Virtual Happy Hour And Dying Fish

So I texted Kenny yesterday -- he was at work in our local hospital, holed up in his room reading films. The good news was they were as slow as ever -- all elective procedures were canceled, and it was the calm before the storm. I asked about getting together for a virtual happy hour.

Sure enough, at 6 I got a FaceTime call -- he, Joelle, and young Nathan were there. Nathan is in his last semester at Swarthmore, and is now, of course, finishing his course work at home, online. He is a mixologist, and cobbled together some cool looking craft cocktails for them. I shook myself an Absolut Mandarin martini, added a little tonic water for the hopefully curative quinine, and made Wifey a small lemonade in a martini glass. We went outside, and commenced our virtual time. It was actually lovely -- catching up on our kids and grandkids.

I had a second, and was very nicely buzzed. Wifey remained sober on the lemonade. When life sends you covid-19...drink lemonade.  After an hour, we said goodbyes with a toast to healthier times.

For the past few days, I've noticed a rather nasty smell coming from my fish pond. Yesterday I solved the puzzle of its source: the plecos are all dying. Plecos, or plecostomus, are algae eaters. I put a few into the pond probably 10 years ago, and they bred and flourished. Some of them were a good 18 inches, and they kept the rocks clean. They would also sometimes glom onto a passing terrapin and clean the algae from their shells.

Well -- a pleco plague has struck -- they're all dead or dying. The koi and cichlids are fine.  This am I checked, and two of the pleco corpses had been literally fileted -- by either the terrapins, raccoons, or some other scavengers.

These fish die offs happen every several years. A cause this time might be the mating bullfrogs. They mate in the pond each year -- their calls at night are comically loud -- and then there are thousands of tadpoles. That's going on now, and sometimes it makes the water toxic to some of the fish.

Of course, the analogy to our world is clear -- my pond is a microcosm. Individuals live, and come into the world. The pond continues.

Anxiety indeed is on the increase. I saw a neighbor this am, one with a high school and middle school kid. Her nephew is a friend of D1's -- doing GI fellowship in Tampa. She smiled, but then her voice cracked. She is scared. I gave her a virtual hug -- clapping my arms together. She laughed. I told her we'd all get through this.

Speaking of medicine, Dr. Barry had his last Residency Class announced yesterday. He has been the Program Director for 17 years. He is passing the torch to one of his proteges, a very smart PICU doc from Bogota.

It brought me back in time to when he got the job. I guess it was '02. He called me, sounding stern -- could we meet for a drink. I was on my way home -- it was about 5 pm. I said of course, but was concerned -- Barry NEVER asked for last minute get togethers. My mind went to what bad thing it could be -- his young sons? Donna?

We met at Fox's in South Miami. OK -- what was it. Well -- he was asked to take over the Program -- what did I think? I laughed and hugged him. It was like LeBron saying he had been asked to play in the NBA -- what did I think? He was a natural for the job. Of course he should take it. He did.

And for the past 17 years, he has mentored hundreds of budding pediatricians. He is their true father. Several years ago, when D1 worked at his hospital, which was a great time for her --- she'd sneak into her beloved uncle's office and try to tidy it up -- she learned the Residents called him Big Daddy G. And he was.

That era has now passed. He has a group of bright eyed, smart med school grads from all over the world. He'll be there for them, but now they'll have a Colombiana Mom in charge...

I just hope that things are back to normal by the Summer -- so the Program can continue.

Speaking of continuing -- I like the idea of the virtual happy hour. Virtual bedtime stories, too.

Around 9, we got a FaceTime of our beautiful grandson. We read him stories as D1 showed him our pix on the phone. He smiled. At the end, he yawned. Mission accomplished.

I went upstairs, and put on Pat Metheny's "Last Train Home." It always relaxes me, and prepares my mind for dreaming. I dreamt of a world without this damn virus. May it become reality...