My uncle was admitted into the ICU today, possibly with Covid. He was militant about disinfecting, mask wearing, hand washing and staying six feet away from other people. I tried to warn everyone, it is stress that hampers immunity. We can follow the CDC guidelines but we also have to care for our immune system be eating right, getting sleep and relaxation. People don't seem to believe that. He lost his wife in August, which is possibly the most stressful situation that one can face. His immune system was hampered. I really don't want to lose another relative in less than eight months.
Three people I know have died since I last wrote.
Two were colleagues. One of whom helped me get a job to get me away from the stalking. I never asked how he died. It was implied that it was Covid. He helped build my confidence and helped me get the job I have now.
One was a former patient that I worked with years ago. He was funny as hell.
The death tally since March is now 13. Tomorrow it may be 14.
*****
There is a death I learned about tonight that is really hurting me. I really don't know how to try to type about it through the tears.
I worked with a nurse. He was twenty three years older than I. We bonded over, of all things, the clarinet. He played the clarinet with the community orchestra.
He was GOOD. Not like me - I'm too cheap to replace the pads. If you don't replace the pads on woodwinds every few years, they can get squeaky.
He also liked foreign films.
He tried to coach me in psychopharmacology.
He was hilarious.
He was sweet. There were days when I'd work 20 hour shifts. He'd come in a couple of hours early and relieve me without being asked.
It was always a welcome sight seeing him.
When things got crazy and tempers flared, which was more common than you'd think in a mental hospital, he'd seem to take it in stride. Several hours after the commotion had ceased, he'd have an loud, angry outburst and say something like "why can't everyone just be nice to each other??!!!"
The last time I saw him was June 15th, I was being moved to another facility. I had brought in 50 full size candy bars and soda pop that I bought at Costco for everyone. I waved at him as I left. He was eating something in the break room.
I promised to visit.
I kept that promise on a day when he wasn't working.
He hadn't been coming into work since early November. He was always hours early for his shift. He often stayed late. He was reliable....like clockwork.
He lived alone. No one could get ahold of him.
When we looked at the Denver Post this evening, we learned what happened to him.
He committed suicide by self-immolation. They found his car on fire in Summit County on Nov. 4th. It took a couple of weeks to obtain his dental records to confirm that it was him.
It turns out that two days prior, he was involved in a hit and run and killed a woman that was his age when she was walking her dog.
He was a damn good nurse. I cannot fathom why he didn't stop to help her.
Maybe he was afraid of losing his job? Or his ability to drive?
I doubt that he could live with the guilt.
He must've been heartbroken. Knowing him and how much he cared for people, I couldn't imagine what his final 36 hours were like.
This is why I'm crying. It hurts just thinking about how much pain he was in when he made the decision to end his life. It's as though he wanted to punish himself in the most horrific way possible.
When I saw his name in the paper, I let out a scream before my conscious mind registered what had happened.
This is too much.
*****
On October 5, I had a dream of someone I knew burned to death in a fire. That dream upset me so much that I couldn't eat and lost 20 pounds in the course of two weeks.
Now, that image is back in my mind.
The only thing that I can think to do is tell my friends that I care for them as much as possible. Some of the people I work with knew this man for many years, tomorrow is going to be a very hard day.
Please don't take your friends and family for granted.
For me, I'll be kind and loving as much as I can for as long as a can.
Love ya,
S.