Hope, fear, longing. Fuck all of you.

I am angry.

I’m aware of the consequences, but will continue to be angry.

Angry at the lack of resources we seem to have access to.

Angry at the social isolation that I and others feel in these past and coming weeks.

Angry that we could have done so much better and so much more to prepare.

Angry that a virus will unnecessarily kill people due to overburdening of the health care system.

Angry at the media who caused hysteria among all, except the people that really needed to be.

The only people that should have been “panicking” and over-preparing are our government officials and health care organizations.

I am so angry, I don’t care if I seem bias and point fingers

I am angry that I am dumbfounded about our lack of preparedness.

The lack of appropriate protocols, the lack of information and support, the lack of urgency.

My mom isn’t just a number. My dad isn’t just a number. We are not just a number but a single human being.

The virus is impacting a subset of people who are infected, but the aftershocks of this are going to be felt in a lot of different areas. The sort of emotional, psychological toll on health care workers will probably lead to people leaving medicine. That’s what my dad used told me early on March.

Now it seems like the idea is that people are dispensable. That’s something you can’t really get over — this kind of callousness for human life. 

For many people things are now getting progressively intense. People are only leaving the house for their weekly shop – and spending a lot of that time waiting in the queue – or to exercise once a day. 

In my family I guess things are a bit different. Our driveway is usually empty during the day as my parents, who are doctors, go in to work. It’s always been that way. I’m not there, so i’m just merely guessing and picture the situation of what could have been. It is difficult to imagine how only some weeks ago my main worries were around my uni project. Now every day, I hear about deaths from coronavirus. I cannot help but feel a surge of fear for my parents as I watch these updates through afar. I’m painfully aware of the many healthcare workers who have lost their lives. What I’m not aware of is the feeling of realizing that someday, it could be my parents that were affected. Now I knew. 

My parents are carrying on with their work with as much semblance of normality as possible. We talked about this, and they have this protocols to change before they leave work and again straight after coming home. They avoid all contact with each other until they’ve had a shower and disinfected things thoroughly.

At the start we’ve discussed about all this. About what might to come. My dad sleeps in the guest room as they realized that there was more risk of infection as the both of them works in a hospital. In spite of their best efforts to wash their hands repeatedly and set up a hygiene station in the hallway, my mother caught coronavirus. My heart breaks into pieces. I hope my dad is well and healthy. 

“Kamu jangan pulang. Belajar yang baik dan tunggu disana sampai keadaan kembali normal ya.”

That was always been the things that my parents would tell me if I said that I want to go home. I miss home. I get that they’re trying to protect me, but what’s the point of geting all the protection in the world when the people that you really care about is not getting any?

I wish my parents weren’t a doctor
I wish I wasn’t terrified at what they may be asked to do
I wish they could live and self isolate like what the majority of people would do

I’m so proud of our medical workers and the effort that they made for our community. I’m so proud of my parents. But had our leaders done more to prepare, perhaps difficult decisions like these wouldn't be necessary.

I am so angry.