If there was ever a year to test one’s resilience 2020 is it. Last winter, my seasonal affective disorder was particularly recalcitrant, compounded by a large number of patients during late January and February with what I termed a “really nasty virus” that was not influenza, but had them sidelined for weeks with coughing, difficulty breathing and exhaustion, with a sprinkling of gastro-intestinal upset.
I was sick enough to go to urgent care twice–and the second time I was signed out of work for seven days. My daughter missed two weeks of her senior year in high school as the illness passed amongst she and her classmates. By the time COVID 19 was identified in a critically ill New York State resident who lived along in an area where commuters would ride the subway right past my place of employment, it was too late to stop the surge.
I don’t…
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