A new etiquette spontaneously evolved.
I am walking on the sidewalk. A couple is walking in my direction. I reach for my mask and begin to put it on. The couple veers off the sidewalk into the grass. I veer into the grass on the other side of the walk as we pass one another.
A child around age ten is riding a bike. He stops short of the corner so I may pass by at a distance of over six feet.
In the gas station, the supermarket, the drug store, and almost any retailer, tape or decals on the floor mark off six-foot intervals. Almost everyone in line respects that distance.
A driver passes at the corner. He is wearing a mask inside the vehicle.
We had a gathering of seven on our patio, about as many as can adequately distance in that space. After enjoying pizza, we settled into conversation for about an hour, all wearing masks.
I reach the restaurant where I have ordered carry out from the online menu. I wear a mask as I lower the window to speak with the server. The masked server comes out with my order and
places it on the back seat.
Somehow, we have all evolved a new etiquette. The principles are simple. Wear a mask. Keep a six-foot space between people. When you are out and about, wear a mask into every business. When walking near others, give a wide berth.
I am older. My family includes members with high risk medical problems. The etiquette feels as if it is a matter of survival.
But then the story is more complicated. An unmasked couple walks towards me and makes no sign of following the new rules. They walk straight towards me. When I realize they have no intention of changing course, I make a right turn in order to walk over to the street.
As I am walking down the sidewalk, a young man walks more quickly than I do, overtaking me. He passes no more than four feet away, breathing heavily. I turn my masked face to the other side and stop in my tracks for a few seconds to let his aerosols drop from the air.
A woman behind me in the checkout line at the supermarket has two children with her. I am unloading my groceries onto the conveyer belt. She is wearing her mask under her chin! It's uncomfortable to stand in front of her. This feels risky. But she is far enough away and is not speaking. I don't say anything.
A boy about seven asks me about a plant I am transplanting — a red shade of echinacea — and comes right up to me without a mask. I was finished with my task before the absence of masks struck me. Children can carry and transmit COVID-19 without having significant symptoms.
A tree was blown over in a storm. A neighbor wants me to see a photo of it on his smart phone. He walks right up to me and puts the phone about a foot from my face. This happened so quickly, I didn't have a chance to think about the lack of distancing. His eager approach is startling and uncomfortable.
I find myself keeping track of these exposures to people who are not masked and who get too close. I wonder if one of these exposures may be an actual exposure to COVID-19. These are violations of the new etiquette. Like any other set of courtesies, most follow the informal rules. Some may not follow the rules.
Think ahead. For a viable vaccine that is 60% effective, we will watch months pass while it is manufactured, distributed, and administered. The FDA announced it may approve a vaccine that is just 50% effective. I read that one third of Americans claim they may not accept vaccination. By the time the vaccine is widely administered, the US may conservatively see 10,000,000 cases and 250,000 deaths from COVID-19. Because of the lack of vaccine effectiveness, vulnerable persons and people who have reason to be gathered in close proximity with others will still be wearing masks. The new etiquette will be with us deep into 2021 and possibly into 2022.
These courtesies are not about the person who thinks he or she is invulnerable, who thinks the disease will not cause severe symptoms. They evolved to protect all the people that person may run into, people who may be at more risk. Like other rules of etiquette, the purpose is to facilitate social interaction and to prevent offense to others. In this case, that offense can be life threatening. I hope these informal rules of etiquette continue to evolve.
By the way, the flu vaccine is out and I plan to get mine this week.
Shorehaven Behavioral Health Inc is a mental health and substance abuse treatment clinic in the Milwaukee area. Shorehaven has a large staff, so callers can quickly receive telehealth throughout Wisconsin and in-person therapy in Milwaukee.
