Steppin’ Out
Plagues, epidemics, and pandemics are not new phenomena. Evidence dating back to prehistoric times reveals infectious diseases that have ravaged humanity. They are harrowing reminders of the fragility of life.
The Spanish Flu, originated in Kansas, not Spain, and lasted a couple of years in the US. One lesson we should have learned by now is that when we blame pandemics on specific countries, we risk uncovering bias, prejudice, and judgment. Perhaps by identifying the disease and the year, COVID-19, we will be able to use our energy to search for treatments and cures, rather than blaming and exploiting specific cultures. The recent amplification of hate and racial tensions is abhorrent.
Since the fourteenth century there have been eighteen known infectious diseases linked to pain, suffering, and hundreds of millions of deaths. The “1918 flu” led to an eleven-year, world-wide, pandemic that arrived as inexplicably as it disappeared. History is replete with illnesses, and fortunately, treatments, vaccines, and sometimes, cures.
While world health was under attack and we were embattled in WWI, along came encephalitis lethargica- sleeping or sleepy sickness- that led to symptoms of parkinsonism and catatonia. In his 1973 memoir, Awakenings, Dr. Oliver Sacks shared his encounters with patients who survived the illness, but remained in vegetative states. Using the promising drug, L-Dopa, some of the patients were temporarily awakened. Gone were their years of unawareness, but the results were temporary and ultimately tragic. Patients in the small New York City Hospital were returned to their sleep states.
For many of us, Spring 2021 has brought a sense of awakening. Days are longer and warmer. All of our senses have been awakened to the sights and scents of Magnolia and Cherry blossoms, and the sounds of early morning birds. After thirteen months in hibernation, we find ourselves in a world that is slowly reopening- an awakening of sorts. But we feel out of sync with nature and the hope of life beyond a pandemic heightens internal conflict.
Some of us have become accustomed to the security of our homes. Food has been delivered, purchases made online appear at our doorsteps, living in sweatpants is comfortable, and socializing, other than on Zoom, has not been an option. Daily routines are less complicated; there are fewer arrangements to make, change, or break. Despite leading solitary lives, isolated from friends and family, we have found comfort in going solo.
But many of us, whether or not we suffered with COVID-19, are dealing with the effects of an emotional haze. Long haulers suffer COVID brain syndrome. Others who have not been diagnosed complain of compromised focus and attention, challenges with time and space, and increased anxiety, stress, and negative emotions.
The thought of stepping out of our limited world is worrisome and confusing. It is as if we are being asked to respond to simultaneously blinking green and yellow traffic lights. So rather than proceeding, we look for clues, and remain frozen in place.
As the world begins to open, OPEN for BUSINESS signage for retail establishments, reconnecting with friends, celebrations, or outdoor dining, all come with uncertainty and anxiety. Cracking doors open to the outside world is painful and disorienting, like driving into a blinding sunrise or sunset, or returning home from the ophthalmologist with dilated pupils. Even those of us who are fully vaccinated, plus two weeks, and have our permission slips/vaccine passports, remain hesitant.
Bending the boundaries of our comfort zones is not easy; we have become comfortable in our own homes, skins, or Snuggies. So, when we think of venturing out, we are flooded with negative thoughts and are overcome with fears- fears and worries that did not exist before the pandemic. We bristle when a trusted friend suggests meeting for coffee or dinner at an outside restaurant, or invites us inside his home. Our minds are flooded with questions, not answers, about ventilation, other invitees, the following of COVID protocols, and vaccinations. Do we dare ask about masks?
If we are on the fence, a lump in our throat, the flip of our stomach, or our negative inner voice are all warning signals. So, we wrestle with ourselves about our readiness and the steps we will take to conquer this brave new world. It will take some cognitive restructuring before we achieve full exposure or immersion. We are so out of practice in the social realm.
Once outside, we worry about the message our mask is communicating. Will it represent our own insecurity or over-sensitivity? Or, will it be appreciated as a commitment to protect others until the end is in sight? It will take effort to accept virtual handshakes, hugs, and elbow bumps as new greetings. And, at some point, we will not feel the necessity to tell each store owner or waiter that this is our first venture out.
It may be a while before we comfortably purchase tickets to outdoor concerts, theater, or baseball games. But each step we take further outside our homes brings us closer to more fully reentering society.
With effort and courage, we will restore, modify, or return to a more complete, healthier life, free of carbohydrates and alcohol. We will say goodbye to friends we made through thousands of episodes on television, and reach out to friends and relatives who provide the real connective tissue and meaning in our lives.
The pandemic has stolen the lives of relatives, friends, and strangers. So, there are now fewer of us to commit to dealing with society’s problems. We will have to work even harder to address issues that have been sidelined over these past fourteen months. Working together, rather than focusing on our own personal disappointments, may help to fully restore the personal joy and meaning we experienced in our pre-pandemic lives.
In time, our memories of anger, isolation, inconvenience, and lost opportunities will fade. Those first few hugs and kisses will remind us not of what we missed, but what is yet to come!
