Growth is optional . . . But how do we help those we care about grow?

Stories: stories about what changes, what stays the same, and how to navigate it all. I received a blog post from Michael McRay whom I know of through his Dad, a Tennessee family physician. His post inspired me. So here are my stories:

Today I wear a mask in public. It is routine. When I flew from Tel Aviv to New York on March 14th, 2020, leaving my Fulbright in Palestine early, COVID-19 was ramping up. Only a handful of passengers wore masks. I thought they were a bit odd, over concerned. Historically, I'd watched television shots of the Chinese wearing masks because of their urban air pollution. Two years ago there wasn't much research on the value of mask wearing for infection control beyond the hospital setting. Over the past 24 months, mask wearing in public has gyrated from mandatory to the recent Federal judge prohibiting the mandate on public transportation. Our knowledge of COVID-19 and how to mange has grown exponentially and and continues to evolve. We have moved from discovering vaccines to prevent COVID-19 infections to understand that vaccines only lessen the severity of the inevitable infection from the new viral variants. I talk to the students in my premed, health communication class about the inevitable evolution of COVID-19 and compare it to AIDS during my 30 + year career. I remember my first patient on the medicine floor as an intern--this new disease, in a gay man, the odd chest x-ray from his pneumonia. Fifteen years later, I remember crossing out addresses of friends and colleagues who died from HIV. And now we can give medicine to prevent the infection if someone is exposed. The medicine routines that have relegated HIV to yet another chronic illness are pretty easy to take. Therefore, stay tuned. The CDC's advice on COVID-19 will change. In the meantime, I will continue to mask up.

What doesn't change is that we like routine. I like to exercise in the morning, shake the creaks out of my aging body and follow it with a cup of coffee. I need to care about people and know they care about me. I often text my one sister between 6 and 7 AM; she is crazy enough to be up. I love hearing the idealism of my students and their energy to make medicine a more caring profession--more inclusive, less judgemental, more trauma informed. I smile and recall my goals and hopes years ago: universal health care, integration of alternative medicine approaches, and more responsive to families living with domestic violence.

Much is broken in the US and the world today. I am guessing my grandfather felt that way as he pinched pennies to provide for his family during the depression and earned his PhD in economics at American University. I learned thriftiness from him and how to tend a garden--the joy of dirt under my fingernails. Planting lettuce at the end of February, removing suckers from tomatoes, keeping ahead of the weeds. He too had his routines: shopping for food deals for my mom at the IGA after he attended daily mass. He took joy in watching his grandchildren grow in the three-generation farm house. Attention to what gives us joy and caring for those we love are essential. It is also the way forward. Get small with your expectations. Celebrate the little delights that come your way. Be grateful for those who do you a favor. And find joy in the kindness you do for someone who comes across your path.