After the storm

It will be three weeks tomorrow since I wrote my last post, and much has changed since then. August was a horrible month for me, the worst one in my memory, and I've needed those last few weeks to recover. Good news first: I have! I've been feeling more at peace, rested and re-charged than I did all summer. Breaks work! Who knew. 

Thanks for spitting in our face

Today, all healthcare workers got slapped in the face. Hard. And we will be hurting from it for quite a while.

Gone are the days where the public cheered for frontline workers, taped hearts into their windows and bought us coffee. Remember those days? Back in the spring of 2020, when all of us were willing to do whatever it takes to get safely through the danger and come out on the other side - healthy, safe, and most important of all, united? Not anymore, my friend. 

Now we're being spat at by people because we politely ask them to put on a mask - and suffer a heart attack as extra bonus. We're that stressed out.   

Critically ill patients may not get a hospital bed because they're all being taken by people who are sicker - with Covid. (Incidentally, the percentage of unvaccinated patients in Toronto hospitals is 98.7%. A coincidence, I'm sure.)