Well, well. The karma hokey pokey turned itself around, and that was what it was all about.
On October 2nd, 2020, only two days after his dismal performance at the debate, POTUS and FLOTUS both tested positive for Covid, shortly after his advisor Hope Hicks reported her infection. That Guy sent out a tweet confirming his test results and that he was headed into quarantine, only a few hours before telling a rally audience the pandemic end was in sight.
The world reacted accordingly. The Dow Jones took a dive. Nation-state leaders issued consolations. The internet more or less imploded, stoking a new fire of invigorated, partisan passions of division. Lefties lauded the comeuppance of the man who refused to wear masks and constantly downplayed the severity of the virus. Righties barked back with accusations of unpatriotic apathy.
I had to admit at the time it’d be right up That Guy’s alley to craft a fake infection ploy for garnering voter sympathy. It drew attention away from the assortment of gaffes hounding him then; the debate fiasco, the New York Times tax return exposé, the trailing poll numbers, and the tacit endorsements of white supremacists. A successful recovery would also booster his continued platform that Covid wasn’t that big of deal – despite his admissions to Woodward that it was – and the country had to get on with reopening of businesses. If he faked it, it’d have been a surprising strategy, given how That Guy always hated to show weakness of any kind.
Regardless of whether it was a genuine diagnosis or a subversive election tactic, it spoke to the precariousness of our national identity, when there were so many folks who secretly relished a certain sitting president dying while in office.
Purportedly he was treated with the Regeneron antibody cocktail and to wit, wasn’t given any of his personally hyped hyroxychloroquine treatment. He was reportedly in good spirits, had mild symptoms. If it was a ploy, you gotta hand it to those backroom jokers behind the throne. If he came out of quarantine glowing in recovery, boasting that he beat it and he was ready to resume those executive duties with a reelection and four more years of making America great again, it might’ve given him an additional five-to-midnight jolt in his approval ratings. And if he did indeed come down with the bug, he had nobody to blame but himself.
I knew enough about the virus not to wish it on anyone, not even the incompetent bozo running the show. I never wish harm on others. Invoking black voodoo is a foolish action. It always comes back to haunt you. Nonetheless, plenty of social media commentary ran with it, many people praying that he would succumb to the virus, ridding the world of his continued disorder. Pundits and journalists madly engaged in rat-a-tat discourse on the possibilities of That Guy’s post-Covid future. What happened to the campaign and the election if he died? Would the election get postponed if That Guy lingered in the disease as many did? What would happen if That Guy ended up debilitated or incapacitated, unable to continue his duties as POTUS? What if after two straight years of endless campaign culture, we had to delay the vote only 30 days before the election?
In any case, regardless of how I felt about him as a human being, nobody deserves asphyxiating to death. As I’ve said before, I’ve seen it firsthand. It’s one of the more deplorable ways in which to perish.
And so, his sick leave commenced. According to White House physicians, out of an abundance of caution, he was admitted to the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Washington, D.C. If he was feigning it, he was really taking it to the mat. Marine One landed on the south lawn at the White House to take him to the hospital, cameras clicking all the while. Cable news analysts all sounded worried. If he died, the repercussions would’ve been monumental. ‘Poetic justice’ was the term being tossed around by disgruntled lefties. Most folks wished him a speedy recovery, even ardent detractors including his presidential opponent. Biden’s campaign retracted all their negative campaign ads, Obama sent conciliatory well wishes. The CNN anchors and analysts observed respect of the office in reverent tones.
The only people who continued to bark at one another were social media warriors on both sides. Lefty or righty, the potential demise of a sitting president was no small potatoes. People were nervous. We all recalled what happened to national morale the last time an incumbent died in office, though that was in much more dramatic fashion. The President of the United States represents us as a people, for better or worse. If he went south, left or right or center, we were all gonna feel it.
QAnon conspiracy advocates were stoked about his diagnosis. Despite their ongoing claims Covid-19 was a lie to deflect attention away from Hollywood’s satanic pedophile rings, the Q world’s latest hatchet job was asserting That Guy’s admission of infection was a power move on the deep state, an undercover job that would result in the long-awaited arrest of Hillary Clinton. They interpreted a portion of his diagnosis announcement as code for his covert spy craft: “Tonight, FLOTUS and I tested positive for Covid-19. We will begin our quarantine and recovery process immediately. We will get through this TOGETHER!” As in, That Guy was going To Get Her. Oy vey. See what I mean about words and semantics? They’re dangerous. Any old yokel can tweak ‘em to their satisfactions. Me included.
He released a video for the media expressing thanks for all the support before boarding Marine One, said he was feeling fine, he was headed to Walter Reed just to be careful. He didn’t look terrific in the video, but to be fair, That Guy never looks like he’s a picture of wellness. I understood why detractors were suspect, I was myself. I wanted to think it might be a wake up call for him. There’s nothing like the prospect of facing your mortality that might move your needle about things.
The electoral October Surprise had arrived. Not quite what we expected. A fair guess was easily posed; our commander-in-chief was freaking the fuck out. It might’ve been a good time to use that relativity stick, if he still owned one, or if he ever had one at all. When you’re receiving the best medical care on the planet, you might want to thank your lucky fifty stars and think of the many thousands who died alone in understaffed ICUs across the country as they gasped for breath in their last moments. Empathy is always easier to fire up when it gets personal.
It appeared he likely contracted the bug the prior weekend before the debate at his White House celebration of Judge Barrett’s SCOTUS nomination. A number of his associates who attended the super spreader event, most of whom disregarded mask and social distancing protocols, tested positive for Covid as well, and eleven positive cases among media reps and debate organizers were tracked back to the Cleveland presidential debate. Moderator Chris Wallace confirmed That Guy’s contingent showed up late to the event and skipped the required mandatory Covid test before settling into the venue. He might’ve infected unknown quantities of folks before he started feeling ill. It was unknown if he knew he was sick and chose to attend public events regardless of the risk to others.
That, precisely, is how the pandemic continued to rage in America. Throwing caution to the wind, presuming everyone was gonna get it whether they quarantined or not. Not that many of That Guy’s elite sycophants were going to feel the most harrowing effects of Covid-19. They were mostly all white people of privilege in positions of power. They were going to get prioritized care. Yet disagreeing with the experts had its risks. Regardless of the resources available to them, they still were forced to face their potential omega points, whether they saw that possibility or not, and only dumb luck determined their respective outcomes.
His medical team at Walter Reed upheld his administration’s preference of downplaying. They spit balled across media walls, refusing to classify the severity of his condition. First it was reported he was doing fine with only mild symptoms, then White House Chief of Staff Mark Meadows issued a briefing where he claimed That Guy’s vital signs were “very concerning and the next 48 hours will be critical in terms of his care.” Dr. Sean Conley, Walter Reed spokesperson and assigned senior physician to That Guy, dialed back Meadows’ claim. When asked by reporters why Conley had initially omitted the necessity of That Guy requiring supplemental oxygen, he explained he was trying to “reflect the upbeat attitude” of the team and the president. Marching orders were issued in terms of public relations, no big puzzle there.
What was odd, was the reported array of treatments issued. First it was said he’d been issued the experimental, non-FDA-approved, Regeneron monoclonal antibody cocktail, which, for the record, uses aborted fetal tissue in its development. Apparently, abortions were okay for conservatives when their own life and death were on the line. Funny how that works. Then he was given a five-day regimen of the antiviral drug Remdesivir, usually not prescribed for patients with mild cases.
One press conference revealed they started him on the steroid dexamethasone, which the WHO generally advocated only for people who were critically ill with Covid-19, as it tends to block immune functions and is most often used for patients with severe lung inflammation.
So, despite reports that his condition was favorable, he took the three strongest meds at the time used to combat the virus. Of course, the leader of the free world was going to be aggressively treated with every available resource. Reading between the lines, it was fairly probable he had a bad case, he was in the high risk zone with his age and his weight, and all his people were instructed to downplay its severity.
CNN’s Jake Tapper summed it up, in a Sunday state of the union chat. Jake was pissed, and who could blame him, we were all ticked off about the colossal bungling at the highest seat in the land. “Sick and in isolation, Mr. President, you have become a symbol of your own failures…failures of recklessness, ignorance, arrogance, the same failures you have been inflicting on the rest of us…get well, and for the rest of us who don’t get to go to Walter Reed, get well and get it together.”
And the circus continued. Even in the possible throes of the potential end of his days, That Guy managed to promote himself. He took a photo op joyride outside Walter Reed Medical Center in a hermetically sealed SUV, wearing his Presidential mask, with two Secret Service agents up front, waving to his largely unmasked supporters who gathered outside the hospital. Experts, including attending physicians in Walter Reed Medical Center itself, immediately condemned the exposure of the agents assigned to that wildly unnecessary detail, how though they were wearing face shields and masks, they were potentially infected due to their proximity to the infected executive. His supporters defending the action, claiming the importance of the presidency showing strength supersedes the safety and well-being of two Secret Service agents…and presumably their families.
He released a video that same day he went for a drive, which included this scintillating tidbit: “It’s been a very interesting journey. I’ve learned a lot about COVID. I learned it by really going to school…this is the real school, this isn’t the ‘let’s read the book’ school, and I get it and I understand it, and it’s a very interesting thing and I’m going to be letting you know about it.”
If he truly ‘got it,’, and ‘understood it,’ he wouldn’t have taken a joyride and exposed his Secret Service agents to a deadly disease. He’d have worn a mask those prior seven months to set an example for his constituencies. He wouldn’t have downplayed the severity of the novel coronavirus to the American public just so he could avoid potential reelection issues. He wouldn’t have hosted rallies or events holding audiences in tight crowded spaces with no social distancing. He wouldn’t have painted it as a hoax.
He definitely didn’t ‘get it.’
A mere three days later, a tweet announced his departure: “I will be leaving the great Walter Reed Medical Center today at 6:30 P.M. Feeling really good! Don’t be afraid of Covid. Don’t let it dominate your life. We have developed, under my administration, some really great drugs and knowledge. I feel better than I did 20 years ago!”
It was a hasty return after being treated with three aggressive Covid-19 treatments. He pushed to head back to the White House because he believed hospitalization was making him look weak. Normally, no physician in their right mind ought to have discharged a patient who’d been issued dexamethasone the day before leaving.
According to leaked rumors from aides, That Guy considered staging a Clark Kent moment upon his discharge from Walter Reed in exiting the building to the waiting press, where he’d have pretended to appear frail and weak on his emergence, then he’d have ripped open a button-down shirt to reveal a tee shirt with the Superman logo underneath, much like the famous Christopher Reeve scene in the first Superman movie.
Serio. You can’t make this shit up.
Evidently, his advisors talked him out it.
Perhaps even they thought that was taking theatrics too far.
Or maybe they didn’t want to infringe a copyright issue.
And so, the infectious rooster came home to roost, completely dismissing the fact he was still a few days away from a potential cytokine storm, wherein immune responses often grew so overwhelming in the body they frequently shorted out its entire system. It happened to tens of thousands of people who succumbed to the virus. He returned to the White House, walked up to the South Portico balcony and removed his mask for another photo op, visibly wheezing for breath after a hike up one flight of stairs, then went inside without apparent regard to his staffers’ safety in his still highly contagious state. Kicker? He came back out to re-shoot the moment of glory.
Traditionally, most of our American presidents tend to avoid appearances from White House balconies, generally not wanting to invoke clichéd strongman pomp and circumstance, like Hitler or Mussolini. But not That Guy. The disregard for his own people, on display for the world to see in real time…what could Americans do other than bow our heads in shame? While he was out on that balcony, maybe he ought to have addressed the families of those 215,000 dead Americans, to assure them not to be afraid of Covid.
*Compiled from October 2, 2020