Going On Vacation In The Midst Of A Pandemic

Here’s my story.

Since the middle of March and the world as I had known it shut down, I have been doing my best to comply. I sheltered-in. I’ve been wearing a mask ever since it was mandatory and I only went out for food. Since then I have expanded my trips from just the super market to the post-office, the bank, CVS and an occasional trip to Target. I’ve ordered take-out, hosted small outdoor group gatherings at my house and hung out with a few friends here and there.

I sanitize and wash my hands after every stop to the extent that they are red and swollen and itchy.

I’ve pretty much been doing everything right, until the day I decided to do something wrong. Or seemingly so.

After several years of talking about it, my husband and I decided to rent a vacation home about a year ago in an area of Puerto Rico we had come to love. We had spent about 2 weeks there in February, and when we left, we not only thought about when we would come back in April. May and June, but who we would come back with. I don't need to tell you how those plans turned out.

(cue the plague)

Finally as the curve started to flatten, we decide to go for it. After our flight was cancelled not once, but twice, we managed to book a flight to San Juan in mid-July. A few days before we were leaving, my son asked me if I was excited to be going and getting away. I turned to him and shared that I was actually quite nervous. Aside from my typical nerves about flying and leaving the house and the dogs in the hands of he and his sister, I wasn’t sure we should be going on vacation in the midst of pandemic. I was becoming a cross between an agoraphobe and a person suffering from Stockholm syndrome; way too comfortable with the security and familiarity within my own walls and the 5-mile radius around them. That, and was air travel safe during a pandemic? It might depended on which doctor or political figure I decided to listen to at the moment. My husband, who had actually already been to Puerto Rico with a friend a few weeks before to check on our house, our car and our boat (and to go fishing), assured me everything was fine and his flight was less than half full. So I took a deep breath and we left.

The airport on a Sunday morning was naturally pretty empty. We breezed through security and everyone was actually relatively pleasant, even the TSA guy. The area around our gate seemed pretty populated, but then again, people were spread out around the surrounding seating areas. Then we got on the plane. Starting with check-in the day before, we were reminded up until the time we boarded that the flight as full. Full? I don’t know for sure, but I thought airlines were supposed to follow similar guidelines to the rest of the world and function at limited capacity. And this was one of those big planes. You know, the kind with aisles along the outside of the plane and then an aisle down the middle. From my perspective there were not too many empty seats, and in our own row of four, it wasn’t until the stewardess came over and suggested the woman sitting next to us with the child in her lap, move to a more comfortable seat that was free. For those of you struggling with math right now, that was 5 people booked to be sitting in a row for 4. My husband and I took the opportunity to move down a seat creating our own empty seat between us and the guy next to us. However, also from my perspective, everyone, as were we, was wearing a mask. I even barely took mine off to drink my complimentary mini bottle of water and pretzels. The flight was uneventful. As was, baggage claim, waiting in line to speak to airport security about whether or not we felt sick in any way, and the car rental desk. After wearing a mask for 7 hours straight, I was thankful to be in the car and on our way….maskless!

We arrived to the house just in time for dinner, and since the fridge was empty, the supermarket was closed, my having this thing about not making dinner while on vacation and complimentary pretzels and a mini water bottle being my only meal of the day thus far, we went out. We decided on an outdoor dining place we like to go. With my mask on, I crossed the threshold of the restaurant and as my temperature was taken and my hands sprayed with sanitizer, I realized as we walked to our table, that this was the first time I was eating in a restaurant in 4 months.

There were many “firsts in 4 months” guilty pleasures that week (emphasis on guilty). I ate inside and I ate outside. I went to the beach for the first time this Summer and sat there all day until the sun set. I took an outdoor Spinning class too. There were 5 people in the class plus the instructor. I thought I was clever positioning myself in the back. Less about concern I wasn’t going to be able to keep up having not done this for so long, but I didn’t want to be up wind of all the heavy “aerosol” breathing going on. Never mind there was an ocean cross breeze and all the germs were probably flying anyway. It was great pretending that life was normal, at least for a little while. I even walked into town for a little retail therapy. But, I felt guilty about all of it every minute. So much so, I hadn’t even told everyone I went away. A friend who had no idea where I was, happened to call one day, just because. They asked me what I was up to and I said nothing. I wasn’t really lying. I was doing nothing. I was just doing it on the beach in Puerto Rico.

Everyone around me was practicing safe social distancing. The beach was not crowded. The restaurants spaced out tables and limited hours of operation. Every place we went took our temperature and sprayed our hands with sanitizing spray, including the supermarket. And everyone was wearing masks. But yet it still felt wrong.

The flight going home was just as bad as going there. The plane was “filled” and there was no empty seat in our row of three. I was happy to land, get back in my own car and head home.

Was it worth it? Am I glad I went? It was definitely a situation where if I hadn’t gone, I would have wished that I had. I would have loved to have been able to do all the things there that I liked doing but couldn’t because of pandemic restrictions. I needed the self-care though. I needed a week of not deciding, making and cleaning up dinner. I needed to not deal with my three dogs for a week. I needed a break from the routine of my alternate reality.

So why am I sharing all of this with you? I purposely waited until two weeks have past since I flew on an airplane from Puerto Rico to publish this post. I figured if I was going to contract the highly contagious COVID-19 I would have done so from that airplane ride home. Neither my husband nor I came down with anything during the past two weeks. I know. We could have been contagious and had no symptoms, but I find it hard to believe that if either of the two of us brought something home that not one of the 4 people living in my house, especially the one with a suppressed immune system, came down with anything.

I am in no way suggesting that this pandemic isn’t real, or as bad as they say and I am not trashing my mask. But I know people who have not left there house. They have not stepped past the footprint of their property line due to fear. I have also seen people mask-less and those wearing it under their nose. And I saw a family of four wearing those white plastic suits, masks and face shields. And I respect all of their decisions. (Well maybe not the hazmat family. That’s a little extra).

I’m sharing this because all we hear about are the horror stories. All we hear are the number of cases and the number of deaths and the number of people who got sick, even if they recovered. All we hear is sick, sick, sick.

So here is my success story…from a person who by medical expert standards, participated in a high risk endeavor and I didn’t get sick.

I am sure you are wondering if I would do it again? Well, I have currently sunk back into my agoraphobic Stockholm syndrome ways and since we left Puerto Rico, there was a damaging hurricane and the Governor of Puerto Rico imposed COVID-19 related restrictions again for fear of a surge in cases (the statistics in Puerto Rico are currently safer than NJ-Cases 16,061 Total 0.5% Per Capita. Deaths 211 Total 0.007% Per Capita).

So, maybe in September?

Jessica