From a Distance

How do you respond when someone tells you they have a sore throat or any other despicable and communicable ailment?

That question came up in an article from a blog I was reading, which offered five helpful responses—especially if the person sharing this alarming news is a friend or loved one.

Five Things to Say to Show You Care: 1. Ask how they’re feeling. 2. Check in on their emotional well-being.

3. Offer to bring what they need.

4. Let them know you’re there for them.

5. Give them extra love.

Lovely. Thoughtful. Kind. Also: slightly unrealistic. It did make me reflect on my own reactions to such news, which, I’ll admit, lean less toward calm reassurance and more toward irrational panic.

Before asking how they’re feeling, my very first question would be: Have you seen a doctor? Followed quickly by a shriek or a string of muttered profanities if the answer is no.

If they happened to be nearby, I’d bolt like an Olympic sprinter, leaving a cartoon puff of smoke in my wake.

If they texted or called me, I’d immediately reach for the hand sanitizer—dousing my phone, keyboard, and possibly my entire torso, just in case any contaminated air had managed to travel through my devices. (Don’t judge. Some folks believe the election was stolen— I think the flu might sneak through Bluetooth.)

Next, I’d check in on myself: Do I feel sick? What’s that tickle in my throat?

Where are the cough drops?

Is my thermometer broken?

How much elderberry do I have left?

Then I’d frantically inventory my medicine cabinet to make sure every scientifically approved, CDC-backed, and maybe even grandmaendorsed remedy was within reach. No bleach, though. I do draw a line.

And as for the part about telling someone “I’m here for you,” let’s be honest: I’m not. I’m over here. Far, far over here. My motto? Distance makes the heart beat longer.

I might say, “Sending love, hope, prayers—and maybe a good doctor’s name,” but it’d be muffled behind a triplelayer mask from the depths of my storm shelter, where I plan to remain for the foreseeable future.

The truth is, I’m a coward. So maybe... don’t put me on your notification list?

Let me live in blissful ignorance.

A return of Covid and its cousins, FluA, Flu B, and whoknows- what-next, aren’t jokes. Friends, loved ones, neighbors have died. Many are still dying. That’s why I’ve chosen to do more Zoom meetings and no ‘let’s sit across from each other and breath each other’s air.’ The distance between bodies is better especially if you don’t know exactly what that body has been touching.

Because your life—and mine—just might depend on it.

And who knows?After this winter’s flu season, we may be nostalgic for the simpler days of measles and polio. Oh wait, they are here, Again.