By Laurie Baron
SAN DIEGO — For the first time since Covid descended upon us, I took a long flight to outside the United States. My lingering paranoia about contracting Covid prompted me to wear a mask, even though most of the passengers seemed oblivious to the continuing rise of Covid cases and brazenly inhaled and exhaled without something blocking what went into or out of their mouths and noses. When a man seated behind me sneezed, I asked a flight attendant to have a sky marshal imprison him in the belly of the airliner along with the baggage for the duration of the flight. Next there was the eating and drinking dilemma. Should I render myself vulnerable to disease by taking my mask off and consuming food and liquids? Hunger and thirst eventually prevailed over my health concerns.
Once I reached Toronto, I stayed with my cousin and her husband. What I didn’t know was that their grown children and grandchildren would be coming to brunch the next day. Although their grandchildren were engaging and well-behaved, I could not fail to notice that one of them had a runny nose and violated my 6-foot social distance perimeter. Immediately, I had premonitions of being hooked up to a ventilator in a hospital intensive care unit. My only solace was that the hospital probably possessed enough ventilators to compensate for shortages during the height of the pandemic.
On the way home, I noticed my throat was scratchy; my nose was dripping; and I was violently sneezing. I feared US Customs would detect my illness and quarantine me just like Tom Hanks in The Terminal. Would I have to declare that I was bringing a case of Covid into the country? Could I lie to Customs to permit me to enter the country by telling them Anthony Fauci was my personal care physician? My vaccinations were up to date, but could I be among that minority who still get severe cases of Covid. Indeed, if I developed full blown Covid and started exhibiting signs of being autistic, I would consider voting for Robert F. Kennedy Jr.
After returning to my house, my symptoms worsened. I took a Covid test. Fortunately, I tested negative. I realized that the viruses that cause the common cold are still among us. I had thought they had quit their job of making people sick since they were embarrassed by how virulent their Covid relatives were. Or perhaps they had been intimidated by how many people wore masks, sprayed Lysol, and even drank bleach to ward off the Corona virus. Whatever the reason for their absence in my life the past three years, I felt comforted knowing that I did not have a potentially fatal disease. On the other hand, is it possible I have RSV?
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Baron is professor emeritus at San Diego State University. He may be contacted via Lawrence.baron@sdjewishworld.com