with intention. “

A Test of Faith: Father Edwin L. Soliva sdb, Catholic Priest belonging to the Salesians of Don Bosco

Part and parcel to nourishing our well-being, I’d like to think, is being in touch with our spirituality and faith, regardless of whichever religious sect we belong to. This pandemic has truly been a test for everyone, and for sure, we have all by now come across times when we question the meaning and sense of everything, including God’s hand in all of this. I don’t consider myself a religious person, but I’ve experienced and seen what good can come out of real introspection and reflection, especially when guided by someone you can trust.

I think I speak for most schoolmates of my generation when I say that Father Edwin Soliva is the best person for this kind of spiritual guidance. He has been a Catholic priest for the close to 30 years, belonging to the Salesians of Don Bosco, and presently, he has been assigned in Don Bosco Batulao, as the Rector and youth in-charge. His apostolate is to facilitate retreats and provide good accommodations for retreat groups, and I am certain that he conducts them with much heart and enthusiasm, for among all the many apostolates for Salesian priests, he finds himself most comfortable in giving homilies, recollections and retreats. There are times of course that he feels physically exhausted after giving retreats to young people, but it nonetheless, does not outweigh the spiritual and emotional fulfillment that also accompanies it.

As the Rector of Don Bosco Batulao, his role is to keep the life of the Salesians in his community healthy. He is looked upon like the Father-figure of his flock, and thus, also makes that everyone regularly prays together and does their apostolate well. He oversees that the retreat house functions well, and that they are overall providing a good experience for the retreatants.

As my close friend and confidante for more than 15 years, I can personally attest to the effectivity of his homilies, retreats and personal advice. For me, his words can move mountains. They can truly move one to dig down deep and trigger that need and want for change. I can truly say that Fr. Edwin is a great example of what Catholic priests ought to be. He is not preachy or self-righteous; he is down-to-earth, kalog and in touch with reality and the changing world. He’s like that cool kabarkada who never gives up on you. Above all, he is real Man of God with a heart of gold.

Getting By During Hard Times

However, even those with a direct line to God see hard times. Having had zero mass gatherings, any sort of group, face-to-face gatherings and retreats since March 2020, the retreat house has really been struggling financially due to the pandemic. Moreover, their main source of income is handling retreat groups from schools whom all have cancelled or indefinitely postponed accommodations as well. Let us also not forget that the retreat house also experienced disruptions caused by Taal’s eruption.

To mitigate losses and adapt to these times, the retreat house, spearheaded by Fr. Edwin, invested in faster internet connectivity, webcams and a sound system for their online masses, recollections and retreats. Fr. Edwin describes how this shift has not been easy, since they of course, have been accustomed to handling retreats with the physical presence of the retreatants. Yet, they continue to simply do their best to persevere and survive during this struggle. Like other industries who are barely making it, Fr. Edwin remains steadfast in making the best of the situation, as this is also the field of work that they have prepared for.

Disseminating God’s Message online

As we are all human, Fr. Edwin too has some apprehensions about the future. He ponders about how effective online recollections and retreats will continue to be. Prior to the pandemic, his usual retreats were typically 3-days long, filled with lots of activities, talks, film showings and the like. Now, it has been reduced to a few hours online. He too, really started to question himself.

His continued inspiration comes from this thought and conviction, that “Edwin, if ever the young find your retreat effective or meaningful, it is due to a small part on your efforts and preparations, but remember that the real inspiration and power behind is God. You just scattered the seeds, but the seeds come from God and it will bear fruits beyond your efforts. Now, it is the same God who will work His power and wisdom when you give the young the online retreat. It is the same God who will give you the wisdom and the words to speak and inspire. Don’t worry. Let God give his ‘retreat.’”

The Serenity Prayer; let go; let God

When asked for a few words that he can impart, Fr. Edwin says genuinely:

“What is happening now with this pandemic is something that caught the world really by surprise. We were not prepared at all for this, and it changed everything in our life. There is a lot of fears and anxiety about how life will be. But life will go on and with resiliency, creativity, and flexibility. We will find a way to cope with all these.”

“For years we have been living a normal life and everything has always been in our control; that’s why God has been pushed aside because we feel we don’t need Him. Now we don’t know what to do. Now we are not sure anymore, and things seem to be out of control. This is the best time now to put God back into our life. Now is the time to get down on our knees and recognize again our creator. The God who created the world, can create life and make us live a meaningful life in spite of this pandemic. Let us find comfort in what Jesus said “remember, I will always be with you until the end”.”

The Home and the Online Marketplace

Definitely, another trend these days is the renewed understanding in the importance of home life. As the home has now become the center point of life as we now know it, what has emerged is the online buying and selling of artifacts that are made to make the home a better and more conducive place for living and working. In addition to medical and sanitation supplies, the common things we see sprouting online are the likes of plants and gardening materials, wifi boosters, laptops, homecooked or homebaked food, homemade crafts, big-item children’s play things and even sports and exercise equipment. This is not entirely surprising. As all sorts of livelihoods and jobs have been disrupted or lost, many have turned to alternative or added sources of income, or have revamped their old ways of doing business. The key platform of engagement and marketing across all these shifts is of course the digital world, whether through social media or community messenger apps and what not. The good side about this shift is that it has allowed people to hone their more creative side, coupled with business acumen.

I would go as far to say that the overall theme of today’s online marketplace points towards going back to the simpler life, or taking a pause to be more attuned with the beauty of everyday. As much as this can pose a threat to industries who offer an experiential type of product, this does not mean they cannot thrive as well.

Going back and Giving Back: Rosa Farms, Zambales

Take Rosa Farms for instance who is in the business and advocacy of Agri-Tourism. Rosa Farms, named after the clan’s matriarch, Lola Rosa, is a family-run, 12.5-hectare mango-orchard in the breath-taking coastal province of Zambales. The farm is home to the “Philippine Carabao Mango” and is “open to walk-in guests who want to experience the ambiance of a real functional farm.” At the same time, the sprawling farm provides countless jobs to workers in the area.

Rosa Farms is also open to exclusive events, usually booked in advance by both local and foreign farm-goer tourists which include, sightseeing, family gatherings, reunions or corporate events which are complete with buffet-style meals and unlimited mangoes. According to their website as well, “Rosa Farms is certified by the Department of Agriculture as a GAP (Good Agricultural Practices) compliant farm, belonging to an exclusive roster in the country. They advocate the principles of GAP in their trainings and workshops to fellow stakeholders in agriculture, highlighting the value of these principles in operating an agritourism (farm tourism) site.”

Farm activities also include the annual Farm Fiesta and Mango Pick & Pay. In fact, since the farm’s opening in 2011, “the Pick-&-Pay program has been one of the most sought-after activities of the patrons of Rosa Farms.”

Modern-day Agri-Tourism: Chamz Cayabyab-Zulueta, Sales and Marketing Head for Rosa Farms/Clearvision (Quezon City) and General Manager of Make IT Work, Makati City

Rosa Farms, including its café called Rosa Café, located inside the farm, have become household names in the Zambales vicinity However, like most industries, Rosa Farms was not spared from the repercussions of the pandemic and its subsequent lockdowns. They too were forced to get more creative, push the envelope and come up with alternative strategies.

Meet Chamz Cayabyab-Zulueta who is a pivotal figure in Rosa Farm’s marketing strategies. She wears many hats – she is the Sales and Marketing Head for Rosa Farms/Clearvision (Quezon City), General Manager of Make IT Work, Makati City, a wife and a hands-on mother to a very active toddler. Yet, no matter how busy she can get, she makes sure to attend to all her responsibilities. In fact, her expertise and knowledge in various industries is what helps her do her job well for all positions. Her professional career began with spending more than 10 years in Broadcast Television and Advertising, but she has always dreamed of managing her own business. Thus, she took her MBA back in her mid-20′s to shed light on what she would like to pursue into fruition.

Fruition indeed, as this has led her to Rosa Farms. Chamz tells us how Rosa Cafe operates usually from January until June every year, and the concept of the Cafe is "dine under the Mango Trees." This resonates especially well with the Café’s senior citizen customers because they love the ambiance and tell stories of childhood past, on living the simple life in the province. Yet of course, it has been a challenging time for Rosa Farms this year. Chamz tells us how peak season is usually around April and May, but due to the lockdown, they were forced to suspend operations. Furthermore, their annual Farm Fiesta with the Mango Picking event was scheduled around April, but it likewise also did not push through.

Bringing back the joys of childhood

To keep things going and to make up for months of forced closure, Chamz and Rosa Farm’s Management thought of launching Rosa Café’s menu online, but they also had to revised the menu in order to cater to a now broader market – to include the Metro Manila market as well. They found that this proved a little daunting at first, having to compete with an already saturated market, compared to formerly serving only the Zambales market. Moreover, it was also a struggle to bring in Rosa Café’s Head Chef into Manila; lots of permits had to be processed. Finally, she was eventually able to go back to Manila in mid-May, and through perseverance and determination, Rosa Café continues to operate from Chamz’s home. To remain top of mind, they are constantly innovating with new dishes to add to the menu.

Chamz also spearheads Rosa Cafe's product development, as well as coming up with marketing campaigns for its online platforms. To augment Rosa Café’s persona as a brand that “brings back the joys of childhood”, Chamz launched new products beyond food, that would promote this theme, such as customized potted plants. It was a hit; many customers, also known as Plantitas, rushed to buy these beauties.

From here, the idea to launch a by-product came to mind, inspired by her adventurous three-year-old son. As her son loves to look for new things to do, she thought, “why not teach these urban kids early on about going back to basics, such as planting?” Thus, the creation of the Kiddie Plant Grow Kit, or simply, “KP” which is intentionally named after her son's nickname. The concept of the KP Grow Kit is that customers can purchase a beginner’s planting kit, complete with soil, seeds and a canvass-like blank pot that can be designed through simple art materials. Not surprisingly, it was another hit.

A Meaningful Advocacy

For Chamz, inspiration can literally be found in every little thing. She simply has to take a look around for her to draw inspiration for new product launches. She says that, “We bank on the things that keep people sane these days – food and new hobbies like planting. After all, Rosa Farms' advocacy is to bring people back to their simple lives and happy childhood memories. She adds, “It is a good thing too that my husband supports all these crazy ideas that I have in my head to keep the business going.”

When it comes to innovation and taking risks, Chamz says,

“There will be a lot of times when things don't go your way, don't be afraid to innovate and try new things because you can only manage the things you can control”

On Grit, Passion and Family: Carmela S. Juban, former banker, Mother of 3, Entrepreneur

Last but not the least, let us also not forget the importance of nurturing relationships with the people in our homes, as we continue to spend most of our time within its confines. Harmony and peace are key. Often times, this becomes the responsibility left to the mothers of the household, sometimes the unsung heroes of our generation.

Carmela for instance, is a selfless mother personified. A successful, former banker for 7 years at the Treasury Department of one of the country’s upper tier commercial banks, Carmela eventually left the financial market in 2017 to focus on raising her three sons, Matias, Amancio and Augustus; 4 years, 2 years and 7 months old respectively. Her husband’s work required him to be away in regional areas often times, so Carmela knew that one of them had stay home and man the house. Carmela recalls how she was on bed rest during the pregnancy of their first baby. She remembers how the first trigger in her early contractions was caused by walking back to the office after visiting a client. For her, it was a tell-tale sign.

It was a sacrifice on Carmela’s part, as she truly loved her job, but at the same time, she knew she was giving so much of herself at work, that she decided it best to recalibrate her energies to being a wife and a mother. She has no regrets, as she knows that the time will come when her kids are older, that she herself will have a “rebirth,” so to speak, and have the opportunity to reinvent herself, as she muses that, “life, growth, motherhood, business is not a straight line.”

It Takes Two to Tango; It takes a Village to Raise a Family

Something that Carmela says a lot is that she appreciates her husband’s support, whether in business or when it comes to the responsibilities at home. For instance, upon resigning, she set up a side business to manage with her husband. It would help marry two situations - Carmela would have the convenience of working from home where she could watch over her kids, at the same time, augment their finances and put her knowledge of banking & finance into good use. In the beginning, it was something new for her, after being a corporate employee for so long, but she has since trained herself to think like an entrepreneur. She likes that she and her husband get to work together. They brainstorm for new ideas, and this also hones her ability to trust her gut and make things happen.

As her confidence in this side hustle grew, Carmela also began an entrepreneurial stint running a food kiosk in a nearby mall. Her business was thriving until COVID-19 hit. Like all mothers, she had many worries about possibly bringing the virus home; thus, she decided to cut her losses and close it down. For now, she and her husband are focused on venturing into other opportunities, not just in food, but possibly in clothing as well, and likewise, utilizing social media to effect change.

In Carmela’s words, “at this time when a lot of entrepreneurs are on survival mode, we just really need to keep trying; keep pushing. We can never think that a market is too saturated because there is always opportunity somewhere. Although, sometimes there is doubt, just taking the plunge without over-analyzing is the first step...I also think about having three young boys to take care of. The fact that we are all safe and healthy, is already a win for us.”

Indeed, her family is always her shining source of inspiration and motivation, “to act based on the scope we can control, and hopefully, in our next emerging steps, we can do our part in shaping a better generation.” The next question she throws out, which I agree posits reflection and action is, “is this the country we want to leave our children?”

Personal Learnings When asked if she has some insights to share. Carmela says, “This time has shown more the importance of family, how we are connected to each other, and the success to get through this pandemic highly depends on our relationship with one another. Be kind. Be extra patient. Everyone has a cross to carry even if they do not talk about it.”

“You can sulk, but pray and have faith. Who knows? It might lead you to what you are really meant to be doing.”

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envirotechdefense-blog · 5 years ago

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debbie-tanthorey · 5 years ago

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65 DAYS IN MAY

CHAPTER ONE

Cosmic irony. A dentist saved me. You read that correctly – saved my LIFE, albeit inadvertently. An action as mundane as having one’s teeth cleaned, set fate in motion. Was the week of Thanksgiving 2019, bi-annual check-up. Dentist does his thing after the hygienist finishes. You know the drill (pun intended). Only this time he uncustomarily offers me a hand-mirror, tells me to look in my throat, asks me if I've had my tonsils out.

“No”

“You have a white spot back there, see that?” My eyes shift toward the mirror – I LIE – say I see it (don’t have my glasses on, PRIDE won’t let me admit I can’t see any white patch) He continues, “If you don't mind, am referring you to an oral surgeon for a biopsy.” The nefarious B-word; brain fires a warning shot. B-word leads to the C-word.

Alone now in my car, I fall apart. Hi, I'm a hypochondriac; I don't handle health challenges well despite the jovial persona folks see. A paralyzed-with-fear hypochondriac. Foremost in my thoughts is a long-time friend from high school, currently dealing with a devastating throat cancer diagnosis; I know not to minimize this. (R.I.P. Grady, August 8, 2020 😔) Get to my desk, dial my primary physician immediately, which is a big deal for introverted-me; set up an appointment for a second opinion. The Thanksgiving holiday means I can't be seen until the following week. What is normally a fun, family-gathering time of year, is effectively fogged in with dread, I go through the motions. All-consuming thoughts ruminate incessantly - I'm dying. Yeah, it's what hypochondriacs DO, we ‘dive off into the deep end,’ thrash, drown in ‘what if’s??’

The next week, my doctor smiles after he peers past my tongue into my throat, “Where?” Looks twice, insists I relax, “It's nothing.” He knows me well, adding, “if it would make you feel better, let's follow-up in three months.” His reassurance tempers my panic . . life resumes.

CHAPTER TWO

December 2019, January, February, 2020 the winter that wasn't. Work that was. Mid-February Housing fair at Ohio University's Walter Hall Rotunda. Event coordinator, Donna, introduces herself to Dave and me at our display table. Lively-soul, (I admire extroverts) she explains she recently transferred to this area from Columbus and, among other things, is a Stage 4 breast cancer survivor. Woman is spunky. Piques my interest. I share my sister's email address with her, explaining Cheryl is an 18-month soldier waging the same battle.

March approaches and the little nagging voice in my head reminds, “3-month follow-up, Deb, just do it.” Did. Friday, March 6. Confirmed, no dumb spot. Ha!! Your basic normal appointment. Crisis debunked. As visit concludes, Hillary, his nurse, scrolls through my medical record, turns to mention it's been more than a couple years since my last mammogram, they’ve all been clear, but I'm due, and would I want to set up one.

“Sure”

My youngest, Leah, works in this same medical facility, stop at her desk near the lab to say ‘hello.’ She’s my last to leave home, miss her in my house still. Always good to see and talk to her. She and Ian were married 18 months ago. Her desk-mate, Jordan, coincidentally one of Leah’s friends from her high school days, sets up my mammo appointment for Monday.

MONDAY, MARCH 9. Say ‘hello’ again to the girls at their desk. Check-in. Take a seat, wait my turn. Have had plenty of these 'grams in my lifetime, no big deal, no dread. Bare 'em, squash 'em, and get back to work. This time though, the tech knows my sister, and as I dress when we are done, from behind the screen she casually asks how old Cheryl was when she got her diagnosis and how’s she doing. (60. She is doing remarkably well, maintaining) 10 minutes later, I’m back at my work desk, phone rings, the mammo-tech is on the phone, needing me to return the next day for “a couple more, 'maybe clearer' pics, and an ultrasound.” That’s never happened before. A fleeting shot of panic surges, but since my most recent dread has been unfounded, I attempt to not over-react.

TUESDAY, MARCH 10. Keenly study the radiology-tech’s face for clues when she comes to fetch me from the lobby, I examine her demeanor as if I’m a police detective on a high-profile murder case and she’s my prime suspect. She's calm. So I'm cool. Rescan first, ultrasound second. Not especially pleasant the latter, (idiotic thing to say, was wholly unpleasant ) having your chest unceremoniously smashed in a circular motion against your ribs. The techs are studious, the room silent, I stare at the ceiling. Last time I had an ultrasound was 26 years ago and I was pregnant. Today, no fun at all. Understand now why my sister mentioned she is not a fan of these during her breast cancer struggles.

CHAPTER THREE

SATURDAY, MARCH 14, a knock on the front door, mailman is standing on my front porch and in the time it takes me to scribble my name on a card, I'm staring down at a certified letter in my palm, the return address of the clinic lunging off the paper at me. There's a low, barely-audible, foreign sound in my head. It's 'control', in human form, and is protesting/whining as she’s being forcibly dragged away from me. Remind myself I'm somewhat sane, an adult - just open the envelope. I do. And there it is, in black and white, the word -

ABNORMALITY

The rest of the weekend is a blur, debunking the need for concern with my daughters. Every excuse, every plausible explanation of why a letter like this would be mailed. A mistake, surely so. Just a glitch in the system. “Mom, if it was bad, they wouldn't notify you by letter,” Leah insists.

MONDAY, MARCH 16, my primary physician calls in regard to my somewhat-panicky email fired-off to him on Saturday, the day the letter arrives. He speaks in calm tones, explains he was on vacation the past week, is sorry he could not talk to me before the notice arrived, he's seen the offending spot on the film, offers it's so small, unlikely any cause for concern. “Indistinctive,” he assures. Forwarding to a surgeon for review.

CHAPTER FOUR

TUESDAY, MARCH 17, mama-daughter call . . normal stuff .. she’s working today at the clinic. She mentions the aforementioned surgeon has office hours today, maybe I could be squeezed in. I’m in luck, they can. So in a couple hours, I am shaking the hand of the head of surgery. Personable guy, he tells me he's reviewed my pics, if the radiologist had not circled the area, he would not have noticed it right away. Optimism duly noted. He thoroughly examines that body part, pokes and prods, asks me if I feel a lump. “I have not.” Today he doesn't either. Every woman knows about lumps. I absolutely know about lumps. I would never ignore one. Fact of the matter, there is NO lump!

We go over my less than stellar immediate family history of C. (HATE that word). Lung, breast, leukemia. He recommends biopsy to rule out any true problem. The B-word again. This day I say, ‘ok'.

Right here is where COVID-19 makes it's bizarro presence known, personally impacts ME. Doctor advises local surgery center is now closed due to the virus and procedures are limited to emergencies only but he is willing to go before the Board to plead my case. ???? While thankful he is willing to intercede for me; I am tamping down anxiety fighting to rise up, mentally jumping up and down, stomping on it, both feet.

Couple days later I get the call the Medical Board approves me for a needle biopsy. Control-of-my-life, she is sitting on the floor in a fetal position, rocking, whimpering in a locked padded-room somewhere.

CHAPTER FIVE

TUESDAY, MARCH 24, Jess drives me to Jackson. I don't need driven. Appreciate my oldest’s company though. COVID rules necessitate only a patient be permitted to enter any facility; Jess has to wait in the car. At the door, am screened for symptoms, this is the Twilight Zone. And it's too quiet in here. The place is dark and weird and I don't want to be here. I'm the ONLY person in the entire surgery center, I overhear the staff talking, they weren’t on the schedule today, I’m the only patient. hhmmmm, why am I so important?? Creepy.

Am ushered into the procedure room, nurses are professional, put me at ease. Entering, it’s impossible to miss my film aglow on the lighted-box on the wall; she asks if I want to see it. (NO!! I don’t want to see it!!) In reality, robotically, walk over to look. There it is, plain as day. The previously described small-likely-nothing indistinctive spot. Yikes, it's a glaring, ominous, bright white glob with literal tentacles reaching out, it’s in the middle of my precious flesh. No denying this now. Thing’s staring back at me. The only way I know how to describe the rest of the appointment, is that I am having an out-of-body experience, it’s not happening to me. No . . . is not.

You know the lifts in a garage of an auto repair shop? That's what this is. Clumsily climb aboard, assume a face-down position. There's no delicate way to explain the procedure. There's an enormous hole in the table, chest area, your beloved body part dangles and the table is raised, surgeon accesses it from below. Area is securely taped, prepped and numbed. Needles are fun, aren't they??! (eye roll) Am told the table will vibrate, surgeon cautions me to lay perfectly still or the laser will slice me. (no problem, I float away, not even present in the room) And it begins. Computer guides a gatling gun of needles as it commences to stab the tumor, withdraw specimens of cells. Sounds horrific, but it isn't, numbing tends to that. Divert my eyes from the red, fleshy goop siphoning into the container, my eyes clamped shut much of the time. Lasts just a few minutes, dress, then am on my way. Visit the same surgeon in a week for the results. Will not come back to this location, by then this center will also be closed by the pandemic mandate, next appointment is at a nearby hospital.

CHAPTER SIX

APRIL 1, 2020, APRIL FOOL'S DAY. First time I have ever visited this hospital, enter alone, virus protocol at the door. Surgeon’s office on the second floor, take the elevator. Few folks in the building, those that are, like me, are wearing masks. As I wait, pilfer on my ipad. Name is called, off I go. Today I find out this thing is benign, that I have been spazzing for weeks over nothing, naturally. Don't wait long for the Dr., I remain seated as he enters, greets me. He begins talking as he walks across the room, lays down my chart, then turns, making eye-contact, “you are so lucky to have had this test, mammogram did what it was supposed to do; we've caught it early.”

“...(I go effectively deaf) blah-blah-blah-blah-blah CARCINOMA.” A cataclysmic concoction of consonants and vowels strung together into syllables, words, in sentence form, delivered matter-of-factly. What happens here is nothing short of BIZARRE. Always imagined if I heard the words, “you have cancer,” I would react BADLY.

I would -

be angry

weep

go to pieces

vomit

all of the above

In reality -

I did not cry

I did not faint

I did not scream

Instead, sit calmly, silently. Stoic. Utterly, absolutely, wholly dumbfounded. ( this isn’t real - my head hurts - is this a stroke!?) REALITY Brain cells scramble to focus, I listen intently to every word, nod occasionally. Hearing all, absorbing little, during this a crash course on three types of breast cancer and treatment options available. (drifting off - I like him, he gestures with his hands as he speaks of surgery options.) Reconstruction; their plastic surgeon is top notch. The decision is mine. The doctor adds simply, “you know what will happen if you do nothing.”

I do

Unceremoniously and without a second’s hesitation, I react, “Get it off me,” hand on my chest. (subconscious protesting, “I feel FINE!!!! THIS. IS. STUPID!!”)

He nods in acknowledgement of my words, continuing, discusses recurrence rates on the opposite breast. Fuzzy math. Right here I interrupt him with the wave of a hand, “Get them both off me!” For good measure, I repeat it. Decision made, bilateral mastectomy it is, ASAP. Hands me a print-out with my diagnosis, I roll the paper up like a diploma and slip it in my bag. Stare down at the bag I take to work everyday . . (new-reality thoughts commence) or did … back when life was normal.

“Lousy April Fool’s Day, ya gotta admit.” I mutter out-loud to him as I rise to my feet, reach for the door. (how am I walking??!)

Ah, but COVID-19. Global pandemic, if it were a person, he’d be a cold-hearted, merciless jerk. I have to wait 14 days, be symptom-free in order to be permitted in their surgery unit or risk contaminating the whole place. Condemned to live with my killer for 15 more days, let it sleep with me, go to work with me, hang out with me while I visit my kids, grandkids. Melodramatic? You betcha, but the truth. All the while knowing the beast is growing.

I don’t exit the building until I am pre-registered for surgery, receive copious instructions, am assigned a day, APRIL 16. Next to the radiology waiting room, there I message my sister, she is the first to know. I have breast cancer. There’s lab work, x-ray, EKG. Am a zombie. A polite zombie with cancer making idle chitchat with techs who have no freaking clue my unremarkable and average life has evaporated in the last 45 minutes.

Poked, prodded, scanned and x-rayed - my walk across the parking lot is a 1,000 mile trek. Open the door, slide into the seat, fasten the seat belt, inhale deeply, fill my lungs with air just so I feel alive and less numb. Stare at my hands. Wish I could scream without attracting attention. Vomiting would be a blessing about now. I seem to be the same person that got out of the vehicle two hours before. No, am not the same at all. HOW do I do this????! Any of this??

HOW??????????!!!!!

In the days that follow, I will unroll my biopsy report, familiarize myself: invasive lobular carcinoma, 1.6cm, grade 1, ER+PR+HER2-. (translation = hormone fed) I will become versed about the enemy within, that if left untreated, would put me in the ground. Knowledge is power.

CHAPTER SEVEN

How do you tell the people you love, you have cancer? How do you toss a live emotional-grenade in a room? As terrifying as it is for me, I have to watch the realization sink in, the fear in their faces. Jess and Leah, my girls, having initiated a video chat with me as I wait for labs at the hospital. “Mom...well, how’d it go??” Not necessary to share details out loud, I crack, my eyes said all there was to say. Tough to hide that. Awful is the fact I’m in a public waiting room as they ask, am trying to hold it together, not disintegrate, explode into pieces. Watch them absorb what they now understand. I can’t help them.

Morning of April 1, the plan was to go back to work after the appointment. I don't. I aim the car toward home.

But first, I stop at my mom's house, to reveal the diagnosis to her and George. This is the first time I will say the words. Standing in the middle of her living room, my mouth opens and the emotion-less words fall out, “I have cancer too.” It is weird to hear it voiced and I feel bad for her. (her sister, my dad, my brother, my sister, now me) Explain to her what I plan to do and comfort that it'll be alright. She supports my decision: show no mercy to the beast.

Head home.

Turn onto my county road, Jameson calls, asks how the Dr. visit went. Avoiding answering, instead, ask if they are home, that I will be right there. Am thankful I am not them. He ‘knows’ from my tone, detects from the question. My son and wife, Patty, live 1/4 mile from my house, I arrive at their place in only a couple minutes, walk into their living room where they both were, learn the kids are upstairs, state the fact to the both of them, and I sit down for a bit. Just like that. Keep it light and matter of fact.

Life is insane.

CHAPTER EIGHT

What follows is 15 days trapped in a state of in-between. Desperate for normalcy yet knowing I can’t have it. What to do. What. To. Do. Staying right-minded is the aim. Crave it. C-word rarely leaving my thoughts. Every day ‘hospital Jessica’ calls me to ask a series of Covid-19 related questions and asks my body temperature that I am tasked with taking each morning upon waking.

What I CAN maintain right now, is routine.

COVID locks my office door in mid-March, am the only one staffing there. OU student move-in/move-out day is May 3. I’m the one in charge of this, making sure everything is ready. Can’t cancel it . . it goes on with or without me. Scheduling surgery mid-April, slashes two weeks off my prep time for this once-a-year event. Realize the timing could not be better, if there IS such a thing, I have little free time to ponder what’s coming, am too busy. Every day I plow through my work to-do list. Go home too tired to indulge doom and gloom.

Away from the office too, I quickly find another diversion, researching and shopping for items I might need after the surgery. Soft tops with inner pockets for drains management, ice packs, hot packs, special propping pillow. A miracle they all arrive on time because Amazon Prime has been waylay-ed by the corona virus. A sick and twisted ‘Merry Christmas to me’ as each package arrives. In some small way, gives me a semblance of control.

Sleeping is not an issue during these days. It’s my safe place. Sleep deep and well, courtesy of a little purple pill discovered years ago. (thank you, menopause) Each and every morning, have about 30 seconds of ‘normal’ before I remember what demon is living in me.

An entertaining activity during this time is staring in my lingerie drawer at the start of every day, choosing which style, what color bra for one last travel in the rotation. I waffle. At first, suffer pangs of melancholy while looking at the neat row of vibrant colors and lace. Then chuckle, cups are large enough to be made into hats for small children. No one wants to discuss my boobs, but this is an important part of the process of letting go. Acknowledgement. A girl spends what seems like her whole life waiting for these body parts to materialize; coveted, we dress them up, suspend them with steel reinforcement, make the best of them. They feed our children, we rock our babies/grandbabies against them. They’re part of who we are. Mine are set for execution. It’s them or me.

Time ticks by.

CHAPTER NINE

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 15. Mastectomy Eve, am something I have never been, radioactive. True. This day go into the hospital ALONE, pass through the covid-19 gauntlet; escorted to a quiet room with a massive machine, bet it was a CT scanner, I don’t ask, I lay down on a metal table and a needle is inserted in my chest region, right side (still find it weird to use the word ‘breast’) and a radioactive tracer is placed in my body at the sight of the tumor. I’d researched the procedure a little (LIE . . I researched a LOT) beforehand, and read it would be EXCRUCIATING. So expect the worst. Naturally. Tech is kind and reassuring; small talk. I notice what great hair he has. Stare at the ceiling as I lay there. Then the doctor comes in, says I’ll feel a stick (had read the area is numbed first) expect that. Did. Not horrendous - that’s an exaggeration, barely felt anything. Assume we wait for the numbing to take effect before he drills through to the core. What I DIDN’T expect, is him to say, “you’re done.” Meaning that tiny prick was it. Say what now? Before the morning’s surgery, I’ll come back to this table, and will find out if the cancer has leeched into any lymph nodes. I dress and exit the building.

ESCAPE! The rest of this day IS MINE. I take my dreary thoughts, my diseased chest, the ‘DD girls’ , and we hit the road, took the long way home. Gave ‘them’ the best darned last-day-alive you could ask for. Was the least I could do considering what I was consenting to do to them. Pitied them and wanted them DEAD at the same time. Them or me.

Flowers waiting for me when I got home, the first time I sobbed in earnest. A torrent of tears.

CHAPTER TEN

THURSDAY, APRIL 16, 2020. DtoDD DAY. Death to DD’s Day. (and my Mom’s 81st birthday) Eerily calm. I grab my packed bag, stare at my freshly-made bed as I turn to exit the bedroom. Oh here comes one of those bizarro thoughts I have at times like this. Glancing around, mutter, “when I return, nothing will be the same. Gee, I hope I come back.” Melodramatic to a fault I am. Patty drops me off at the hospital door at a ridiculously early hour. Did I mention this is during a pandemic so no one can come in and that the hospital is spooky-empty and hushed?? Well, it is. Apocolyptically-quiet. Surreal. Check-in is swift and efficient and a surgery-nurse retrieves me promptly, accompany her to the prep area. this is real?

This unit has a circle of several cubicles, all but three are empty though. Settled in, changing into hospital gown, then I have three hours to ponder the fact that the last time I had surgery was 26 years ago and I am not as young as I used to be, and nowhere near ready to die, and lordy, I am no fan of pain. I feel FINE . . how can something deadly be in me yet I feel this HEALTHY??

In the hours I wait, return to scan-room to see if this thing has reached my lymph nodes. Dark room, humming machine. Same tech lets me watch the screen, bright lights like tiny fireworks become visible. No clue what I am watching.

My appointed time arrives, was about 9:30 a.m. Accompanied by a surgical nurse, I walk down the hallway to the O.R., my IV pole in tow. this isn’t real Three surgical staff are busily prepping. Funny how apprehension makes one awkwardly talkative with strangers, more so than normal. I greet them and cannot shut up, blather, “you know how kids took home tonsils in a jar?? (clutching my chest) you have a gallon jug I can take these home with me?” (yes, I really did say it) Laughter from them, that’s good. Am offered a stool to climb onto the table. I do. My God, to the gallows, ‘girls’

Jettisoned into the Twilight Zone right here. In the time it takes me to scoot, get comfortably horizontal on the table, sterile people descend on me, all over me doing things. Arms, legs . . belt around my abdomen. Am picturing masked-ants. Busy, busy. Big light on the ceiling lowering, settles above my upper torso and head. I feel FINE Am here, but not here. Oh God. Gentle voice to my right, as a mask is fitted over my nose and mouth, “take a couple deep breaths.”

Blackness.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I’m struggling in deep water, not diving down - but up, shooting to the surface of the water, I need air. Regaining consciousness, a jostling, repeating, “Debbie, wake up. Can you hear me?” Awake. Literal first conscious thought, drenched in relief -

“... NOT DEAD”

Body is being tugged, moved, but I’m not doing it. Realization hits me, where I am and what's happened. Conscious, I no longer feel fine, unrelenting waves of nausea wash over me. I give myself over to whichever medical professional wants to tend to me. They can have me, I don’t want me. Not this me.

End up in a hospital room, no recollection whatsoever how. Silence interrupted only by BP cuff on an ankle, inflating noisily at intervals reminding me I’m alive. Not moving. Lord, what have I done? Ice packs under both arms. Detest feeling this gross. I hang onto the sheets for hours, ride out the nausea.

As terrible as that was, and it was horrendous, it ends abruptly once I am fully awake later in the afternoon. In fact, feel remarkably good - considering. Any pain is well-managed. I can move, even lift my arms. I can walk to the restroom, tend to myself. Am hungry and eat a good dinner. Pleasantly surprised at this half of the day.

Curious. Here’s where I gingerly lift the blanket to get my first look. DD-girls are gone, replaced by a thick layer of bandage all across my chest, tubing, two drains, and . . . oh my lord . . . HOW long has my belly been that size??????! God bless boobs, they divert one’s attention from a myriad of flaws. Geez-louise.

Thank you, Covid-19, for the hospital stay’s solitude, I don’t mind, I welcome not having to share this day with visitors. Am only interrupted intermittently by nurses and the doctor. No big deal. Not much to tell. Post on facebook that I survived. Was released to go home the very next day with surgeon’s, “no restrictions. See you in a week, will have lab results for you then.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

FRIDAY, APRIL 17. HOME. Here’s where it gets funny. Seriously. Humorous. Reality. My youngest, Leah, volunteers to stay for the first few days. Plan on not needing much in the way of assistance. Stubborn. Not too uncomfortable, prop on pillows, watch tv, pain meds. First-night, decide my bed is where I will sleep, let her have the couch. Undeterred in the middle of the night, manage to get myself to the bathroom alone. Good for ME!! Ah, but then the sun comes up. Right here I discover Super Woman I am not. Attempt the same maneuver and the stabbing pain angrily asserts, “NOT THIS TIME, SISTER!” Ah, bladder is bossy and insistent. But Pain is in charge. “#*&@*#&$}” a little too loudly (translation) “Leah!! Help!!” She comes trotting and I’m laughing, trapped in my own bed. Arms frozen at my sides, literally cannot move under my own power without an instant excruciating reaction. With urgency (full bladder loudly protesting) instruct her to wring a bed sheet, get to the foot of the bed, hold the ends, let me grab the middle . . . PULL!! It works!! Whew, lesson learned, until I could get up and down on my own unaided, I didn’t sleep there again.

Drains. Grateful to only require two. Three times a day they need emptying. Unceremoniously, Leah’s job. When large portions of flesh are removed, one’s body compensates by attempting to fill the space with fluid, drains are typically inserted to draw off this fluid, speeding recovery. These ‘things’ (drain hoses) are just under my skin across the width of my chest, a stitch holding them in place at the hole (yikes) where they exit on either side. The bulbs at the end of the 12 inch lines are clear grenade-shaped receptacles collecting wound-juice. (you winched at the visual, didn’t you? haha) They get full. Necessary to milk the line first, with sterile gloved fingers of one hand, she grasps and steadies the line where it exits my body, with the other, she slides her pinched fingers down the tubing, pushes the ooze and any clots to the end. Pops the top of the bulb, empties 'ick' into a measuring cup, and logs the amount and color. Squeezes the bulb as she closes the lid so siphon will commence. My only job is to 'enjoy' the vigorous suction. eek

I sit dutifully still on a stool while she goes about her ‘work’, chit-chatting about this and that, am intentionally not watching the gore slipping, dripping into the bulb. She's not hurting me but every now and then will feel a subtle tug, a movement of the tubing. (shudder) Sunday evening she taps the bulb’s bottom on the table, remarking, “darned clot won’t fall through.” (rap, rap, smack) “Eww, that’s gross,” she says, “clot (tap) won’t (tap) let go ( jiggling it, the dangling, stringing bloody blob just hanging there, swaying back and forth).” My skin is warming . . . interesting sensation . . getting hot. Really HOT. She is sitting right next to me, is talking but her voice is fading. Am looking her direction, but she is drifting away in a misty vapor . . . waaaaaaaaaaaay over there now, voice, can’t hear her. Vision going and the room is moving ever so slightly.

I see my girl in slo-mo, she realizes what is happening, "Mom, Mom ... MOM!" (my mouth no longer works, cannot respond) hear her excited, “DAD!!!! Come quick!! Help! Mom’s passing out!!!”

Didn't. (did get to the couch . . sat still for an hour, feet up . . w/ice pack alternating on my neck, forehead) Didn’t vomit, so that's a 'WIN" for the day.

I learn to do it myself once she goes home. No big deal.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THURSDAY, APRIL 23. A week passes, mostly uneventful. Sick leave, lounging, medicating, tracking excretion of Deb-juice, healing. Tough to remember the days in March and early April when I felt GOOD. I feel terrible. Blah - which to me, IS terrible. No fever, no signs of infection, just a general feeling of malaise. (such a descriptive word, ‘malaise’) Post-op visit, a follow-up with the surgeon. Oldest daughter Jess, chauffeur for the day. The entire drive down to Gallipolis, I imagine they’ll take one look at my sorry self, react in horror, re-admit me immediately. I have to be dying, something has to be terribly wrong. No one can feel this bleak and survive.

Mull my life over for that hour drive, did I live it adequately, what is left that I have not done, am I going to throw up IN or OUT of her car . . oh woe is me . . my thoughts are rambling, disjointed, grim. (BEYOND melodramatic) LOL Get to the hospital, I have to admit I cannot even walk in under my own power. I have no power, drained dry. Jess requests a wheelchair and I feel how I imagine being 150 years old and feeble feels, reliant on a stranger for transport up to the waiting area. Pitiful. I hate this. Too puny to care.

And remember COVID . . Jessica can’t come in with me. My mummified remains parked in a desolate waiting room. sigh I need a transfusion. I need a transplant, I need SOMETHING . . want my life back. Where’d Debbie go??!!

Eventually wheeled into the exam room (decrepit thing that I am) to wait. Surgeon enters, his normal perky self, smiles my direction. I lament the state of (absence of) well-being and inability to go to the bathroom for DAYS. (how embarrassing) “Sweetheart (NO, he did not say 'Sweetheart’) it’s your pain meds doing this to you. STOP THEM.”

huh?????!

Examines the 12-inch incisions on either side of my torso. Both doing well. No stitches to remove, interior stitches will dissolve on their own. Exterior sterie strips will fall off in the next week. He studies my drain-log, then simply remarks, “looks great, amounts are decreasing steadily. You want them (drains) out today?” (glimmer of hope) Instantly agree, so without ceremony and with a quick snip of a stitch and a wiggle of the tube and a firm TUG, one Jackson Pratt drain is out. Nasty thing now coiled on the exam table. OUT!!! The other follows swiftly. Oh dear lord . . feels soooooooo good to be rid of those things. Best part . . expected to have them at least another week, that the extrication of same, would be horrendous. Wasn’t. Didn’t hurt actually. Bandaids applied to my newest holes. No stitch, no nothing. “See ya in a month. No restrictions.” Surprised he didn’t pat me on my sorry head.

Trip home is infinitely better, envision the tunnel and light shining in the distance. aaaahhhhh

Not another pain pill crosses these lips . . the man is a genius. (epilogue: my decline was indeed induced by the pain meds . . out of my system - recovering was a breeze. TIP: get off them as soon as you can)

P.S. Almost forgot the most important part!!!!! Lab results!!! Geez . .the tunnel, the light . . THIS IS WHY!!! TODAY I learn I am CANCER-FREE‼️‼️‼️ Well, I would hope so!! Nearly six pounds of flesh sacrificed / removed . . CLEAN MARGINS around the tumor. Lymph nodes are CLEAR!!! Sentinel node removal a bit messy, seven others unable to be separated from it, come out as well. Sobering fact is that I, nor the surgeon, felt a telltale lump - but it was there. In black and white, sobering words, “STAGE TWO”. Appointment with oncologist in May to discuss options. Why??? Here's the thing about breast cancer, sometimes IT COMES BACK.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Want to tell you the euphoria was warmly welcome and long-lasting. Yes and no, in that order. Sharing with friends that surgeon ‘got it all’ was met with copious genuine exclamations of ‘thank God!’ and ‘hallelujah’. For good reason. Pathology report of clean margins and clear nodes is a positive outcome. IT’S GONE!! And like me at this juncture, believe that’s the end of it. Too few days of relief pass swiftly - the reality that it may not be over, steadily seeps back in as I educate myself. But with a stubborn childlike optimism, trust the oncologist will study my diagnosis, pronounce my journey with this evil thing over. “Deborah, congrats, you’re finished with it and it with you. Have a nice life.” Let’s go with that. I want it.

Just a couple more weeks to find out.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

In the meantime, at home I’m getting bored. ‘Bored’ is WONDERFUL. It’s normalcy. And a strong signal that it’s time for life to go on.

I am well enough to attend to work emails, becoming more frequent as students prepare to leave Athens officially, the stalwart diehards who came back after Spring Break despite the lockdown that commenced mid-March. Boredom, the impetus, that gets me out of the house.

TUESDAY, APRIL 28, 12 days post-op, several days free from pain-killers and feeling almost back to my old self, I slide behind the wheel of my car, new precious pillow between sensitive chest and the seatbelt and drive to work. Man oh man, how I missed 70′s radio . . sing all the way. I last at my desk for 4 hours this first day, mindful to recognize limitations, cut the day short, but go home triumphant.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THURSDAY, APRIL 30. Meet-my-oncologist day. (mentally mark off THAT on my ‘Life’s List-of-Dreads’) First things first, why am I here??! Surgeon recommends I have a chat with the man . . rule out the need for anything further. Youbetcha. Today is THE. DAY!! Fully expect to be ‘blessed’ and sent on my way . . “Debbie, you were lucky, it’s all gone. Your cancer journey was intense and brief and now it’s over. Go live your life, girl.”

Check in. Hunker down at the back of the vast lobby, comfy chair. I absorb the room. Oh you know I don’t want to, but I do. A few patients are here. One unhealthy looking older lady on a hospital stretcher over there. Another slightly-weathered woman near the wall, wearing a turban. And there’s me. Odd-man out, pain-killers now out of my system: (yes yes, am minus the ‘girls’) full head of thick hair, kinda sorta minimally wrinkly, feeling strong and healthy . . . like me again.

Name called. BP and weight. Perks of the day . . bp is good, especially good for me. Literally-asked-the-nurse-to-repeat-the-numbers good. And am down 10 lbs. I’ll take it!! Gee, this visit is headed in the right direction!

Lead to an exam room, given a questionnaire. Ugh. Bottom of the page. Please list details of immediate family members . . . health issues, explanation. Here we go . . Melvin / dad / died in 2000 @64 / lung cancer (scribble to the side ‘life time smoker’ . . like it somehow negates the dying) Tim / brother / died in 2000 @39 / leukemia (again, the scribbling, master mechanic, hands in chemicals) Stephen / brother / died in 1957 @6 weeks / S.I.D.S. Bottom of this page is an OCD nightmare, ink scribbles in every direction, sad that I ran of space. Add, “Cheryl / sister / is 61 / @60 stage IV breast cancer (’maintaining’ . . didn’t add, but wanted to, “THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!”) Janice / mom / is 81. Terry / brother / is 55.” Finishing up, as MY oncologist enters the room.

Brief introductions . . Cursory physical exam of surgical site.

Oncologist reviews the information I provide, studies my chart. Two verbal inquires of me -

do you or have you ever smoked? “no”

do you drink alcohol and how much? “rarely”

He pauses. He can ascertain I’m not fudging the details. “Never?” he queries again. Shake my head in the negative. Sincerely he adds, “this makes NO sense. Risk factors are not there for breast cancer. No sense at all.”

Dr. Hamid relates there is a genetic test that can be performed using my tumor tissue, (eewwww, they still have it!!) the results determining whether or not chemo therapy would be of any benefit to me. Again - I am confused why a person who is now disease-free, minus seven pounds of her best flesh, needs ANYTHING additionally. I consent. He jots down for me the chemo recipe that I would receive if it’s indicated. Metaphysically burns my fingertips as I take the slip from him. (chemo??! stifling a scream) If not, I would be prescribed a pill to stop my body's remaining production of estrogen. Anastrazole is the drug of choice, there are a few common side effects: bone/joint pain, fatigue, etc. Majority of women experience no side effects of any kind, he assures. (mental note of an over-achiever: I will be one of THOSE) Dr. adds, “Lab work takes about two weeks to get back. Come see me in two weeks please. Oh wait . . you drive quite a distance to get here, right? Just call my office on May 13, we can handle this over the phone.”

uh huh . . . so much for being blessed and sent on my merry way. CHEMO, sub-set item under 1. CANCER on ‘Life’s List-of-Dreads’. TRULY . . . there is nothing I enjoy MORE, than waiting on test results. (epic eye-roll right here, stomach twists in knot)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

This is the last chapter of ‘65 DAYS IN MAY’ (today it’s February 25, 2021) I am a procrastinator. Am still me, after all. My instructions were to call oncologist’s office on Wednesday, May 13, 2020, to learn whether or not chemo therapy was the next step in my cancer treatment. By now I have little recollection of the blur of days between April 30 and when Dr. Hamid called me with my genetic testing results, my Oncotype score. Every day seemed endless, recovering well, feeling progressively more like myself. I let work duties bulldoze me through those days, thoroughly occupied. I was thankful to have nearly 300 college students moving-out and moving-in on May 3rd. Grateful to be bone weary at the end of each day, having little time to thrash about the prospect of chemo - that, and staying safe as COVID rampaged.

TUESDAY, MAY 12, at my desk, alone in a pandemic-locked-down office. One last day not having to call, know anything. Ignorant bliss. Phone rings, spy caller I.D., uh-oh, cancer center. I stop breathing. Lift receiver, ‘Hello, this is Debbie.’ Not breathing. HERE WE GO (9+ months later now, still recall the catch of my breath and pounding heart. Am not exaggerating when I tell you time froze.) Dr. Hamid’s voice was soft, he wasted no time relating my Oncotype score plus chance of recurrence is low and chemo is not necessary in my situation. He’ll call in an Anastrazole script for me, it cuts my chance of recurrence to less-than 5%. Only question I had, “what exactly was my number?” 17 “See you again in 6 months,” as he ends the call. Stare at the phone receiver clenched in my hand.

NO CHEMO . . with exorbitant gusto, I EXHALE

Celebration fireworks in my head, both hands in the air, stifle an audible, triumphant HALLELUJAH! For the moment, issued a reprieve. I soak it up. Once composed, swivel chair to my right, run my palms slowly, purposefully over the desk calendar, lift the pages, studying, absorbing. Begin to count . . . .

STINT IN PURGATORY - 65 DAYS IN MAY

EPILOGUE

(stay tuned)

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