Thankful this meat suit has bounced back so strong and for the wonders of modern medicine. Super powers loading…
Perhaps it’s a cathartic self-indulgence, but amongst this highlights reel I feel a niggling personal obligation to share the story of my run-in with Covid-19.
What started with a mild head cold evolved into headaches, high fevers and decreasing oximeter readings. Home isolation is a mental beast where you realise you are your own under-qualified carer.
On 30th June, we realised I was deteriorating, tight chested, covered in a weird rash and most alarmingly short of breath with SAT levels in the low 80s. I needed to go to hospital. On THE day the city announced they were reaching capacity. I waved goodbye to my wife and 2 boys from the back of an ambulance. A memory I’d like us all to erase.
I was fortunately assigned a bed at the Christian Barnard Memorial hospital. There I was told I had COVID pneumonia. The delta variant the likely cause. “You’re young, you’re strong, you’re a bit of an anomaly Mark”.
I was prodded and jabbed, x-rayed, had vile after vile of blood taken, given plenty of intravenous antibiotics, steroids and vitamin cocktails. And repeatedly injected with blood thinners into my stomach region…
Covid wards are humbling places. You meet people of all backgrounds at their most absolute vulnerable – gasping for air. You see and hear things that are tricky to forget. You stumble to the toilet attached to a tank of oxygen. You wake every few hours to have your SAT levels checked and to turn over again to relieve pressure on your lungs. You anxiously wait to see what the virus has in store for you next.
But… you also get to witness the (somewhat mythical) heroic doctors, nurses, physios and hospital staff selflessly, fearlessly, tirelessly fighting this indiscriminate virus. Providing care and calm to an overwhelming amount of patients.
6 long days after being admitted I was told I’d made it through the danger zone and should continue my recovery at home. Hospitals breed superbugs that make for evil secondary infections.
I was nervous to leave my good acquaintance – the nasal cannulas. I was sad to say goodbye to my covid comrades. But I was very ready to get back to my family. Who’d of course had their own torrid experience. My wife caring for our 2 boys, operating off much uncertainty and plenty of quarantine anxiety. Miraculously both her and the boys seem to have avoided it.
I exited the hospital via the same emergency doors I’d arrived through. Sitting in a wheelchair on the side of the road, 6kgs lighter, breathing in the cold, beautiful winter air. Kind of a surreal moment.
I’ve now been home for 10 days and am adjusting to being a rather frail 39 year old. My lungs are re-building, but inflamed. Recovery is cautiously slow and not short of horror stories people feel they should share with you. I’ll have another x-ray in August to discover the extent of my battle scars and hear when I can get back to a more normal, active routine.
For now I’m enjoying my gentle walks, treasuring my family, and so thankful that I’m an anomaly that can tell my own tale and more purposely shape it’s future.
Stay safe. Get vaccinated.
I love telling the story of Yebo Fresh to people. Which is why it’s even more special to see big brands also now telling the story.
A company born out of a garage, with a desire to impact and serve the underserved. Fuelled by the pandemic I can’t wait to see how the Yebo Fresh South African footprint grows and matures.
I read this essay a couple weeks ago and it really resonated with my relationship with blogging. It’s also a beautifully constructed, engaging page design worth checking out.
“The web today is built for apps—and I think we need to take it back.“Robin Rendle
Robin Rendle succinctly describes the death of blogs, the rise of newsletters, and the forgotten powers of ancient, dusty technologies like RSS readers.
Who still follows RSS feeds? Scrap that. Who still comments on blogs?
5 years ago today, at around this very time, we sat eating Reuben sandwiches for breakfast in a fancy restaurant in Nolita, New York. Hashing out a new commercial agreement with fancy execs of one of the world’s largest online payment systems.
A few hours later, a neighbourhood across, we were in Matt’s apartment with the Automattic team. Laptops on laps, clicking the “publish” button on the news that WooCommerce was being acquired by Automattic.
It was a surreal, life-altering day that will forever be laser-etched in my memory bank.
5 years later I’m in a very different season of life, working with very different businesses. But I still proudly fly the Woo flag – high fiving the small wins and celebrating the big milestones.
Poetically, today WooCommerce is launching – WooCommerce Payments. Built upon a very mature partnership with another leading payments company – Stripe. Deeply integrated for all kinds of benefit to store owners.
A partnership so impressive that “you’ll end up paying the same fees when you use WooCommerce Payments or a custom Stripe integration.”
Moral of the story: Significance takes time to negotiate and is built on many short term successes.
How far WooCommerce has come. Well done to the Automattic team! Onwards and upwards 🚀
Today calls for a tiny celebration. It marks the official end of South Africa’s hard lockdown… We’ve now entered into a “Stage 4” lockdown, which is much the same, except we are now awarded morning exercise hours…
I helped Sentian put together a little light-hearted video showcasing some CCTV family keepsakes of the past 5 weeks, that their customers had sent in. It’s been a memorable chapter for all of us.
These are tough times, much tougher for some than others. South Africa always dishing out a fair share of perspective. Us with CCTV have the privilege of a house that requires protecting.
Jealous of Edward (named by my boys). Lockdown doesn’t apply to spotted eagle owls. Grateful for his extended visit (most of yesterday).
I hope he returns.
Yebo Fresh always felt like it was going to play a significant, socially impactful role providing for the underserved township markets of South Africa.
Last year, no one could have predicted the coronavirus, or South Africa’s crippling lockdown, but Yebo Fresh’s vision has been magnified and its scale fast-tracked to help get grocery deliveries to desperate families.
Super proud of the work this team are doing. I visited them last week at the warehouse to try document a moment in their journey. See the photos on the Yebo Fresh blog.