On
22 March I received an email from David Moloney at DLT requesting whether his authors,
of which I count it a great honour to be one, could perhaps contribute a piece for
sharing online during these dark and difficult times. Sadly for me, I was lying
in the COVID-19 isolation ward at the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital, on
multiple antibiotics, oxygen and IV fluids. The question was whether I was
lying there or dying there? The answer is clear, I have been lucky and I was
not dying, hence I’m writing this piece.
I
write as both a cancer surgeon, scientist and pilgrim. My book, The Journey:
Spirituality, Pilgrimage, Chant was all about repetitive chant, the Celtic
concept of ‘thin’ holy places and the joys of long distance walking. For many
years during Lent I have rather smugly tried to do something positive every day
for someone else (over and above normal patient care) and to visit a
consecrated site on a daily basis. This year the added master plan had been to
walk with my family from Ely to Walsingham as a pre-Easter pilgrimage and then
travel onwards to Iona for Easter itself.
All
of these plans of course were swept away by a trip into the genuine wilderness.
Just over two weeks ago there was much joking in the operating theatre that we
all had dry coughs, then shortness of breath started the following day and then
another 24 hours later high temperatures. I stayed at home alone and isolated
for 6 days but, instead of my much prayed for deliverance, things went from bad
to worse and I became confused. A friend picked up on this over the phone and
pushed me to go to the hospital. This was lucky; my oxygen levels, as he had
surmised were inadequate. Another friend facilitated my admission into
hospital.
That
morning as I left my home, I wondered if I would ever see it again, but far
worse was the isolation of knowing I might never see any of my four children
ever again. This is the truly awful aspect of this virus; you die alone with no
visitors allowed, no farewells, no touch of the hand, no hugs, just isolation
in the desert of an isolation ward. The only people you see wear masks, there
are no faces.
Through
all of this, smell and taste are removed and even worse the rare condition of dysgeusia;
what is that? I had never heard of it but it is where things that should taste
good are truly awful, enough to make you spit out your food and brush your
teeth to get rid of the awful flavour. So you eat nothing for days on end. This
all goes along with wild hallucinations which would go on all night, usually
involving some fixed ideation around drowning in one’s own sweat and
secretions; these would feel like dreams, then one would wake up lathered in
sweat and breathless only to plunge again and again into the same nightmare.
I
always struggle with requesting prayer; as a scientist repetitive prayer and
chant sit more comfortably. However, the sniff of mortality tends to bring a
run on requesting prayer! As a doctor, of course I am also obsessed with
statistics. Now the COVID-19 story we all know is 1% mortality - not terrible,
but not great, and really bad if you are in the 1%. However, this belies some
truths; if you are 35 years-old and healthy, your chance of dying is less than
0.1%, if you’re sixty you hit 1%, but at the point you go to hospital with
pneumonia and a bit of adult respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS) it goes up to
5 - 10%, and if you are on a ventilator it’s over 50%. To put that into
perspective, when we do massive cancer surgery we never quote death rates above
10%. This virus is scary, make no mistake. It lands you in the wilderness, the
worst I have ever experienced; the Lenten experience you don’t want, but that
is thrust upon one.
In
all of this though, happily for me, came a number of angelic presences in the
form of some really caring nurses and doctors; people of great empathy and understanding
of the physical and psychological tortures of their patients, all living with
the high risk of contracting the virus themselves. I received much skilful care
from these attendants, as well as so many messages of love, support and prayers
and friendship from family and friends, and thanks to all of this I believe I
came to deliverance, back to my children and home.
I
arrived back half dead but very much alive and I am improving daily. I have two
pilgrimages planned for later in the year, one to the Isle of Revelation,
Patmos, the other to Palestine where, ironically the plan is to venture into
the desert where Christ spent his 40 tumultuous days. Fifteen days in the corona
desert proved more than enough for this pilgrim.
In
the next few months, or whenever we are all allowed to travel again, go on a pilgrimage,
walk, chant and experience this great depth to life, seek the hidden door. ‘Ask,
and it shall be given you, seek, and ye shall find; knock and it shall be
opened unto you.’ (Matthew 7:7)
I
will finish with a quote from the great Greek man of letters George Seferis:
‘The
day before, a little after midnight, “I was in the Isle which is called
Patmos”. As dawn was breaking, I was in Chora. The sea was motionless and like
metal bound the islands around. Not even a leaf breathed in the strengthening
light. The peace was a shell without the slightest fracture. I remained
transfixed by its influence; then I felt I was whispering: “Come and see…”.
***
Each
day, we will post a short article by one of Darton, Longman and Todd’s amazing
authors, offering a personal reflection on our current situation in life.
Sometimes this will be written with reference to one of their books, and
sometimes about how they are living in response to the coronavirus and our
current world situation. We hope it will give you a taste of the depth and
diversity of DLT’s list – books for heart, mind and soul that aim to meet the
needs and interests of all.
Today’s
post is by Dr J. Richard Smith, author of The Journey: Spirituality,
Pilgrimage, Chant. You can buy a copy of the book in print or as an
eBook here.
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