Patiently: A Covid-19 Horror Story

Patiently

The children came first. It started with one child perched at the end of the flowered bedspread, holding the tall bedpost while jumping up and down, jiggling the mattress. Even the IV pole at the side of the bed wiggled a little.

The patient—obviously a man of importance, otherwise he wouldn’t be in this room—rubbed at his eyes and blinked. What’s this kid doing here? This kid! Tiny, large-eyed, brown, barefoot, a too-large t-shirt and a sagging disposable diaper half undone, skinny like he—or she—lived on scraps in an alley. And yet this kid still had enough energy to hop up and down on the bed, over and over again.

In spite of himself, the patient groaned. The bouncing bed made his chest hurt, made his arms and legs hurt. His head didn’t feel so great either. He fumbled for the call button. A red light blinked on.

The child continued to jump, now locking eyes with the man under the bedspread. The man shuddered, repelled. He’d spent his life avoiding children like this.

Where the hell is that nurse?

The kid continued to jump, up and down, staring with those big eyes.

Well finally! One of many nurses and one of many doctors entered the room. The child stopped jumping and disappeared. No, wait! Now the kid was hiding behind the big rose-colored armchair, watching him with those eyes.

“Get that kid outta here!” The patient could hardly say the words before a fit of coughing overtook him.

The nurse and doctor glanced at each other. The patient could almost read their minds. They think I’m hallucinating, he though indignantly. He tried to point at the chair, but his arm barely lifted from the mattress.

The nurse checked his vitals and tapped results into a bedside computer screen.

The doctor looked on. His cool glance was neutral. The man in the bed wasn’t used to anything but looks of fawning admiration, fear, or sometimes naked dislike—cool appraisal was something new. And didn’t his eyes look a bit like that kid over there? Brown. Brown eyes. Brown eyes with something unreadable in them.

The nurse whispered something to the doctor and left the room. The doctor adjusted the IV, checked the readouts on various machines, gave a small smile and left the room.

No one had done anything about that kid! And now he was back, jumping on the bed. This had to be some kind of plot. Yeah, his enemies had probably snuck the kid into his room. And the doctor and the nurse were behind it. Yeah.

The patient decided he’d no longer trust the doctor, or the nurse, and maybe not even the hospital. Could he get an airlift to one of his many properties? He’d get better there, he knew it. There were other doctors. Better doctors. Who could he call?

He tried to lift his legs to kick the kid. He shouted, “Damn you!” He shouted at least a hundred times. The kid kept jumping. His hands were dirty. He was smearing germs all over the bedpost, holding it like that.

The patient finally stopped shouting. Instead he was coughing, at least a hundred times, mouth open, gasping for air. Then a little girl crawled onto the bed. Where’d she come from?

Why did he have dirty children on his bed? Wasn’t this the best, the greatest, hospital in all the
land? The best, the greatest, for him?

The little girl watched the patient coughing, then gravely put her small feather-light hand on his lips. Every time he coughed he felt that small hand cover his mouth and then rise again. She watched for his coughs and then covered his mouth like a little mother rebuking an unsanitary child. Was she making fun of him? Who was she to cover his mouth like that?

The other child pulled a third kid onto the bed, another dirty kid. They held hands and jumped. The mattress shuddered and the patient moaned. He tried to grab the call button but a fourth child held it out of reach, laughing.

An aide came into the room carrying a meal tray. The children stood still and watched as she rolled a bedside table over and set the tray in front of the patient, then pressed the button to raise the bed so the patient could come sitting. She almost patted the patient on the shoulder by way of reassurance but at the last minute withdrew her hand. There was a look in her eyes then, something like the look the children had. She left the room. She didn’t do a damn thing about those kids!

Before he could lift his fork, the kids were all over his lunch, smearing it into their mouths with grubby little hands. The patient wasn’t that hungry anyhow—he couldn’t smell and taste like he used to—and anger took what was left of his appetite.

“How dare you?” he shrieked. He flailed at the kids with arms and hands that used to be strong enough to take what he wanted, but instead the children merely pushed his hands away with their finger tips. Finally exhausted he fell asleep, half waking every time he coughed.

Sometimes people came into the room to draw the curtains or open the curtains or take his pulse or give him medicine or food or ice chips. He hardly cared. The children never left and no one did anything about them either. All he could do was cough except for that one time he was able to waddle to the toilet before collapsing back into bed. The next day (was it the next day?) people with video cameras came and a man carrying a freshly dry-cleaned suit, shirt and tie. The patient waved them away.

And now it was like every time he coughed, more people came into the room. They weren’t all children anymore, either. They sat in the chairs. They sat on the side of his bed. They opened his closets. They shredded blank sheets of paper and threw Sharpies out the window. They overturned his meal tray, scattering flecks of lime jello across the rug. They let the children play with the lights, on-off-on-off, until the patient thought he was going crazy. And kids kept jumping on the bed.

They stared at him during sponge baths and painful enounters with bedpans. They stared during catheters and tubes. The children threw toilet paper out of reach, so that he had to have his tush wiped like a baby by brown-eyed nurses who looked at him like the children did.

“I knew social distancing was a hoax,” he thought, during one lucid moment. Those hospitals all lied. They let all kinds of people into intensive care! People dying alone? It was all fake news, fabricated by reporters with nothing better to do. And the experts were no better. No, all these people in his room right now merely proved he’d been right to carry on as he had, ignoring the masks and recommendations of sissy scientists. He’d show them. As long as there was a breath of life in his body, he’d get even. He was still the most powerful man in the world, wasn’t he?

Children stared at him as if they could hear his thoughts. The adults just watched him. Were they supporters? Enemies? There wasn’t a red hat in the room, so no, probably not supporters. But if they were enemies what were they waiting for?

The patient grew exhausted waiting for them to make the first move. The little girl no longer covered his mouth every time he coughed. People played card games at his desk, children clung to parents and cuddled in the armchair, and there were people passing their fingers over his body, leaving their initials and names imprinted on his very own flesh. If he could manage to turn on his side and stare at his arm, he would see hundreds—no thousands!—of names written in the smallest of scripts, like tattoos left by microbes.

And then one day, when he noticed a nurse passing through the thick crowd of visitors, he saw that when she drew the curtains, she was the only one with a shadow. And then he knew. It was his next move they were waiting for.

Patiently.

 

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Magic March Miracles

I don’t have to tell you all, but this is a time of intense, scary weirdness. Here in the U.S., the pandemic is going to overwhelm our medical system and our “social order” (such as it is), thanks to the criminal ineptitude of our federal government. Many state and local authorities are more competent, but they are hampered by federal grandstanding, lack of money, lack of vital equipment, and federal budget shenanigans. And, unlike Germany,  where Chancellor Merkel assured her citizens that all will be cared for, many of us here in the U.S. are considered disposable. Our impending demise is supposed to be “good for the economy.” Now, that’s always been the case here–people who are marginalized, exploited and oppressed in the U.S. have always been considered disposable and many of this country’s policies have always been brutal and genocidal–but the Covid-19 pandemic shines a glaring spotlight on this shadow side of our national history and character.

People like me, who are old, now find we have an “expiration date,” a “shelf life.” I guess that’s one way to ransack the social security system, huh? Just kill off the older people and that’s more moola for 45’s golf games.

So, this is a time of tumult, suffering and uncertainty for all, on all kinds of scales. Personally, I have been totally alone since February 27th, with approximately five actual in-person human contacts since then. I live a reclusive life anyway, but I did cherish my ability to go to the grocery store now and then, or have a meal out, alone, with a book for company. Now I don’t dare. My cats are my dearest companions in this time, as everyone else I love is far away. I’m kind of holding on to a thread right now, hyper-alert to the sounds of traffic from Highway 20, a voice from the neighbor’s backyard, and the sight of the mist that travels over the mountain outside my window. However I do talk more to friends and family on the phone, or the internet. And I do know how lucky I am to have a roof over my head and some canned goods in the cupboard (though my toilet paper stash is low).

So, with all this happening, it was amazing to be graced with two magical miracles this month. On the same day, March 10th, two beings (of very different kinds) returned to my sphere. Both were important to me (for different reasons) and I thought both were gone forever.

The Cat Returns

For most of 2019 and the first part of 2020, I had been feeding and gradually taming an outdoor cat which I named Arya because she was such a tough little thing. She was a beautiful silver-grey cat with extra toes on her front paws and celadon green eyes. She had one clipped ear because she’d been spayed by the owner who’d abandoned her on my property (Meowington was another one of those cats). She became feral and fearful. I worked hard to earn her trust with regular meals placed near her lair in a wood pile, sitting near (but not too close) while she ate. She got used to me and I moved closer. Once she began to trust me, she began to enjoy my petting her while eating. She became a faithful creature, always watching for my appearance at the back door once dinner time approached. She was very punctual. And her confidence in me was precious.

By mid-January, I thought she was at the point where she might let me pick her up. (I wanted to get her into a crate and take her to the vet for shots.) I was also considering if I should bring her into my indoor cat family. (I have six indoor cats already and taking on a seventh might be too much).

But during the coldest part of January, a neighborhood tom cat began trying to chase her off around mealtimes. (He’s not a cat I feed.) Sadly, he succeeded. She disappeared for a couple of days and I tried to not worry. Then she showed up for dinner again at her usual time. I was so relieved! But the tom cat must have scared her away again because after that one meal she never came back. A neighbor told me she saw Arya one evening a couple days later but no one saw her after that. I would call for her during my walks, worried that she’d gotten stuck in someone’s basement or garage. Finally, I gave her up for dead–figuring a coyote or wild cat had killed her.

I grieved for Arya. I missed her more than I anticipated. So I was stunned and shocked when she appeared on the road outside my house on March 10th, near her usual dinner time. It was an incredible coincidence–I’d just gone outside to take the trash cans out. Arya was super-skinny and wobbly. At first she was too nervous to come to me. But a large bowl of canned food drew her near enough for me to touch her. I could feel every bit of her spine. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. I went indoors to grab a cat crate while she wolfed down the food. She was so intent on eating that I was able to scoop her up and plop her into the crate. This scared her of course. But once I had her indoors in the enclosed sun porch (somewhat separate from the rest of the house), she relaxed after a few minutes of panic. More food calmed her. I stayed with her as well, petting her until she felt comfortable.

(Bottom left, Arya before she disappeared. Middle, Arya half-starved when she reappeared. Right, Arya getting plump and healthy again.)

I’ve been caring for her ever since. One of the few times I’ve gone out in March was a trip to the vet, so she could get her shots and be tested for feline leukemia and HIV. She now has a clean bill of health, along with flea, tick, and worm treatments. She’s eating well and putting on weight. I have resolved to keep her indoors as the mean tom cat is still around. I am in the process of introducing her (carefully) to the rest of the cats.

Arya’s return is the first of March’s miracles.

The Teacher Returns

And now for the second, which gives an important boost to my determination to use magic (and common sense) to get through this pandemic.

The Witch’s Primer course, offered online by Ariel Gatoga, was an important resource for me during 2016-2017, when I started my first Guild of Ornamental Hermits fantasy novel and began planning my move (my escape!) from Hawai’i back to California. I had stumbled across The Witch’s Primer on the internet and was quickly captivated by the material as well as Ariel’s voice and humor. Each class helped me to focus my energy and pay attention to self-care. In this way, Ariel became my first official witchcraft teacher. I have studied, and still study, other esoteric traditions and have had some wonderful teachers. However, I don’t think I ever enjoyed a teacher’s personality so much.

In addition to the Primer, I spent many hours listening to his lectures while preparing my house for sale (painting bedrooms, cleaning…). For months, thoughts of magic and magic practices permeated my house. I am not surprised it sold quickly once it was on the market. (FYI, A Charmed Life is one of my favorite lectures. I’m revisiting it again as I prepare for my next out of state move!)

Then Ariel dropped out of sight in the middle of 2017. There was no explanation. It was all very abrupt. I was very sad. I missed the teachings and his humor. I worried that some catastrophe had happened. And then I moved on–basing my subsequent explorations of witchery on other books and sources, yet weaving them in with what I’d learned from the Primer. Ariel’s teaching remained foundational as I began to develop a regular, eclectic practice.

Fast forward to March 10, 2020. Suddenly a group email appeared from Ariel Gatoga (I’d been on his previous mailing list). The email heralded his return, which now consists of a new website, links to all his vintage lectures (plus new materials) on a new YouTube channel, a Facebook page, and an Instagram account. And over the last few days, Ariel has been offering online Tarot readings (group and individual). I encourage all who are interested to visit his site and his offerings. I think you’ll be pleased.

As for me, I couldn’t be more delighted to have Arya the Cat and Ariel the Teacher back in my life. Magic is alive. Blessed Be!

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Welcome to My MCS Life

For those who don’t know, MCS stands for “multiple chemical sensitivities,” a rather unfortunate term which has often branded its sufferers as “special snowflakes,” hypochondriacs, and misfits. “Environmental illness” is another broad term, often abbreviated EI. And you may often seem these terms used together as EI/MCS.

BlkPinkmcs_logo
From a hat sold by the Environmental Health Network of CA, http://www.ehnca.org. I was a board member and president back in the 90s.

I wish I could convey to you what it means to have this condition–one which results in years and even decades of partial or even total social isolation–in times like these, a time of massive, world-wide (but hopefully temporary) “social distancing.” Linda Sepp does an excellent job of this in two of her recent Seriously Sensitive to Pollution blog posts: Dear Quarantined and Socially Distanced and Two Tales: Temporary Quarantine or Long-term Segregation. As she states in Two Tales:

“Many other people are worried about having to stay at home for a couple of weeks, without access to their regular activities, because they have never had to think about what it’s like, but some of us (indeed millions around the world) have been forced to stay confined and isolated, sometimes for most of our lives! Our stories are seldom told, and when they are told, they’re often dismissed as anomalies and quickly forgotten.”

Please note that such isolation is usually not just social, but also economic, medical, spiritual, familial, recreational, and educational. We fucking know how hard this is–but unlike the rest of you who do not have this or other chronic illnesses or disabilities– there will be no return for us to what most people consider a socially normal way of life.

In fact, it will be even harder for us. With the uptick in the use of heavy cleaning products and germicides in all public places, including grocery stores, we MCSers are well and truly fucked.

I’ve had 30 years of dealing with EI/MCS, and periods of partial isolation. During the last four years, while living in semi-rural areas, I’ve had long stretches where I haven’t seen a living soul besides my cats for days and weeks at a time. There have been many weeks when a grocery store clerk has been my only in-person interaction. I am heavily reliant on the internet and social media.  Loneliness is now known to be more detrimental to health than 15 cigarettes a day. Just think about that. Think about us. 

It’s airborne toxins which are the main problem for most of us. I can’t access disaster shelters (in a region known for several fires a year) or senior centers due to widespread use of fragrances and scented personal care products, combined with heavy cleaners. I’ve had to give up exercise classes, forego the comraderie of senior lunchs and the local UU as well as a fraternal organization that promised me scent-free accommodation at meetings and then didn’t honor that promise. Yes, I have a private practice but it is very part-time in this rural area. I could use something a little more regular in this gig economy (and I know that goes for millions of other people besides!). I’ve tried to educate, I’ve complained, I’ve asked for equal access, and I’ve cited studies–all for naught.

And my home, which is my environmentally clean safe space, is not always “free from contagion.” The choking fumes from heavily scented detergents, coming from my neighbor’s washing machine (located in an outdoor driveway) often seep into my house. Another neighbor will sometimes gun a motorcycle engine or leave a car running for several minutes at a time. I smell that in my house too.

Read The Reaction To Coronavirus Is Making Some Chronically Ill People Angry, and I’m One Of Them by Kelly Wynne (Newsweek, 3/13/20). No, we don’t want the rest of you to suffer–either from Covid-19 or from the kind of isolation that is new to you–but dammit, we’d love to have just a smidgeon of attention for our plight too, and some TLC and some scent-free social services, before the rest of the world goes back to their toxic business as usual.

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Viral Magic

Updated 3/12/2020

First Things First

Before I launch into the pagan/witchy portion of this blog, I want to share the medical and public health information that we should all pay attention to, regarding the spread of Covid-19, which as of today March 11th, is now officially declared a pandemic by the World Health Organization. (WHO updates may be found here.)

Track the global situation using this excellent interactive map of the Covid-19 stats from John Hopkins University. Also a must read: Coronavirus: Why You Must Act Now by Tomas Pueyo (lots of number crunching).

How to Wash Hands Properly

I don’t know the source of the above infographic,  but notice the bottom right–using a paper towel to turn off the faucet. Not all “how to wash hands” information includes this key piece of information. The recommendation is to wash hands with soap and water for 20-30 seconds at least.

One thing seldom addressed: wash your hands before (and after) doing or touching up your make-up! 1278px-Makeup_brush

Below, the general U.S. Centers for Disease Control (CDC) recommendations.

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Next, something about how to support those in higher risk groups. Remember that older people are already prone to isolation and loneliness, recently shown to be more hazardous to health than 15 cigarettes a day. Therefore, if you have an older relative or friend, check in with them frequently, daily if possible. It’s not so hard to do. Email, text, phone, or post on social media. Let them know you care.


Support Those at Higher Risk

Finally, a suggestion of my own:

COVID Self-Help TIP


You might also appreciate these coronavirus_workplace_tips_for_employees from the U.S. Chamber of Commerce Foundation.

Now for the Witchy Portion

I give importance to science and public health data, and I act on the common sense recommendations which have served humanity well in situations like this. But I also find ideas, comfort, and inspiration in my polytheist/pagan and witchy spiritual path for extra added “oomph.” (Can’t hurt, could help!). So here I will share a few things that have been shared with me that could be added to a pagan or magical practice to boost health, resilience, or to ward and protect.

Magical Social Distancing

Use this social “down time” to do magic stuff. Work some spells. Clean your altar. Listen to witchy podcasts. Catch up on your witchy reading. Get in touch with nature. Look for hagstones in the riverbed. Make friends with a new tree. Stuff like that!

Sigil Magic

Here’s an Immunity Boosting Sigil published by sigil expert, Laura Tempest Zakaroff, on March 8th. It is a shared magic sigil. Zakaroff gives permission for its use via Creative Commons licensing (see text below sigil). Please click the above link to read her blog about its development and use. Zakaroff’s book, Sigil Witchery–A Witch’s Guide to Crafting Magick Symbols, can be found on her page, here.


Immunitybooster
Immunity Booster Sigil by Laura Tempest Zakroff is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.


Energy and Breathing Practices to Boost Health, Resilience

Most of us know about yogic breathing and its cousin, tantric breathing, and other such practices. Here are two breath/energy practices that might be less familiar.

Wim Hof Method

As a boost to health and energy, Aidan Wachter, author of Six Ways–Approaches and Entries for Practical Magic suggested the Wim Hof Method of breathing (via a post in his Six Ways Facebook group). I found this Wim Hof video (below) and tried it. It feels amazing. Apparently one of the things this breath does is to make the body more alkaline, which is helpful in warding off disease.

This is a brand new discovery for me, and I intend to delve and dive into this man’s work much more deeply. At the moment, I just suggest trying this (on an empty stomach, sitting or lying down). I’ve done a lot of energetic and breathing type practices in my life, but I’ve never felt anything quite like this. I’m making a habit now to follow the guided breath video below, as soon as I wake up. I really like what it does!

Six Healing Sounds

My dear friend, the late Marcia Kerwit (Wexler) was a senior instructor for Mantak Chia’s Healing Tao. She shared the Six Healing Sounds practice with me many years ago. I have just found my old page of instructions and intend to pick up this practice again! According to Marcia, this practice “talks” to your organs and keeps ’em happy. Here’s a link.

Solo Sex Magic

On Feb. 4, 2020, Jaime Bell published an article in The Big Think called Masturbation boosts your immune system, helping you fight off infection and illness. From the article:

“Masturbation causes a rush of dopamine, which is a chemical that is associated with our ability to feel pleasure. Along with the rush of dopamine that is released during an orgasm, there is also a release of a hormone called oxytocin, which is commonly referred to as the “love hormone.”

This concoction of chemicals does more than just boost our mood, it also can play a key role in decreasing stress and promoting relaxation. Oxytocin decreases cortisol, which is a stress hormone that is usually present (in high volumes) during times of anxiety, fear, panic, or distress.” 

According to the article, masturbation and orgasm increases white blood cells and the hormones seratonine, oxytocin, and norepinephrine (which counteract stress hormones, thus lowering inflamation), and generally “promotes a healthy immune system.”

And when you add solo sex magic to the mix… perhaps incorporating the above sigil to boost your health and immunity… hey!!! (For a great book on this topic, check out Jason Miller’s Sex, Sorcery, and Spirit: The Secrets of Erotic Magic. (Link to all his books here.)

Offerings to Deities, Ancestors, Others

Who do you work with? Is there anyone who is particularly focused on healing? Now is the time to make some extra offerings and/or cultivate a more regular practice, in order to ask for assistance. For example, one of the deities I work with is Brigid, a Celtic goddess who assists with healing (among other things). I’ve been making offerings to her on a (mostly) weekly basis now for several months, so I feel comfortable about asking. I also have asked my patron deity, Loki Laufeyjarson, to help me keep an eye on my health. He gets an offering of cinnamon tea every day, plus other beverages and goodies throughout the week. Again, I feel comfortable asking for extra help during this time, because I’ve taken the time to cultivate the relationship with more offering and less asking. On the other hand, another one of my deities has expressed a lack of interest in working with me at this time and so I have to take that “no” with grace. (The above ascertained using pendulum divination.)

Others have suggested working with White and Green Tara, but I personally haven’t worked with the Buddhist traditions. For those who have, here are two links that were given to me:

Swift Healing with White Tara – article by Lee Kane in BuddhaWeekly.com

Thunder Rites Tinkering Bell – article by Benebell Wen.

Two of my favorite guides for working and collaborating with unseen allies include the above mentioned Six Ways by Aidan Wachter and Daniel Foor’s Ancestral Medicine.

Obviously, there are many, many options for contacting and working with unseen healing allies, depending on your own spiritual and magical practices and the pantheons you work with.

Talismans, Wards, Protection Spells, Servitors

There is so much to say on the above, and I am no expert in any of these methods. I am considering how to best use Zackaroff’s sigil, which is a form of talisman. And I did renew contact with a previous servitor and have enlisted its help in keeping uninvited or unruly “guests” away from my house. This includes any harmful microscopic guests who, with all due respect, are not wanted here at the moment.

One person on social media suggested that talismans and servitors could be used to warn us away from areas of contagion (so pay attention to that little voice of caution if you use such methods). Other people made health and protection recommendations, including: Benebell Wen’s book of Fu Talismans; the “2nd Pentacle of Mars from the Key of Solomon;” smoke cleansing of the home; working with the “Forty Servants” deck of servitors, particularly The Healer, The Depleted, and Harvan.

As you can see, there is something for almost everyone and the above list is a very short sampling of what’s out there. As I said before, can’t hurt, could help.

Practical Animism

On social media, one person mentioned talking to their doorways, windows, and thresholds of all kind (to keep contagion out), as well as communicating with all foods, supplements, and medicines–asking all for extra boosts to the immune system and protection from illness. Practical animism dovetails with talismans and warding work.

Hypno-Magic: Positive Autosuggestion & Self-Hypnosis

Émile Coué (1857-1926) was a psychologist and pharmacist known for his use of suggestion and autosuggestion. The Wikipedia entry says:

“Coué noticed that in certain cases he could improve the efficacy of a given medicine by praising its effectiveness to the patient. He realized that those patients to whom he praised the medicine had a noticeable improvement when compared to patients to whom he said nothing. This began Coué’s exploration of the use of hypnosis and the power of the imagination.”

Coué later discarded hypnosis in favor of autosuggestion. He is known for the famous affirmation, “every day, in every way, I’m getting better and better.”

As a professional hypnotist and hypnosis instructor, I’ve been aware of Coué and the power of self-talk for several years. Thanks to him, I’ve been charging my presciption meds on my altar, and I offer blessings and thanks as I consume them, along with self-suggestions that I will have the maximum benefit and minimal (or zero) side effects. I am reminded now to extend this to all foods and supplements which enter my body.

Such practices can have real results. I know a hypnotist who underwent chemotherapy. She  did self-hypnosis to increase the benefit of the therapy and to prevent suffering from side effects. She had absolutely no side effects. Suggestion might have also played a role in the recovery of Precious Reynolds, an eight year old girl, who in 2011 was one of the few people in the world to survive rabies without getting the shots. From the article in SF Gate:

Her grandmother sat beside her bed, and every day she gave Precious the same stern encouragement.
“I’d tell her that she had a big bad bug inside her, and she had to fight this big bad bug,” Shirlee Roby recalls saying to her granddaughter, who happens to be an avid wrestler in her Humboldt County town of Willow Creek.
“I told her she had to put him on the mat and put him in a half-nelson and pin him,” Roby said. “And by golly if she didn’t do it.”

Note: A study has shown that positive affirmations are more effective when you deliver them to yourself  in the third person, using your full name. See this article which references the study.

Cultivating a Conscious Relationship with “The Smalls”

Again, this isn’t something I’ve done yet, but I find it intriguing. Check out the website and work of scientist and animist Siv Watkins. Her video conversation with Daniel Foor (mentioned above) contains many interesting ideas that could be woven into a spiritual and/or magical practice. The feeling I have about this is collaborative and respectful.

On social media, at least one person has suggested making an offering to the spirit of the novel corona virus (Covid-19) to ask it to leave us alone.

Herbal Remedies

The Sassafras School of Appalachian Plant Craft offers a free PDF document which is very well written, called Herbal Treatment for Coronavirus Infection by Stephen Harrod Buhner via their Facebook group. For your convenience, you may also download it here: coronavirus

I’ve come across a caution against using elderberry in this instance. It is apparently okay-ish as a preventative (ask your doctor!!!), but NOT to be used once you get ill, in case your illness is actually Covid-19. This is because of the herb’s normally helpful increase of inflammatory cytokine production can backfire with Covid-19, causing an autoimmune “cytokine storm” at about the third day, which may damage the sick person’s organs, and increase the chances of a fatal outcome. (Scientific evidence of elderberry’s normally helpful impact on cytocine production can be found here.) Also, read Buhner’s PDF above for a better explanation of all this than I can give here. (Echinacea is also contra-indicated for a similar reason, apparently.)

[A word about essential oils and aromatherapy. Don’t please. These products can be bad for children and pets, and for you too. I have studies to prove this. But I’m not posting them here.]

Of course there is a lot I haven’t covered in this blog. I would love it if my readers would share some of the things which they rely upon already, or plan to investigate, in these days of the Covid-19 pandemic.

Wishing us all health in the coming weeks! Thanks for reading!

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