Why I Broke My Quarantine
But only a little…and only because I desperately needed to
I had a dream Thursday night that deeply shook me. My entire family had decided to get together at a local park just behind a huge bookstore. We didn’t touch or get too close, but it was so healing for us all to be together, and we watched the kids running back and forth for a while.
At one point, my sister and sister-in-law embraced, and I became furious.
“Wait! Why are you two hugging?! We said there was a rule — no contact! You said I couldn’t touch anyone or hug any of the kids because you were afraid of spreading germs!”
My sister shrugged and said, “Well, we’re both mothers. We have the same factors at play in our lives, so our risk is lower than if we hugged you.”
I couldn’t speak for a moment. I was so shocked and hurt by such a statement. It seemed nonsensical to me, considering that (in real life and in the dream), both of their husbands had some contact with the public due to their jobs, whereas I have been quarantined since March 10th, and therefore, I was far less of a risk.
I began yelling very loudly about how angry I was. Finally, I grabbed my purse and stormed into the bookstore to take a shortcut to the parking lot beyond.
But as I climbed a few sets of stairs, I realized I was lost. I couldn’t remember which doors led to the parking lot. I couldn’t even figure out what floor of the building I was on.
I began storming down the stairs, deciding to go back outside and through the park so I could find my way, but I was upset that I’d have to see my family again, after I’d stormed out so dramatically.
On my way down, I ran into my parents and my youngest brother, Jack. Strangely, in the dream, my parents were still together, and happy, unlike in reality where they have been bitterly (and I mean bitterly) divorced for almost ten years.
I didn’t want to talk or listen to any of their advice about not getting so upset in such a difficult time. I was surprised when, instead, my dad offered to hug me.
No one said another word, and suddenly, I threw myself into my dad’s arms, and began uncontrollably sobbing, my whole body shaking. But I didn’t make a sound.
My dad began crying, as well, and squeezed me so tightly. Then my mom and Jack put their arms around me.
As I cried in the dream, I began to awaken. My body was shaking just the way it was in the dream, and I heard myself making sobbing sounds.
No! I thought. I’m waking up! No!
But I couldn’t fight it. I emerged from the dream (and my dream hug) and found myself lying on my back, crying, with my arms tightly wrapped around myself.
As I emerged from my sleep haze, I realized my sister-in-law, Vivien, was going to head over soon to pick up my bicycle pump. She couldn’t find hers and needed to pump up the tires on her stroller so she could take her kids for a walk.
She arrived later and I opened the door to talk with her and said, “Should we hug? What are we supposed to do?”
She knew that I had been completely isolated for three and a half weeks except for a few visits to the grocery store.
I knew she had also stayed at home with her two kids, only venturing to the store a couple times. My brother, her husband, has been somewhat exposed to the public. He is the executive director of an assisted living facility, and as such, is not able to work from home. But it’s probably one of the safest situations an employee can be in right now. They have been on full lockdown since late February, no visitors or even delivery people allowed inside the building. Masks, smocks, and gloves are required during any contact or proximity with residents or fellow employees. And all employees are screened daily to monitor for symptoms and make sure no one brings the virus into the building.
Vivien and I figured it was probably at least as safe for us to hug as it was to go to the grocery store. Or maybe we were rationalizing our deep need to have some human contact or some semblance of normalcy.
So we hugged. And it was so lovely, I almost cried. Then I went to the car and she told me it was okay to hug the kids. Mabel was in her seat on the other side of the car, but four-year-old Felix was waiting when I opened the door with a triumphant smile, yelling out, “Auntie Y!!!”
I forgot that he’s not a big fan of hugs and threw my arms around him, only remembering his “bubble boundaries” when he awkwardly patted the top of my head.
Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind — he’s used to Auntie’s overzealous hugging.
From behind me, Vivien said, “Is it crazy to ask you to come over this weekend? I’m gonna go nuts if I spend one more day without seeing someone other than Levi and the kids.”
“Oh my god, seriously?” I squeaked, happily. “Should we?”
We discussed it again, laying out the risks, but decided at that point, it couldn’t hurt. We’d already hugged, so why not?
When she drove away, I felt both elated and desolate. There was something to look forward to. But it broke my heart that we had had to debate whether or not we should visit, get too close, hug…
Everything felt so wrong. So upside-down. I suddenly remembered my dream and started crying again.
There was almost no one on the roads that Sunday morning. It’s eerie to see the town so empty.
Felix was waiting by the door, screaming, “Where have you been, Auntie?” as he so often does. He’d been up since 4:30 that morning and was so excited to have a visitor at the house.
When I walked in the door and hugged Vivien, she said, “I feel like we’re breaking the law or something.”
We both laughed nervously.
The morning was lovely with lots of catching up, playing with Felix, and eating tofu and potatoes with vegan gravy.
We decided to go on a walk before I left and took a little trail down by the irrigation ditch where I used to walk my dog — a time that seems so, so far away now.
We came upon a woman out for her daily stroll and paused near the edge of the trail to let her pass. She yelled out, “I’m gonna go this way, instead!” and then took a fork in the trail, bypassing us entirely.
Vivien said, “This whole thing is so surreal. It’s just like the movies. The whole world just stops and you see people as risks instead of as fellow human beings. It’s horrible.”
We passed two more people who did not go out of their way to avoid us, yet who didn’t answer us when we greeted them. At the end of the trail, we came upon an older couple, and they climbed off the trail and ventured into a wooded area to keep from getting too close to us.
Later, when I put my coat on and gathered my things, I asked Levi and Vivien, “What do we do now? This could go on for months. How do we figure out what risks to take in this?”
They didn’t have an answer, of course. But we decided to keep meeting each week, so long as we were all being careful and staying otherwise isolated. Maybe an answer would become apparent in the weeks to come…
“Thank you,” Vivien said to me when she hugged me goodbye. “This visit will at least help me get through two more days of isolation. And then I’ll just have to go back to hanging on by my fingernails until you come back.”
Like Vivien, I thought the visit would nourish me for at least a few days. I was surprised to find myself feeling depressed the very next day. The visit had been wonderful, yes, but also made it even more glaringly noticeable how upside-down the world has become.
I wanted to call my mom and arrange to come visit her the next weekend. I wanted to spend my usual Thursday afternoon at my sister’s house, watching Alex toddle around. I wanted to arrange a hike with Sunny and go out for pizza with Frank.
But none of this was possible.
Frank and Sunny’s exposure level is moderate, making a visit with them riskier than a visit with my brother’s family. My dad’s girlfriend’s level of exposure also creates an increased risk. My sister and my mother are not willing to have visitors at this time due to issues around medical vulnerability, though my mother would consider a visitor if I completely and totally sequestered myself, having absolutely no contact with other people or the outside world for a full 14 days.
Every single decision I make about finding ways to maintain a sense of connection with others essentially cuts off all other options. If I see Sunny, Frank, or my dad, I’d have to consider if I want to put myself at risk and would most certainly have to self-quarantine after a visit with them.
Seeing my brother’s family is a nothing-but-net basket. Guaranteed company once a week — or more, if I wanted. But…visits with anyone else are out unless I do another two-week quarantine.
What should I do, as predictions about future social distancing become less and less clear, indicating that this could continue for quite a long time?
I could return to a full quarantine so I’d be ready to visit with anyone who was willing at a moment’s notice and hope that I don’t slowly slide into madness while I wait for an invitation.
Or I could, perhaps, plan visits with people every two weeks, even though no one other than my mother would be able to complete their own quarantine due to work obligations. In other words, they wouldn’t necessarily be at increased risk by seeing me, but I would be, and I’d have to go through a full two weeks alone (again) just to “earn” that privilege of seeing someone who is already semi-exposed.
Or I could just keep seeing my brother and his family once a week and accept that I might not be able to see my father, my best friends, my mother, or little Alex for a very long time…
I honestly don’t know what to do. But I’m shocked to find how much I value a hug. How much I’m suddenly willing to risk just to make sure I can give someone I love a squeeze.
Navigating these difficult times:
