Monday, October 19, 2020
IN THE SHADOW OF COVID
It is a drizzly, gray day as I sit in my office gazing out the window. A maple tree across the street is half exploding with yellow. Next to it stands a dogwood blazing red. Of course, this happens every fall but this year it feels different with the threat of the virus hanging over the scene like a shroud. Since last spring we have been held captive in our homes by an invisible interloper. It stalks our every move, waiting should we become too careless and venture out unprotected. Socializing with friends has been reduced to online correspondence or from safe distances during chance encounters while outside. We take secluded walks before the streets and trails fill with locals and tourists who seem far too cavalier. We have not shopped in a grocery store in seven months but are fortunate to be able to afford to have them delivered.
As an older male with a rare autoimmune disease, I count myself among those with underlying conditions making me more susceptible to death by Covid. Reports of deaths are often accompanied by “they were elderly and had underlying medical conditions”, a statement that seems to minimize the loss. This makes me feel as though I am expendable, like a weak or sick antelope selected for death by a lion. It is as though this culling of the herd is to be expected, even accepted.
What will this long, New England winter hold? Can we possibly be more isolated than we already are? When will we be able to see our son again who lives in a state to and from which travel is not allowed? It is infuriating that reckless individuals in his state are preventing us from visiting him. Who issued the permit for the young to gather at bars and parties as if they are immune, as if they are living on an island? Who informed them that they are so special they do not have to sacrifice one iota for the safety of others, even for their own families?
It is not just the young who are knowingly acting as spreaders, white male adults also are prominent members of the anti-mask crowd. Thanks to our president, wearing masks has become a sign of weakness and political affiliation. Men seem to be hard-wired when it comes to exerting their masculinity and strength, even when it is stupid and dangerous to do so. The motorcycle rally at Sturgis, South Dakota is a prime example. I have too often noticed bare-faced white men walking with their female companions who are almost always wearing masks. This summer I took up golf again after many years away from the game. It seemed like a safe, outdoor activity that would allow social distancing while getting a little exercise. I was right about the distancing but I frequently had to avoid unmasked men. In contrast, the many women golfers were nearly all wearing masks. After a few weeks of carefully avoiding them, I have again stopped golfing.
A minor sacrifice to be sure, but they add up like the slow dripping from a leaky faucet. When will the bucket be filled to overflowing? When will wide swaths of the population grow too weary from lockdowns to continue to obey the rules, and revolt? It appears to already have begun and we are not yet into winter. The race to develop a vaccine must succeed sometime soon or we risk a rebellion that could result in a march toward herd immunity. As one of those who likely would be among the first to fall under such circumstances, I am begging you to wear a mask, maintain social distance, and remain patient. Lives depend on it.
