I learned a long time ago that no one was going to be a more formidable advocate for me than me. Simply because–plainly stated–my life matters more to me than it does to anyone else.
No apologies. Self survival is a primal instinct.
However, I never thought I would get to a place where this was actually called into question.
Now, however, with the coronavirus ravaging the planet, I am forced to argue for my right to live.
Yes. Obviously much of this is out of our individual control but I would like to think I at least have a fighting chance.
That I, an individual who has beaten the odds for fifteen years now, should be given a shot at continuing survival.
It is incredibly demoralizing to understand that should I be unfortunate enough to contract coronavirus (despite my every effort to isolate) I might be denied supportive treatment. Based simply on my age and comorbidity (stage IV lung cancer).
It bites to know that those young people who were cavalier enough (selfish?) to crowd the beaches of Florida during spring break would be an instant priority. That I, who have fought like hell to stay alive for one and a half decades now, would be considered a non–priority.
Seriously? How is this going to serve society in the long term? I thought death panels were a thing of rumor, not reality?
My best hope of survival is to make certain I do not contract COVID-19. However, I understand better than most that this is not something I can control. Shit happens.
However, should that particular shit happen to me, I will not go quietly. I do not approve of a system or society that bases triage on chances of survival. Honestly, first come, first serve is fairer, in so much as it does not have inherent bias. That bias is bad for all as it is potentially nonrecoverable. I would argue that as bad as it is for me, it is also something that is going to be difficult to reconcile for those who have to make the call.
Don’t give up on us. Just don’t.