Stay In Or Go Out?
By Ashley Arvind
We reached SFO airport on June 1, and to my relief, it was mostly empty. Six months have passed since I stepped onto a plane, and I travel often. Even the less busy days at airports looked nothing like what I saw at Terminal 3 on our travel day. Currently, only essential travel is still advised by the CDC.
The reopening of America will test your mettle and your comfort zone. The term “you live in a bubble”, or “don’t burst my bubble,” has become literal in the pandemic. Forget “TGIF” or “date night”, are you staying in, or, going out this summer?
The Beach Boys’ songs keep playing in my head, but I haven’t set foot on the beach yet. I’ve never been so protective of my bubble, which includes my household, and my personal space, and I’m already a germaphobe. Social distancing was ingrained in me from March 16, thanks to Governor Newsom, and likely a good segment of the American population by now, depending where you live and what your governor mandated. Maybe not, if you went to any pool-parties-gone-wild lately in Missouri. Summer’s for blowing bubbles, not popping them, folks.
Getting out of my bubble wasn’t easy psychologically after sheltering in place for months. My home has become my fortress. I had a couple sleepless nights leading up to our essential travel. Yet, there was a certain freedom, if not a carefreeness, I felt once out of the house and on my way somewhere, anywhere. We chose an airline that we knew would be blocking seats, especially after that viral photo of a packed United flight was posted by an American doctor in May coming from New York into this very airport. Documenting what we see couldn’t be more important as I write this.
From way up in the sky, it seemed like life’s troubles were far away on the ground below us. Like most Americans, I am still taking in the events from two weeks ago and the aftermath. Those issues demand attention, both of individual and national reflection.
While other Americans flocked to the beaches, perhaps even Disney World, most people I know have remained at home. Some friends are canceling summer vacations. There have been no secret meetings at my house to break social distancing rules. No hiring top chefs to serve fancy food and wine in the backyard with friends like those wealthy New Yorkers I read about during the height of the pandemic. Maybe they have nine lives. Last month, a friend asked me to have a picnic with her in the park, but I wasn’t ready. Weekend travel to local beach towns in the Bay Area was definitely on our minds in recent weeks, but ultimately seemed better on paper than actually going out. Because everyone else and their momma will be there, too.
The roads are noticeably more busy these days. Signs that people are getting out of their bubbles again, and not just for fresh air, but to shopping in malls and dining at restaurants. But there’s something else people should be getting back to, and it’s self-care. During my trip, I found new lines forming for these services and I made sure to get to the front of the line. But first, I’ll relate my experience of flying.
Going through airport security was a breeze and there were no lines. The few travelers I saw wore masks and our gate was not crowded. Only one eatery serving packaged food was open by our gate. My family and I brought our own food since customer service told me on the phone that a hot meal would not be served. However, we were served bottled water and offered snacks by our friendly flight attendant, Matt. My husband was informed that our flight was thirty-five percent full at the gate by an airline employee. That was comforting.
As I sat at the gate, I remembered the 1995 TV mini-series, “The Langoliers” by Stephen King, the story about a small group of people stuck at an empty airport with their physical surroundings being eaten by monsters. That didn’t happen. Our plane left on time. There was no big line on the runway, like there usually is at the busiest airports. Customer service had informed me that a hot meal would not be served because of Coronavirus, so we packed our own food. However, we were served bottled water and snacks by our flight attendant in first class, Matt. Everyone in the rows around us had their masks on and the flight attendants reminded people about keeping them on. We only took them off to eat.
When we landed in Chicago, O’Hare International Airport at Terminal 2, it was busier than I expected. Not everyone wore masks. People are a bit lax now in the rules and some don’t care. My apprehension went up a notch. Wearing masks and social distancing is still important to prevent transmission. There are anti-maskers out there too. They’re the types who assault security guards in Target and spit on sales clerks. Don’t be a COVID-jerk. A prearranged car was waiting for us and we again kept our masks on for the whole ride. Our driver also wore a mask. It felt nice to be back in my hometown as we made our way to the suburbs. I took in the scenery. Everything was green from the rains of recent weeks.
California, along with other states that actually imposed lockdowns, are now loosening their restrictions as Coronavirus cases across the country have plateaued, or else met whatever benchmarks other state officials set for reopening, respectively. Illinois started reopening nonessential businesses just in time for our short trip, and I took advantage of it.
After a long, dark winter (metaphorically speaking, because I live in California), I got a haircut and tamed my locks. Simple pleasures I took for granted. I made an appointment at my usual North Shore salon in Highland Park and was booked on the second day of its reopening. I texted the salon early because I knew the appointments would fill up fast. Like many women, I have a salon ritual. That everyone’s got interesting hair right now isn’t just cosmetic. Getting a haircut is also a part of personal hygiene.
For the various services coming back online, be prepared, because the “new normal” comes with new rules. There was a COVID form that I had to fill out online at the salon’s website prior to the appointment with various questions about my health. For example, going to the grocery store or pharmacy doesn’t require you to sign a COVID form.Then, when I arrived, I had to call the salon and let them know I was outside. You can’t just walk in off the street because the door is locked. Promptly an employee opened the door for me. Only a few people are allowed inside the business at a time. Next, the receptionist checked my temperature with a gadget that she pointed at my forehead. My temperature was deemed acceptable. It’s all part of the new rules for COVID-19 and I’m glad they’re in place.
It was totally weird being inside a place with walls and strangers again. This wasn’t my bubble. This wasn’t my grocery store or pharmacy I was in. Another woman had come in minutes before me and stood by the opposite wall when I entered. We glanced at each other and mutually kept our distance. I stayed where I looked at the product on the shelves, but didn’t touch. The reopening of nonessential businesses like salons, indoor shopping malls, and restaurants with outdoor seating, may seem trivial, but doing these things also means getting back to bits of daily life that we’ve all lost during the pandemic.
In the early days of the lockdown, it took me a while to get used to going to the grocery store and shopping with other people. It was a tense experience. Go in, get the stuff, and leave was the mentality. My husband and I wouldn’t go inside if the Safeway parking lot was too crowded. Cases were still high and Santa Clara’s peak hadn’t come.
In part, I was looking for some semblance of normalcy from our past lives in doing these things, but it was far from routine. This was evident once the whole experience of visiting a nonessential business began.
The salon was quiet, and they’re not quiet places–there’s gossip and chatter mixed in with the sound of water at the shampoo bowls and the blast of hair dryers going. It sounded more like a library than a salon. Soon my stylist Kelsey greeted me cheerfully and I was led to her station. A few empty chairs were thankfully between me and another stylist tending to her client. My stylist seemed happy to be back at work. She said there would be no shampoo, only a leave-in conditioner for my trim, but no matter. There was no blow drying of my hair either, she explained, but I’m not complaining. The banter was dialed down on my part because Coronavirus can be spread by talking. My stylist wore a mask and so did I. Overall, I was confident my salon had taken all the necessary precautions. And I still got a great haircut.
Daycare services are resuming, and as people are going back to work in some industries, need childcare. A friend of mine in Chicago needs a nanny right now. Leisure activities are becoming available as indoor malls have reopened in places. The Westfield Galleria in Roseville, California partially reopened on May 22 with new guidelines. I’ve been to that mall and it’s a nice one, but shopping indoors, one of my pastimes, is oddly not what I’m missing right now. I didn’t go to any restaurants with outdoor seating in Chicago which had opened. Those things, for me, fit in the category that would be more stressful than enjoyable. For other people, filing into spaces outside their homes is what they are seeking for their mental health.
Other less fun, but-necessary things were on my to-do list, so I called my dentist in Glenview. The office had just reopened when the state’s restrictions were lifted. Dental offices were among the first places to be closed by state mandates due to the nature of the work being high-risk for spreading COVID-19. I was about to get a checkup in winter when the pandemic struck.
Hitting pause so suddenly to fight the pandemic affected the economy, job market and industry. Whatever the losses in dollars, that is not the only cost that must be measured. Taking care of ourselves is as important as ever, and when routine services like doctor’s visits or non-emergency treatments become unavailable to the people, that poses its own risks. How long can we postpone maintaining our own health? Routine checkups at the doctor’s office provide us with preventative healthcare after all.
Once again, I called when I arrived and waited for the receptionist let me in. I was a little early, and the receptionist gave me the option of waiting inside or outside, whatever I was comfortable with. I chose inside. It was a sunny, humid day. First, I was told to sanitize my hands and fill out their COVID forms. Then I was shown to a sofa seat where “X” marked the spot on the floor in blue tape. There was no treasure.
Across from me was an elderly woman seated in the squashy pink sofa and she too wore a mask. I felt guilty being near a senior citizen I didn’t know. There was a glass door by my seat that other patients were told to exit from, so when a few people passed me as they finished their appointment, I felt a little vulnerable, or exposed. I was also a few feet from the receptionist’s desk. Was I being paranoid? It was in no way crowded, but this was yet another place with walls that wasn’t my home. Was going to these new places the equivalent of bursting my bubble? Each place was a new shared bubble I had to accept.
Shortly the hygienist called me and I followed her to the bay. First, I had to rinse with some special anti-viral peroxide for twenty to thirty seconds, and I was timed. Then I got into the chair, had X-rays taken and got my cleaning done. The hygienist had full PPE on, including mask and a hair net. I was handed glasses to wear that had been cleaned. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been to the dentist in a while because of the lockdown and my checkup was long overdue. My dentist saw I had a few cavities and she squeezed me in for later that day, as I was returning to California soon. Again, I was lucky because their office is getting busy. At seven pm, I returned and the receptionist saw me in the car and quickly opened the door. My dentist came out and was almost unrecognizable: she had a face shield on, a hair net and two layers of PPE. I was made to feel comfortable though. There was a new instrument used that seemed to be similar to the suction they give you and tell you to close your mouth on. It reminded me of a giant straw put in the boba drinks. I didn’t bother to ask my dentist about it. I had three shots of Novocain and was good to go.
Not all healthcare services have reopened, though. My Mom, who’s a senior, only had the option of doing her doctor’s visit via video phone call in the North Shore Healthcare system.
Elective surgeries have resumed in some locales after being suspended for months. A Chicago news station reported that people with heart conditions were getting called by their doctors because these were people who couldn’t wait much longer for their surgeries. Other reports found some people were afraid to call 911 when they thought they were having a heart attack or stroke, because they were more afraid to go into a hospital and contract Coronavirus. Some non-COVID deaths were attributed to these situations in recent months. People facing a medical emergency are urged to call an ambulance and not delay.
More phases of states reopening are underway. Take a deep breath and take care of yourself. We’ll have to wait to see how else the post-COVID world looks, but likely a mask will still be required to have some fun.