Life Challenge: From a friendly and kind guy I became an obsessive person for cleanliness


The corona made us a hysterical people and me a person full of phobias. Fear surrounds morning, noon and night life. Like the last of the elderly, my ears and eyes are attached to the news flashes, the special transmitters and the current affairs programs on radio and television.

I must always be updated to know, among other things, where the daily contagion centers are, in order to stay away from them as much as possible. As far as I’m concerned, they’ll lower my nose and rub my ears – just not snatch Corona. The high fever, loss of taste and all the discomfort associated with the disease are fatal to me.

Accordingly every spark of a small cough heard in the distance ignites into a bonfire of apprehension, and a mouse intensifies into a speculative elephant. Or rather, to her mammoth. This mindset intensifies my feelings dozens of times, and as a result, when I walk near people in a closed shopping center or just in the open air, I will roar at them without any prior preparation and without shame: “Put a mask on your nostrils too, sir, you want to infect us all. ? “.

I changed completely. The serenity left me in favor of constant tension. Within a few weeks I had transformed from a friendly and loving person into an obsessive monster for cleanliness and social distance. The recommended two meters no longer satisfy me – three is the minimum. And the best? Not to be in the company of human beings at all. For me hygiene is above all. Before I sit in a cafe, for example, I will make sure to spray with an alcohol spray concentrated objects and people that are around me. Chair, table and salt shakers. And if the waiter does not devoutly follow the instructions when it comes to burqa face-level coverage in Mecca, I will get up and go with demonstrated and loud contempt.

This reality changes simple everyday operations and turns them into a military operation. This week, when I took my daughter out of kindergarten in the afternoon, I engineered my movement as if I were at least Mikhail Brishnikov. I moved in a colorful dance between parents and gardeners, skipping and bouncing. I avoided saying hello and making eye contact, and I was not nice at all. Without “Hello”, without “What does it sound like?”. Excuse me, Mrs. Hannah Bavli, but my health is more important than manners and manners.

The most stressful thing for me comes when the little one coughs on me. Suddenly, without prior preparation, she turns her head to me and bursts into a series of deep throaty voices. All her whining makes me want to send her on vacation with one of her aunts. I stopped going to the gym. at all. I pay to dozens of toning and strengthening institutions where I have a monthly appointment, even though I have not been to any of them recently. The fear that some particularly muscular type will sneeze in my direction at the height of a weightlifting and fill me with a drop spray deters me more from the dialogue with the belly that has swelled in the meantime.

And what about the demonstrations that regularly take place on Balfour Street in Jerusalem and on bridges all over the country? Protest is always a welcome thing, no matter which side of the map you are on. But it’s hard for me to think of democracy and other vegetables when everyone around is so close. Enough of a wayward police water jet that would throw a mask at a person who carries the contagious virus in his body – and walked on all of us. I prefer to sit in my fortified house.

Protest demonstration in Tel Aviv (Photo: Avshalom Shashoni)

The stress of maybe being accidentally infected does not leave me. He sends me 24 hours a day, seven days a week to the fridge and pantry. This is because one of the most obvious symptoms that experts repeatedly point out about the presence of the virus in a patient’s body is loss of sense of taste.

When the corona lands on the sick person’s body, he swallows the wine like water, and the smoothie and honey go down his throat in the same way. So to determine with certainty that I did not catch the virus, my mouth works overtime: sour, sweet, salty, everything is compressed inside. Flips through my tongue and sends stress-relieving messages to the brain that there is nothing to worry about. Right now.

Three weeks ago I did a test. The result was negative. But since then many planes have passed through the Yarkon waters near the drive-in, and many celebs have been registered as infected. Who knows, maybe by the time this column is published there will be another result and I will be sitting tucked away in my home, far away from anyone, with a corona whose symptoms are a cough ripping throat and fever skyrocketing.

Despite the many precautions and my psychological and real war with this trouble, at the end of the disease I will function. I suppose them all. In the second, third or ninth wave we will all be infected, and then we will understand that national and global anxiety was in vain, because mass infection is inevitable.


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