A war not about how many we kill but how many we can save
IF WE didn’t know exactly what former taoiseach Albert Reynolds meant when he said, at the time of his resignation in 1994, that it’s the little things that trip you up, we certainly do now. As our frontline healthcare patriots stand their ground and the rest of us hunker down in preparation for the dreaded coronavirus surge, there isn’t one of us who hasn’t been forced to adjust our perspective on what really matters as this crisis gathers pace.
This mortal coil, to which we are all too precariously attached, has undergone a seismic rattle, reminding us that it’s not all about the ups and downs of stocks and shares, the values of goods and services, efficiencies in manufacture and deliveries, optimising productive capacities or maxing out on growth, year on year.
The emotionally charged photographs of heartbroken grandparents talking to their grandchildren from a safe distance and protected by panes of glass are examples of the little things that trip us up. What they wouldn’t give to be able to share a hug and a kiss.
Or cystic fibrosis sufferer Ashe Spillane’s extraordinary resilience and defiance in the face of the coronavirus threat – fortitude that’s repeated by countless numbers of other brave people throughout Ireland.
Italian doctor Francesca Cortellaro described the dreadful final moments for many victims of Covid-19 in a hospital in Milan, the new global epicentre of the virus outbreak.
‘You know what’s most dramatic? Seeing patients dying alone, listening to them as they beg you to say goodbye to their children and grandchildren,’ she told the Italian newspaper Il Giornale.
It’s the little things that trip you up.
The dreadful loss of life in Italy, now heading past 3,500 people and rising – out of a total of about 42,000 infections – is down to the high number of elderly who have contracted the disease.
Dr Cortellaro said of the dying:
‘They are lucid. It is as if they were drowning, but with time to understand it.’
She said the only way to say goodbye to loved ones was via video calls.
One victim wanted to say goodbye to her granddaughter. ‘I pulled out the phone and called on video. They said goodbye. Soon after she was gone.’ But, as much as the little things trip you up, it’s also the little things that build you up.
The simplicity of the language, delivery and honesty that marked Taoiseach Leo Varadkar’s national address on Tuesday evening was entirely compelling. We all knew he meant everything he said.
His appeal for solidarity, community resolve and courage in the face of this appalling menace was immune from reasonable attack because of the existential threat we now face.
It didn’t matter that for years the entire world had been warned by people, who are now proven right, that a new virus such as this posed a greater threat to mankind than nuclear war – most notably from Microsoft founder and zillionaire Bill Gates.
THOSE warnings, and how they were ignored by our political elites, here and around the world, is something that is certain to be revisited once this disaster has passed and we try to put the pieces back together again. World War I changed the world – in terms of women’s rights, voting, social democracy and equality – and the coronavirus catastrophe has the potential to do the same.
Why were there no preparations? Why was the entire population of the globe left naked and defenceless against an attack we all knew was coming?
There will be a reckoning.
But that’s for later. Now, it’s war on coronavirus – a war characterised not by the number of people we kill but by the number of lives we save.
So, wash our hands, keep our distance, stay away from vulnerable people, protect the elderly and maintain our dignity and fighting spirit.
Because, it’s the little things that trip you up.
And, it’s also the little things that’ll save us now.