Covid Chronicles. Chapter 71: What Happens When the Days Become Shorter?

Read chapter 70 here

Tuesday, September 1, 2020 

Which brings me to a related topic that has been increasingly creeping into recent conversations. 

But first, let me set the stage. 

In California, severe fires have forced many residents to remain indoors, as the air quality is so unhealthy it makes people sick to breath it for even a short period of time. During the worst of a record-setting heat wave, rolling blackouts precluded the use of air-conditioning. And with so much smoke hanging in the air, opening doors and windows was not an option. Spending time outdoors, which for many people provides the only escape from the boredom of Covid restrictions, became a life-threatening activity. 

What happens when the days become shorter and the weather turns cool? Here in Wisconsin, it’s already getting dark by 7:30, and it’s just the first of September. What happens when the two major family holidays of the year — Thanksgiving and Christmas – approach and we find ourselves experiencing a second wave of the virus in tandem with a severe flu season, as many health experts have warned? Will most people continue to remain vigilant or will they forge ahead with their usual holiday plans involving large gatherings of family and friends. 

For the past few years, JoAnna and I have celebrated Thanksgiving with Paula and her family in Wheaton. (2019 gathering shown on previous page.) This summer, the same group, plus Al & family, gathered for an Andrews’ Crew reunion at our house. We spent most of our time outdoors and wore masks whenever people were inside — preparing a meal or cleaning up, for example. Each family group had its own set of utensils. Except for Julianna – Al and Cyndi were unable to find a place that allows dogs, and they always travel with Malibu – everyone stayed at a hotel. Will Paula required similar protocols this year? 

I can imagine many families proclaiming, we’re going to have a traditional holiday season this year. Covid be damned. 

The danger, of course, is spending time with a large group of people in an enclosed space while thumbing your nose at the virus oftentimes results in an outbreak, the latest example being a wedding in Millinocket, Maine, which is linked to 134 cases.

Christmas is a time when churches hold numerous special celebrations: children’s programs, musical events, additional services. At this special time of the year, many Americans are going to experience a deep yearning to observe cherished family traditions, to return a sense of normalcy into their lives. And I thoroughly understand such feelings. During this worldwide public health crisis, however, we have to balance what we want to do (our selfish desires) and what we need to do (our humanitarian concerns). As Aaron Carroll, a professor of pediatrics at the Indiana University School of Medicine, wrote yesterday in a New York Times op-ed, “When It Comes to Covid, Most of Us Have Risk Exactly Backward”: 

Too many view protective measures as all or nothing: Either we do everything, or we might as well do none. That’s wrong. Instead, we need to see that all our behavior adds up. 

Each decision we make to reduce risk helps. Each time we wear a mask, we’re throwing some safety on the pile. Each time we socialize outside instead of inside, we’re throwing some safety on the pile. Each time we stay six feet away instead of sitting closer together, we’re throwing some safety on the pile. Each time we wash our hands, eat apart and don’t spend time in large gatherings of people, we’re adding to the pile. 

If the pile gets big enough, we as a society can keep this thing in check. 

I’ll paraphrase an example that Carroll uses. 

If Kaila (Allen and Colleen’s 8-year-old daughter, who is starting third grade) is going to take on more risk at school, her parents should find ways to reduce her risk. Large gatherings at Grandma’s house are not a good idea, especially now that she has a brother. (Harrison William Mroz was born on August 18. With schools and colleges reopening – in person, virtually, or a hybrid – the number of cases among young adults and children is increasing rapidly. Winona County, for example, home to a state university, is one of Minnesota’s hot spots as a result of a campus outbreak of nearly 100 cases. Not including the 136 students who are in isolation off campus. 

Reading this account, I had to as myself, What if a pandemic had occurred in 1968? How would I have behaved? I spent those summer nights and weekends almost constantly in the company of friends, but at the same time I eagerly anticipated my departure to college and immersing myself in this new experience. I probably would have been as incautious as many college students are today. 

Or let’s say the pandemic struck during my sophomore year. One of the highlights of Thanksgiving and Christmas 1968 was the opportunity to reconnect with friends and classmates I hadn’t seen since the late summer. I would have been most reluctant to deny myself this experience a year later and willing to put myself at risk on multiple occasions. Ah, the heedlessness of youth. 

Yesterday JoAnna and I joined our friends Liz and Donna for a not-quite-spontaneous cocktail hour. Last week, we planned to bike to their house on Madison’s east side, but Friday’s weather forecast offers a threat of rain and, as it turned out, our Saturday schedules didn’t synch. As an alternative, Liz suggested we drive over some late afternoon for drink. Yesterday’s weather was perfect day such a get-together. 

The pandemic, of course, became a thread throughout our conversation. 

“What are you planning to do this winter?” Liz asked. 

With the assumption that we knew she meant “to get through Covid.” 

“We’re thinking of buying one of those outdoor heaters that restaurants use for our deck,” Donna eagerly chimed in. 

Simultaneously, JoAnna and I pictured the times these devices kept us warm during visits to sidewalk cafes in Paris during our Christmas 2011 visit. Of course, the daytime temperature there was usually in the 40s. Wisconsin’s winters not so mild. A heat lamp would be of little help with a 0˚ wind chill. 

This idea got JoAnna and I thinking about our using the garage, with its screened entrance, as a gathering place. An addition of a space heater, a portable unit that’s easy to store would provide enough heat to ward off a modest chill. 

Liz lamented that her children are being less cautious as the pandemic wears on. For that reason, she doesn’t anticipate attending her only grandchild’s first birthday. It will be too large a gathering for her. She and Donna, who has a number of underlying health conditions – breast cancer survivor, for one -- have been extremely circumspect in their behavior since Covid entered their lives. 

“We haven’t been out to a restaurant since March,” Donna noted. 

They’re not even comfortable with dining al fresco.

Read chapter 72 here