Living With the Virus

By John Countryman, Richmond, VA, U.S.

I may have to bury some people I know, and soon. If it comes to that, then I may be dead myself before long. These people are not mere acquaintances; they are friends and family. But I consider it prudent to avoid them for fear of infection myself, and I certainly don’t wish to become, like them, a “spreader.” It’s probably best for me to maintain my distance, but will that mean I’m already infected, too, but simply asymptomatic?

They tell us that nearly everyone by now knows at least one person who’s contracted the empathy-loss virus. A few have contracted the more virulent compassion-loss virus. Some of us know more than one whose soul has already died from the disease. In recent weeks, the press has recorded a surge in the virus, and many are refusing to adopt the recommended protocols to avoid infection. Some who’ve imagined themselves immune have discovered otherwise. Next year promises more of the same, perhaps even worse outcomes if people fail to follow the precautions. Unlike another virus which has visited us in recent months—a virus that is impersonal and simply seeks a host in order to thrive—this more recent plague is invited, is a choice, and is avoidable if we look inside and consider the cost of treating it lightly.

Some of my friends and family clearly need to be in intensive care right now. And yet, they persist in their belief that the virus is just a hoax and continue to infect others with their indifference. Some tell me that they may have had a mild case of the virus but are fine now, but I see little evidence of that. Today, one of my friends told me they’re not vulnerable because the virus probably only infects elders or people of color. They find it hard to believe that they themselves could be carriers and in fact may be living with a severe case of the infection.

Those who have managed up until now to hold on to some shred of empathy and compassion health are becoming overwhelmed. The resources they are clinging to in order to combat the virus and absorb their own sense of loss and grief are wearing thin. Today, someone I love told me flat out, “I don’t care. It doesn’t affect me. I’m a good person, after all.” The irony is, we already have an effective vaccine, but many are refusing to take advantage of it.