Those of us with a slightly (or more) warped sense of humor find ourselves conflicted during times of crisis when empathy and compassion are the order of the day.  Fortunately or unfortunately, whatever gene takes us to the dark side of humor is unaffected by war, terrorism or now a global pandemic.  That became evident yesterday during a phone call with my cousin.

After checking up on each others’ well-being, we began to talk about the impact this pandemic has had on our lives.  As is now being documented in the media, we are NOT in this together.  Some of us have spacious homes and back yards where we can enjoy many routine comforts or “anti-social distancing” for a few minutes.  Some of us do not anxiously await a relief check to pay the rent or buy the next meal.  Some of us are not confined to a residential facility where one coronavirus carrier threatens the safety of a hundred others.

Despite that realization, my sick humor gene still kicks in.  First, it was the advantage of age.  “You know, there IS an up side of being seniors.  The trade off of being old is we are more likely to die from the virus, but at least we do not have to put up with our children 24/7.”

The next one-liner focused on the value of the “coronavirus alibi” to avoid things you do not want to do.   Last week I had an on-line annual checkup with my family doctor.   Having just reached the tender age of 70, he suggested I have a colonoscopy, which fortunately falls into the category of elective procedures.  “Forget the debate over the acceptable number of people who have to die to re-open the economy.  My concern is how long the shutdown needs to be in force to delay my colonoscopy.” (I cannot wait to see what Larry David comes up with for next season on Curb Your Enthusiasm.)

But as Arlo Guthrie said, “That is not what I came here to talk about.”  For me, “too soon” more aptly refers to the time frame in which so many lives have ended over the past two months. Some are obvious.

• EMT Gregory Hodge of the New York Fire Department, age 59, a first responder on 9/11.
• Quen Agbor Ako, 53, worked at a nursing facility in Randallstown, Maryland, leaving behind a husband and four children.
• Cody Lyster, 21, a college student and member of the baseball team at Colorado Mesa University.

However, I find it hard to have any less sympathy for those who led what anyone would surely describe as long and full lives before being prematurely struck down by the virus. Consider the following.

• Patricia Bosworth, actor and biographer, age 86, who appeared in “The Nun’s Story” with Audrey Helpburn and chronicled the careers of Marlon Brando, Jane Fonda and Montgomery Clift.
• Ellis Marsalis, Jr., 85, who inspired and mentored generations of jazz musicians including his own sons.
• Retired federal judge Kevin Thomas Duffy, 87, who presided at the World Trade Center bombing trial in 1993.
• Dr. John Murray, 92, who ironically specialized in acute respiratory distress.

These feelings apply not only to the famous or those with distinguished resumés.  They cover every elderly grandparent or great-grandparent, every educator or mentor, every role model who had one more hug, one more teaching moment or one more example to share.

It does not matter if they had died of natural or non-virus related causes one day, week, month or year later.  COVID-19 has robbed us, even if only briefly, of their talent, knowledge, experience and inspiration.  Each and every death accelerated by the coronavirus, regardless of the victim’s age, is one death TOO SOON.  Stay well.  

For what it’s worth.
Dr. ESP