Dr. Jill, Dr. Phil, Dr. Bill (as in Cosby) and Dr. Pepper? The only doctor I care about as of now is my own primary care physician Dr. Scott Bernstein. Last Saturday he emailed his patients an informative newsletter on the available therapeutics and vaccine news, which started its roll-out this past Monday.
He made us aware that our state (Arizona) is exploding in caseloads and deaths, and the winter looks dire. BUT … help is on the way. He explained the variations between the leading vaccines which have been approved, and assured us he would have the Moderna version in his office by mid-January for those of us who fit the “1-B&C” category of elderly, essential workers, teachers, high-risk 65, etc. My sleeve is rolled up. I am ready, as is my 98-year-old mom.
Dr. Bernstein warned us not to get too excited about the shots yet, as it will take close to a year before the majority of the general population will be vaccinated. And THEN we can start talking about jumping on an airplane free and easy to Cabo. So, for God’s sake, continue to mask up and wash hands and keep social distancing. By the way, he receives his own shot at the end of this week and promises to report to me his reaction.
Supposedly there are side effects like fatigue, muscle aches, low-grade fever and injection site soreness which people may experience for a day or two. He assured me; “remember a reaction means your immune system is working – that’s a good sign.” But it was his newsletter and follow-up call that gave me the feeling that the headlights of hope are in view.
This week the news photos of elderly and medical frontline workers getting vaccination needles in their bare upper arm was the visual starting gun of pandemic control we’ve all been waiting for.
Politics has burned me out — I don’t want to hear or see from another election, run-off race, or candidate that turns out to be a crook, a fraud, a thief, a predator or a tax cheat with a bad cough. I’m now toast on it all.
I am setting my eyes on the medical developments. Medicine and science now have our future in their hands. Forget CNN, MSNBC or Fox — I want medical networks to watch with real hourly data of their own. And not just Dr. Fauci as its star anchorman. It’s the medics not the politicos that will set the tone for our country this year.
Last week Time magazine announced its “Personality of the Year”. It was Biden and Harris. Really? Why not Covid (which affected the world for better or worse. Wasn’t Bin Laden “Man of the Year” in 2001 … No, it was Rudy Giuliani!). Better still, it should have been the medical frontline teams or Amazon delivery people (Jeff Bezos already was in 1999). It really doesn’t matter since Time and the year-end issue have become irrelevant within the last five years.
I get that everyone needs an intermission from all the death and destruction. Pandemic fatigue is real. We all need a flight of fancy, but most of us can’t leave our home base. Besides, even reading about trips to exotic places at a time like this seems more than tone deaf. It is sunbathing while Rome burns.
No wonder Christmas lights have become the current great escape. Seeing bright lights in a big city or anywhere symbolizes more than receiving a Tiffany bauble. And the brighter the shiny décor, the better. Lately it looks like everyone has strung themselves up in a haze of twinkle lights — anywhere and everywhere. Call it another DIY distraction but perhaps we are all trying to light our own path out of this dark tunnel.
As it says in “We Need A Little Christmas Now” from Jerry Herman’s show “Mame”:
It’s time we hung some tinsel on the evergreen bough …
For I’ve grown a little leaner, grown a little colder
Grown a little sadder, grown a little older
And I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder …
For we need a little music, need a little laughter
Need a little singing, ringing through the rafter
And we need a little snappy, happy ever after!
One thing is for sure, I’d rather spend money on lights and enormous tips for all the service people than gifts. My doctor sent me a bottle of Pepto Bismol in lieu of pink champagne.
My dear pal Ronaldo Maia (longtime celebrity florist at 1143 Park Ave, known for his masterful floral “landscapes”, baskets, and assorted flora and fauna) UPS’ed me a box of his popular scented sachet bags with a provocative note; “No matter what you call your bag … Maia scented pouches is what will give her life.” Ah yes — simple luxury — no Prada or Gucci needed! Maia is beloved for his show stopping windows and store interior. In fact, he has been lighting up his neighborhood for 44 years. That is a celebration in itself!
If the idea of a new President and administration doesn’t thrill you — here’s a thought. How about a face lift? That long wanted boob, nose, or chin job? Apparently plastic surgery is booming in Covid. The masks, extended time spent at home, and no socializing gives you the perfect recovery time. A local plastic surgery clinic sent out a notification assuring their patients; “As soon as we’re ‘back to normal’ you can count on a flurry of invitations, outings and get-togethers. We can help you look and feel your best for your big post-pandemic debut.” Providing you are still alive!
They are also offering discounts on mole and skin tab removal for the next month. It’s a holiday skin care sale! Come one … Come all!
This should be great news for actor Michael Douglas, who was reported to have confessed he has let himself go during lockdown and is willing to get another face lift “to keep his romance with actress wife Catherine Zeta Jones burning.” According to the Globe, “His makeover is long overdue, and he’s got the money and the time to make Catherine happy. He’s had facelifts before, but they have worn off and he looks terrible. His jowls are loose, and his earlobes are drooping.” Whose aren’t, and we aren’t even married to Catherine Zeta Jones!
But obviously there are different “renewal” strokes for different folks. I would prefer to dump the Botox injections to get THE virus immunization injection to prolong my life, not just my sexual appeal. Priorities are everything!
Finally, for signaling that hope is actually on the rise, my wonderful Astrologer John A. Prokop (jet@IJ.net) sent me an alert that the planets Jupiter and Saturn are headed for the closest alignment in 800 years on December 21st, which is also the Winter Solstice!
Last January we lived through a conjunction of Saturn, Pluto and Jupiter in Capricorn, and voila! We got Covid! This December 21st alignment is in Aquarius — that is a better astral sign. According to John:
“Lots of opportunities for personal change and growth. However, there will be work for you to do to accomplish those goals. Dreams and the cultural, political and personal unrest will be hashed out — not without some conflict since Jupiter and Saturn are opposites. One is constrictive (Saturn), the other is extravagant (Jupiter). BUT Aquarius is the sign of the humanitarian so there will be the perfect stage to work out the collaboration and compromise. With Jupiter it will promise to be generous and expansive and with Saturn there will be consequences and lessons learned”.
So, watch the night sky on December 21st for the beginning of the “push/pull” new momentous occasion.
John did send me a picture of this, which is more to the point:
He also sent a human version of the alignment, and added: “Uranus is missing because of the eclipse of the moon.”
So even our heavenly stars are cueing us to “keep hope alive” … and “stay lit.”