Week 12: The View from Halfway Down

The View From Halfway Down: Mental Illness in Television 

Mental health on television shows is a tricky subject to navigate. There are too many examples of mental health being romanticized or villainized in media. For example, in the show 13 Reasons Why, a show that was meant to “start a conversation” about mental health, did the opposite, portraying mental health in an alarmingly negative way. This show opted for romanticizing the subject, showing the lead protagonist, Hannah Baker, as a good person for exploiting 13 of her classmates and teachers on tapes that recorded exactly which part they each played in her suicide. This portrayal of suicide and depression makes it seem like suicide is the right thing to do when all your friends are mean to you and you don’t want to confront your issues. Sure, we have to watch the grueling aftermath of Hannah’s suicide, but her petty tapes keep any lesson from being learned at all. Although this is a common theme among pop culture portrayals of suicide and mental health, there are certain shows that manage to walk the line of mental health perfectly.

While being locked away in my house for the past couple of weeks, I’ve spent a large portion of my time catching up on TV shows. I recently finished the final season of Bojack Horseman, an animated series about a horse who is washed up from his 90s sitcom, Horsing Around, and finds himself struggling to cope with his life and career.

(1) Bojack Horseman 

This show has the best portrayal of mental illness on TV. Instead of blaming all of Bojack’s mistakes on his mental illness, and addictions, the show holds him accountable, along with all of the other characters. When Bojack almost dies and leaves a voicemail to his friend Diane, telling her that if she picked up the phone he wouldn’t die, the show doesn’t make this a “touching” moment between the characters. It manages to mirror reality in an eerily familiar way, and when they meet again after that, Diane is rightly, mad at Bojack, telling him that it wasn’t fair to say something like that to her, especially since there was nothing she could’ve done to help him even if she did pick up. 

If anyone has ever had a close friend or a loved one who struggles with mental health do this to them, you know the feeling, the utter terror that maybe they will do something they might regret, and you're not doing anything to stop it. I have had this happen to me before and I remember after realizing she was okay, I was extremely angry with her for worrying me and my other friend like that since we had spent the past 2 hours calling and calling and crying thinking that our friend was going to die. It isn't some "heroic" act to put blame on other people for your actions, like 13 Reason's Why makes it out to be. 

Bojack constantly has to deal with the pain he caused to others, even if it is when he is on a drunken bender, something that we never see on television, but it is our reality. Mental illness isn’t an excuse to be a bad person, it may cause you to do bad things to the people around you, but that doesn’t make their hurt invalid.

(2) 

This is the right message to send to an audience. That the actions you do may cause harm to other people even if you don’t realize it, and sometimes you have to suck it up and just apologize for it. Drowning in your own sorrows and forcing everyone to pay attention to you, much like Bojack does in earlier seasons, or Hannah Baker does for the entire plot of the show, never solves the issue at hand. 

When Bojack is afraid of facing his TV producers because he feels guilty that he was the reason why the director was fired in Season 2, he runs away to New Mexico. After leaving for so long, he only ends up back in LA with the same problems he had when he left. Much like Hannah Baker, none of her issues were solved from her suicide, besides making everyone around her feel guilty for her death. The difference in the two is that Bojack recognizes this and holds him accountable, showing that running away from your issues isn’t how you solve them, while 13 Reasons Why has an entire plot that revolves around her suicide as a perfectly justifiable way to go about fixing your issues.

(3) Diane and Bojack

Bojack stands out from other shows that deal with mental illness simply because of how well the characters are thought out. Each with their own lives, issues, motivations, backstories, and wants, each of them feels real and human. Through the lens of animation, Bojack is able to show emotions through a visual media in a way I haven’t seen before. For example, in the 10^th episode of season 6, "Good Damage", Diane is trying to write her memoir, but she struggles to even start the book. Since the beginning of the season, Diane is in a healthy relationship and is starting to deal with her depression in a healthy way, after realizing that she was the only one standing in the way of becoming the person she longs to be. But as the pressure from the memoir begins to weigh on her, she finds herself spiraling, unable to write the memoir. Every day is a constant struggle to stay focused, to stay sane, and eventually, days turn to nights in an instant, with no progress on the page. I think a lot of writers can attest to this, I know I have been in this place so many times. The show has a lot of liberty with the animation, and they are able to show her train of thought as she is trying to write and is constantly coming up empty. It was crazy for me to watch this moment on screen, because I know that feeling. 

Although Diane had “fixed” her depression, she still couldn’t write her story, even though the depression is what she originally thought was getting in the way of her writing. This is another example of how well Bojack manages to show mental illness in the show. It never uses it as a crutch to explain away the issues of a character, instead, it shows the reality of these things; just because Diane dealt with depression, doesn’t mean she is ready to write an entire memoir about her past. Often times, writing can feel like that, especially if you had just resurfaced from a bad period of depression, the last thing you would want to do is sit and relay everything that made you depressed in the first place. And it’s okay to not be ready.

One last episode I’d like to point out is season 6 second to last episode “The View From Halfway Down”. This episode directly deals with suicide as it follows Bojack’s half-dead consciousness into limbo as he confronts all of the people close to him who have died in the past; people who's death he feels partially responsible for, or people who he wasn't able to make amends with before they died. Each of the characters do a performance in a variety show like setting, and then die in the same way they died in real life, as Bojack is forced to relive each of their deaths.

(4) Secretariat View From Halfway Down

The reason I bring this very grim episode up is because one of the characters had committed suicide, Secretariat, Bojack’s childhood hero. Instead of pretending like suicide is some be all and end all to your problems, Bojack Horseman managed to do what 13 Reasons Why couldn’t. 

As Hannah Baker died, she left behind tapes for everyone to feel responsible for her death, and when Secretariat meets Bojack in his limbo state, he tells him about the view from halfway down, that when you are falling, you see the view from halfway and you want to turn back, you want to be alive. Although 13 Reasons Why claims that by making Hannah’s death scene so graphic was a way to make people not want to commit suicide, it does the opposite, essentially showing people how to commit suicide. Bojack shows a more positive aspect of it, that even if you are determined to die like Secretariat was, you are still utterly terrified when you see the view from halfway down. It shows the audience that suicide isn’t an answer, it’s scary and permanent and often times those who are falling off of that bridge, hope to wake up alive. It’s a much more positive perspective than 13 Reasons Why, as it essentially shows that is is always better to live and try, rather than to give up.

Bojack has to deal with his own emotions head-on, instead of running from his past issues like he constantly tries to do, he has to come to terms with them. He can’t pretend like they didn’t happen and he can’t use them as an excuse to burden everyone around him, he is the only one who can fix himself. Even though it is a very long and hard journey for Bojack, the season ends with him being alive, and although he hasn’t fixed all of his mistakes he is hopeful and ready to try. 

(5)

This is reality, you can’t rewrite the past, and you can’t pretend like everything will be wrapped up nice and neat with a bow at the end of each episode of your life. Every day you still have to live with yourself, and the only way to make that manageable is to find a way to love yourself, which is something I have learned from an animated show about a horse who lives in a fictional version of Hollywood. Bojack Horseman is the greatest representation of mental illness on television ever, and each time I sit down to watch it I learn something new about not only the characters but myself.  

~

Pictures 

(1) https://www.looper.com/195270/will-bojack-horseman-season-7-ever-happen/

(2) https://www.pinterest.com/pin/398568635750331899/?autologin=true

(3) https://bojackhorseman.fandom.com/wiki/Nice_While_It_Lasted

(4) https://www.imdb.com/title/tt11028174/mediaviewer/rm3454108929

(5) https://quotecatalog.com/quotes/tv/bojack-horseman/

Week 12: My Phantom, Myself

Throughout most of my life, I never really fit in with other people. I was the quite girl in the class, the person who's heard "oh, so you do speak" enough times to be annoying. Maybe it was because I didn't try hard enough, I don't know. When there was a group project, I would elect to do all of the work myself, or wait a few seconds and go up to the teacher and say "I don't have a group" as if I actually tried getting into one. For one English class, the class was thoroughly broken up in its own cliques, usually by who was sitting next to each other. The problem with the students sitting around me was they were all actually friends and I was always the add on they so graciously accepted. Most of the time they didn't include me in the discussion and got to work without giving me a part, leaving me in the corner feeling useless. It's a recurring theme with me. I'm just so useless, I never try.

I never made a lasting friend. Someone you would go out of your way to hang out with, someone you would trust with your secrets. I made several acquaintances with whom I would chat with, but once our schedules no longer coincided, we were back to being strangers. So was I just loathsome, self-deprecating mess? Well, somewhat, but not entirely. I was fine being left alone if I had a good book.

In elementary school I became engrossed in the book series The Land of Elyon. It was a fantasy novel about a young girl who finds a stone that allows her to talk to animals. I would check out one book at the library, finish it in days, and skittishly wait until next week when I could get the next book. Though I do not remember much about the plot, I can vividly recall the shear escapist joy I got while reading. The Wolves of the Beyond was another series I got into, but this time I had to wait for each book fair to get the next installment, as it was ongoing. It took about four years to finish.

Eventually books turned into plot heavy RPG video games, but it was still a sort of way for me to escape myself. People often like to project themselves as the protagonist in an RPG, but not me. I was all too happy to be someone else. Through this, I was able to grasp some semblance of self contentment. I could even say it prevented me from falling into depression. Books and video games gave me a distraction that stopped me from just hating myself all the time, and concentrate that energy into something else. In many ways, I still have a long way to go. But when I feel overwhelmed or worthless, I know I have somewhere for my mind to go.

Week 12: Lucky, I Guess

Like everyone else throughout the world, my last few weeks have been completely dominated by this virus. All concerns for everything else have drifted into the periphery and I, like many others, am left with the sinking feeling that I am not doing enough. After weeks of trying to get my parents, particularly my father, to stay at home, I think I have just now gotten through. I take them their groceries and do my best not to inadvertently infect them. Though my job has been exempted from the mass layoffs that are plaguing our economy, I chose to stay away for 2 weeks, reasoning that it was and is not smart to put myself around anymore people than absolutely necessary. I don’t know if I’ll get this thing, and if I should, I don’t know how it will affect me.

This I believe, is where our collective angst stems from. We don’t yet know enough about this disease to say definitively this is what you should and should not do. We can’t say what is safe and what isn’t. We can’t even determine (for various reasons) who has it and who doesn’t. All of this brings me to what issue I want to write in defense of here.

This particular war has already caught us unprepared. It appears to be one that is, if not winnable than at least survivable. The next one however, may not be. To that end, my issue is that we need to form an international health organization that has some real teeth to deal with something like this in the future. The WHO (World Health Organization) is a good start, but they need far more resources to really have an effect. I have heard politicians, scientists and public health experts alike call for a national stockpile of medical goods in the future to help alter another situation like this. This is a great idea, but it doesn’t go far enough.



I would want to expand this idea into having international medical stockpiles that are under the control of this new health organization. This organization alone would have the say to send these supplies wherever they are needed. If there’s an outbreak of malaria in sub Saharan Africa, they would send whatever resources are needed. Likewise with an outbreak of avian flu in Southeast Asia. Not forcing this organization to be beholden to any particular country would ensure that everyone gets a fair shake, and that it could truly stay neutral and out of politics.



I know that some people will think that I am being naive and foolish. That this too shall pass and we will all return to normality soon. I would simply remind them that a little over a month ago, the events of the last few weeks were unthinkable in the “developed” world. That we were somehow better than this. That we would figure it out where others could not. If the last 6 weeks have done anything, I hope that they have at least humbled us into knowing that anything is possible. That while we should still hope for the best, we have to prepare for the worst. If we can put aside our pride and do that, perhaps next time we can have the luxury of forgetting what this is like.

I believe...

I believe that the maternity and paternity care provided in the United States needs to be completely rethought. As it stands, many mother's and father's do not get more than 6 weeks at home with their new child, and typically the mother is the only person really getting that much time off. If they are lucky, they may work for a company who has better policies in place... but most do not get paid their normal salary, or any money at all while they are home. This is a big point of stress for new parents and many make the difficult choice to go back to work before it is a good idea, or before they are ready.

The way that the United States handles new parents is detrimental to their health, and the health and development of babies. In an article found on childtrends.org, authors Mallory Warner-Richter and Amy Blasberg discuss the impact that paid maternity leave has on parents and children, pointing out that father's who are given longer paid paternity leave are more likely to be involved in the care of their child later on through their lives. They also cite studies that indicate the presence of both parents shows an increase in cognitive development in babies.

These photos show the amount of paid parental leave offered to parents globally.

Being able to stay home and care for your baby in the first year of their life is something that every American parent should be given the opportunity to do. There are so many moments that are full of new and adorable things, and opportunities to bond.

We are lagging far behind other countries: America offers 0 weeks of guaranteed parental leave while countries like Ireland, Vietnam, and the UK offer over 20 weeks or more. These parents are given so much time to bond with their new babies and not have to worry about finances, while parents in America are usually forced to put the child in daycare or the care of other family members so they can keep their job.

When I told my employers, who I had been with for 5 years, that I was pregnant, the first thing that came out of their mouth was "you can have 6-8 weeks off but it will be all unpaid. If you are feeling better before 6 weeks is up, we can discuss you coming back sooner so you can get some hours in."

I chose not to go back, and that works for our family, but that is not the reality for so many others. I am so thankful that I am able to stay home with our little one and take care of her and teach her new things every day, and I will never take that for granted, since I know many other men and women who do not get the same opportunity.

We are not providing the support and care for new families like we should be and I believe that it is time to re-evaluate the way the United States approaches parental leave.

Week 12: Healthy Body, Healthy Mind

I have struggled with depression for the majority of my life. Ever since I was a kid, I always felt sad, but I could never understand why. I would go up to my room and play by myself for hours on end. In middle school, I started to sleep from the moment I got home from school until well into the morning. Nothing made me happy. My parents were somewhat concerned, but they figured that teenagers liked to sleep a lot.

When I got into high school, things got worse. I never wanted to go out with my friends, and I never wanted to be around my family. These lingering thoughts of sadness never seemed to go away, and it even led to thoughts of suicide on more than one occasion.

I was never an active person. Sure, I was on cheerleading squads and dance teams, but I only really participated because I was trying to get the mandatory swim class waved. When I was in my senior year of high school I got sick and had to have emergency surgery to get my gallbladder removed. I dropped fifteen pounds and continued to feel sick all the time.

Within a year I gained the weight back, and then some, which forced me into a deeper depression. I hated my body, and I hated the way I looked. I was unhealthy and had no energy despite the 50+ hours I worked as a server and bartender.

In 2016 I was in a bad relationship, which led to me falling into a pit that I didn't think that I would be able to climb out of. I was having health problems again, and gained more weight; having my gallbladder turned out to not be the problem with my body. In August of that year, I finally listened to my mother's please to start working out. We have a home gym, which made it easier for me because there was no way that I was stepping foot into a gym.

Within a few months, those stubborn pounds that slowly crept up began to fall off. I was exercising five times a week, and eating healthy. But it wasn't just the weight for me. The mental fog that I felt for the last few years started to clear. I was able to handle the stress and anxiety and sadness that I felt all the time. Running cleared my mind, and it almost started to get addicting. Whenever I felt sad, I would lace up my tennis shoes and go for a jog on the treadmill, and when I was done, I felt better. According to the Mayo Clinic, working out and other forms of physical activity can ease symptoms of depression or anxiety. This is because when you exercise, you release endorphins, which are brain chemicals that can enhance your sense of wellbeing.

It didn't get rid of my depression, but it helped. It still helps. As a senior who is graduating in a few weeks, my stress has been sky-high, and with everything going on with COVID-19, the future is uncertain. The jobs that I have been interviewing for have been put on hold, and the endless positions that I saw online have suddenly disappeared. I am not competing with the millions of people who have just lost their jobs.

I feel an abundance of emotions right now, but I'm trying not to give into them. Instead, I make sure I get my daily work out in and eat as healthy as I can even though I'm sitting in the kitchen staring at the bag of chips on the counter. Working out is hard, and sometimes I feel like I am dragging my feet to the treadmill, but when I'm done, I'm glad that I persevered. The sadness still hangs over my head, but it has gotten better. If you are ever feeling sad, anxious, or depressed, try a workout. I promise you will not regret it.

week 12: Free for All

I have always gelt very strongly about the idea that healthcare should be free to all, but we live in a government and society when people assume that it is a privilege, not a right.

When someone's mother gets diagnosed with breast cancer, but cannot afford the treatment, is that fair? Is it fair that she must suffer?

Today, we are facing a crisis in our healthcare system. With this, crisis, we see that people could be turned down for treatment of a very infectious disease specifically because they are poor.

As a sociologist, we hear of the term "culture of poverty". This is the belief that some people have which means that poor peoples are poor because that is all they know how to be, so they refuse to work harder to get out of it. As I am sure you can probably imagine, that entire idea is bullcrap. People are poor because of a lack of education and lack of opportunity. How is that their fault? and why does that make them any less deserving of being taken care of than anyone who has money?

Week 12: Enjoy Your Worries, You May Never Have Them Again.

Two weeks ago, I dropped groceries off to my Grandparent's house so that my Grandma would not have to go out in public during such an unprecedented time. I spent 15 minutes at her house, unloading her groceries for her. When I arrived, she came out from her bedroom and told me how grateful and appreciative she was for me bringing them food, as she has been feeling a little bit under the weather and had her doctor call her in a prescription for a sinus infection. She had just taken my Grandpa to the Cleveland Clinic over the weekend to discuss a surgery that was planned for my Grandpa to replace his leaking heart valve. 

When I was finished unloading her groceries, I told her I loved her and that she better call me if she needs anything else because I don't want her going out to the stores right now until this is all over. We elbow bumped, and she watched me from her front door until I got into my car and drove away, smiling and waving good-bye to me in her white robe. 

I left her house thinking about something my Grandpa had told me when I was there, unloading the groceries; something about how my Grandma was coughing a lot and didn't sound good. I couldn’t get myself to recall exactly what he said; this new world felt surreal to me, and I never could imagine my family to be impacted by this epidemic.

 While my Grandma assured me it was a sinus infection, I called my Mom just to let her know that my Grandma sounded sick and she should try to give her a call and check on her too. My Grandma is a person who will always tell you, "I'm fine, don't worry about me". She’s been like that her whole life, very tough and always taking care of everyone else.

That next Thursday morning, my Mom called me at 7:00 a.m. in a panic. She said she checked in on my Grandma and was worried, especially because of all the Covid-19 stuff that is circulating the news right now. To be safe, my Mom rushed over to their house and called my Grandma's primary care doctor. He instructed my Mom to take her to the ER, only after he made a phone call letting them know that my Grandma was on her way. My Mom told me that my Grandma was having a hard time breathing and had a fever, and although my Grandma was pissed at my Mom for dragging her to the ER, she complied because we all would rather be safe than sorry. 

My Mom then walked my Grandma up to the doors of the Emergency Room, where a hospital police officer was standing to guard the doors. Because of the virus outbreak, my Mom could not come in with my Grandma. My Grandma was admitted to the hospital alone. Her symptoms were originally not deemed as severe enough to be admitted at that time, despite my Mom's desperate claims that she must be there since she is so old. She was only admitted because she had an irregular heart beat. She tested negative for Flu A and Flu B, yet the hospital was still considering whether or not to test her for coronavirus. 

After a few more tests, and a few more hours of deliberation, my Grandma was finally tested. They said it would be 3-4 days until she were to get her results back, so she was to stay in isolation there until then. Because of the uncertainty surrounding my Grandma’s diagnosis, my Mom and my Grandpa were ordered to quarantine until they received her test results back, and if she is to test positive, they were to quarantine for another 14 days. My Grandpa cannot take care of himself on his own as my Grandma is his primary caretaker, so my Mom began staying at their house to take care of him and their dog Lizzie while my Grandma was in the hospital. 

The following Friday morning, my Grandma quickly began to lose her voice, and couldn't speak without coughing. She was given very strong cough medicine that did not seem to work. Because of her cough, it made it extremely hard for us to call her on her cell phone because she struggled to get even one word out, let alone a sentence. I am lucky to have Grandma that knows how to work her Iphone and text, because that is mostly the only thing we were able to do if we wanted to stay in contact with her while she was there. She was put in an isolation room, something she described to be similar to a ziplock tent, where the doctors and nurses had to unzip the door to get in and out. Being the tough woman she is, she still continued to text my Mom and I that she was fine, and that we better not worry about her. 

I last spoke with my Grandma on her 3rd day in the hospital. She could only call me after getting another dose of cough medicine my Mom said, so I waited patiently for her call. Her voice did not sound like her. She sounded like a character from a movie, like Beetlejuice. 

Earlier that day I had talked to my Mom, who said that the nurses had found my Grandma early in morning on the floor of her room. She was given Ambien to sleep, so we were told by the hospital staff that they think she may have fallen out of her bed from being so sedated. She was immediately rushed to get a CT scan to make sure she did not hurt anything. Luckily, she was okay. 

I was heartbroken when I heard that she had asked the nurses if she was going to die that morning. I cried when my Mom told me that. My poor Granny. All I wanted to do was be at her side, tell her everything was going to be okay. 

When she finally called my cellphone, I told her not to force herself to talk if it was going to be hard for her, or if it was going to make her cough too much. I just wanted to tell her I love her, and that I am thinking about her and she will be better soon. She told me she feels bad that my Mom is taking care of my Grandpa and their dog while she was there. She has always been so caring and selfless, and it hurt my heart to know that she felt bad for being so sick. She ended our phone call with the same thing she has always told me after every phone call, what she has always written in every birthday and holiday card. 

“I love you forever and a day” she said. 

The next morning my Mom called me hysterically crying. My Grandma was rushed to the ICU. She could not breathe on her own, and needed to be intubated and put on a ventilator to help with her breathing. She had tested positive for coronavirus. My Mom just kept saying on the phone, "I am so sorry Al. I am so sorry". I fell to my knees crying. I knew she was where she needed to be as she was in critical condition, but I wish we could be there with her; holding her hand, letting her know how tough she is and that we are there for her.  

***

My Grandma and I,  Mothers Day (2001)

It is now my Grandma’s 14th day on a ventilator, and her 18th day in the hospital. She spent her 80th Birthday on a ventilator. That was one of the hardest days for my family. We couldn’t even call her to sing her “Happy Birthday”. She has been fully sedated and the rules of the hospital do not allow the nurses to go on her phone. I could not see my Mom or Grandfather for the 14 days that this was all happening.

 While the Health Department ordered them to quarantine, for some reason they did not believe I would have been compromised from the virus for being there for the 15 minutes that I was, the day before my Grandma went to the hospital. Despite this, I have stayed home this entire time. 

My Grandma has been my closest ally, my best friend for as long as I could remember. She has always been there for me, giving me advice when I need it, urging me to stay at her house when I am sad. Throughout the entirety of my life, I have had a very close relationship with my Grandparents. The idea of ever losing them terrifies me, especially in this way. 

 While this entire experience has been hills and valleys, she has been hanging in there for us. She is still in the ICU on a ventilator, and she still has fluid in her lungs, now receiving dialysis because her kidneys have been affected by this virus. Despite all of these complications, her vitals have remained stable throughout the entirety of her stay in the ICU. My family and I continue to pray that she will come home to us. 

I later spoke to the nurse who intubated her, and she told me that right before they did, my Grandma told her, “I will not be another statistic, and I will fight with everything in me so that I am not”. While this experience has been the most emotionally exhausting and agonizing pain I have ever felt in my life, I know she is tough and I believe she will defy the odds. She is beginning to show signs of progress, and I wish I could be there to tell her how proud I am of her. 

 In the midst of a Global Pandemic, I think it’s natural that we question “Who is to blame?”.

 Who is at fault for the thousands of lives lost to this virus? Do we blame China where the virus originated? Or, do we blame the Federal Government for the delayed response? The secrecy and misinformation presented to the American people for almost 3 months prior to the declaration of a National Emergency? Or, should we blame our neighbors? The fellow American citizens who neglected to adhere to the CDC and World Health Organization’s suggestions to prevent a major deadly spread?

I think everyone has a little bit of blood on their hands, obviously some more than others. The problem with this is, assigning blame to someone or something for what is going on will not cure this virus. We cannot go back in time and change our Government’s delay of action against this, so I believe it is detrimental that we, as American citizens, take action into our own hands. As a nation and a community, each and every one of us have the power to stop the spread. This is not a time to be selfish; shame on all of those who continue to go and hangout with their friends, going from house to house and potentially spreading this to other peoples family members and loved ones. 

As a community, we must make up for what was not done for us; I urge everyone to stay home unless it is undeniably necessary for the health of the household to leave. I urge you to make trips to the grocery store and pharmacy sparingly; please do not go unless you are facing the threat of starvation or a medical complication. I understand that it feels impossible to have to stay in the house for days on end, and trust me, I too would love to see my friends and go to the store, or even just feel some type of human connection. But I do not wish this feeling of agonizing pain and anxiety that my family and I have been personally subjected to, on anyone else. I cannot describe how thankful I am, and how lucky I feel, that miraculously, neither my Mom nor my Grandpa had gotten sick too.

My heart aches for those who have already lost their loved ones this way. To know that someone you love has to fight for their life, fight to love again, fight to laugh again, fight to come home to their family in one piece rather than in a box full of ashes, is something that no one should have to go through. And people already have had to experience this. This is not a “hoax”, this is not just a “bad flu” that will be eradicated by warm weather, and this is not “fake news”. This is a real virus that is taking real people, and causing real sadness. Please stay home. If you see others on social media who are not doing that, please say something. Please remind them of the damage that their actions can cause to others, and the families that are torn apart as a result of this. Please don't let those who have already fallen victim to this virus have died in vain, only to become just another number. Please make sure that your Grandma does not have to go through what my Grandma is going through right now. Please don't let my Grandma's story go unheard.

Please do your part, or we will all reap the consequences.