Exhausting
The rains have come; men, women and children are restless; and summer’s about to be just a blurry memory.
June is here and so is the end of our two-month quarantine. Yet, here we are even more uncertain of what lies ahead for all of us even as nearly half a year has already passed.
It has been, to say the least, an exhausting five months of ups and downs, of losses and victories, of pain and love, and of mostly nasty endings to stories woven between dreams and nightmares. Lying in bed at night, I hear the endless howling of dogs when the clock strikes 12. I couldn’t help but think they’re the Four Horsemen out to remind us the worst isn’t over, or is just about to start.
A healthy young neighbor has tested positive for the coronavirus disease 2019 or COVID-19; an ambulance came to pick him up and brought him to a quarantine facility where he is now counting the days between life and anxiety. He is waiting for a second confirmatory test, the result of which is taking painstakingly long.
The wait is agonizing and everyone in the neighborhood is sighing in frustration.
For many of us, the virus has reached closer to home, if not our very own homes. We wait for news on the situation around the country and nothing much assures us really.
The health secretary Lawmakers are calling for the resignation of the health secretary. There have been too many blunders, they said. Even the private hospitals are all so frustrated. One doctor wrote: “Our government is leaving us out on our own. But who cares. They get VIP testing, mañanitas, human compassion and other entitlements, while we barely get through the days at home or at work.
“Never mind this virus cloud hanging over our collective heads. Never mind the lack of PPEs for healthcare workers. Never mind the alarming rates of infection and deaths of nurses, doctors, allied medical professionals. Never mind the endless stream of patients painstakingly waiting for their test results to come out. “It’s fine. We can handle these things. “It’s the ineptitude, the callousness, the stupidity, the insensitivity, the sense of entitlement of our government and healthcare leaders that’s burning us out. Burning everyone out. The doctors, nurses, bank employees, supermarket staff, drivers, delivery guys, etc. All the little guys.”
Amidst all this, there is still no mass testing; we can’t afford it, they say.
But the lockdown is just as costly, says Marikina Rep. Stella Quimbo, running up to P18.5 billion a day. Of the amount, P12.5 billion is unearned wages and P5.5 billion is unearned corporate income.
These are valid rants and everyone’s scared and anxious of the things that might happen. But still we wake up to the same reality again and again.
We wait for answers, but the government does not even know what to tell us anymore — first wave, second wave, no school, school can open, the health secretary should resign, no he’s just fine, testing, no testing.
Have we flattened the curve? Nobody really knows for sure. It is getting to be as exhausting as it can be. We are all just exhausted from the virus that has changed our lives forever, killed some family and friends, and which remains, a threat to our daily existence.
We are all just exhausted from the very late night ramblings.
We are all just exhausted from being stuck in our homes, some of which have crumbled in a heartbeat.
We are all just exhausted from the endless barrage of messages and angsts in our Viber and WhatsApp groups, which all seek to provide answers to our uncertain situation.
We are all just exhausted about the forced distance we have to endure between us and our loved ones, even those with the coldest of hearts.
We are all just exhausted about everything that’s happening to the economy — retrenchment, closures, net losses.
We are all just exhausted about the stories of corruption such as the overpricing of test kits and other health essentials.
We are all just exhausted about the unfair application of quarantine rules in this country. Little guys are beaten or locked up, while a man named Debold can have his mañanita just like that.
But what really exhausts us most aside from the virus itself is the glaring, sad and disturbing truth we’re facing now -that this fragile, desperate and deeply divided nation of 107 million is governed very poorly by the very people we pay so much to serve us. Frankly, that’s the most exhausting part. Iris Gonzales’ email address is eyesgonzales@gmail.com. Follow her on Twitter @eyesgonzales. Column archives at eyesgonzales.com