Lately I have gone on a couple wild tears. The first was polite enough–peppering officials at a local university with questions about how they plan to keep the community safe with in-person classes as local hospitals stay overwhelmed?

In one email I hastily typed out “soar” for sore. As in sore throat/soar like an eagle. I admit it looked “off” to me, but danged if I was gonna slow down for editing!

And again today, when I was questioning a pharmacist about why she would happily fill prescriptions for abortifacients to end lives but not ivermectin to potentially save them.

The chemicals and pharmaceutical names in death-inducing agents like RU-486 are pronounceable if you really focus, but I find it difficult to focus on them, difficult to write or say them.

I spelled them out for her, aware of her disdain. I can live with that, quite easily really, as long as I have done what I can to try

To squeak out some protest, any protest which might make it hard for her or anyone

To kill instead of heal.