WASHING MY HANDS

A few years ago this coming June, while visiting the Children's Hospital Los Angeles where they treat children throughout Southern California, I had a chance to learn an everyday simple task. I was in the lounge waiting to visit my grandson Robert, aka ‘Bobby D’ aka ‘Moscolo Marinara’ as the medical staff was trying to give him a start in life, better than what we, all his family, was afraid of might be. The trauma of his mamma Courtney, my beautiful and smart daughter-in-law had passed on the delivery table sending shock throughout the family. Her final gift to the world was in danger and needed to help us all withstand the horror and understand life a little differently.

As I waited in the lounge, a group of people gathered together under the plate glassed window that faced the corridor. Of the group, one was a staff person who was wearing a white coat and had a box with a special light inside of it that showed the appearance of germ on one’s hand. Laying down a magazine I was reading or mindlessly browsing, I looked over. The meeting was to learn how to properly wash one’s hands, the step and techniques needed to do so. It was a course I committed to my mind because I saw the importance of doing so in ordinary times. The emphasis of the hospital was because there were children in their hospital that some were recuperating, some were fighting for their life (Bobby), and some who were tragic, dying!

Every visitor in the beginning days of this ordeal who visited Bobby needed to wear a mask and gloves for his protection. As he lay on top of the bed, freezing because they needed to keep him that way to manage his body temperature, we marveled at the little miracle that was considered going for the most part but for the quick action of a nurse at the birthing hospital who transported him to the Children’s Hospital. That was dedication and leadership by the staff, something that I still marvel at to this day, grateful for them and their professionalism. God, bless them all.

This takes me to today, and the need to wash our hands, listen to the professionals and like the nurse that saved Bobby’s life with her professional reaction in a crisis, we need that professionalism to save us once again. Keeping a distance of 6 to 8 feet apart in public places, the suspension of public gatherings and the consideration of all my fellow Earthlings health is the dedication I need to demonstrate in my own small way. Keeping a stiff upper lip, defying the fear with humor goes a long way. The fear is for my family and friends I consider of value, the humor to help them survive if only for a moment, a respite from the ugly reality we are facing.

Please… take care of yourselves, take the precautions needed to survive, protect your family and friends and have faith in the angels of life, the medical profession. To stay home and away from the possibility is the best thing we can all do.

It’s funny how when I worked every day, and I climbed the train for NYC or got into my car for Port Washington, I often wished for a day or two where I could do anything I wanted, paint, woodcarving or writing a novel that seemed like a distinct impossibility that somehow has morphed into reality. Now I can do just about anything my imagination will let me do. I hope that you can find that time and opportunity, also.

Stay well and safe.