My grandfather bought a camp in Maine back in 1960. He passed away last Fall at the age of 100, and now the camp belongs to my father and his sister. With my grandfather’s house sold to a developer, the camp became, in a real way, the central hub of my extended family on my father’s side.
Except for my wife, my daughter, and me (who live in Vermont), every living member on my father’s side of my family lives within six miles of each other on the north shore of Boston: my parents, my brothers and their families, my aunt and uncle, my cousins and their families.
As of this past Monday (July 17th), their county in Massachusetts had a COVID-19 infection rate of 778 Active Cases Per Million. According to Vermont’s interstate travel guidelines, we can travel to see our extended family members in that county, but we have to quarantine for fourteen days when we return. If the Active Cases Per Million were 400 or lower, it would be safe for us to travel and return without having to quarantine.
The county in Maine where our camp is located has a current infection rate of 348 per Million, but I’m not dumb enough to think that because I visit my Massachusetts family in Maine, I won’t have to quarantine; the virus won’t magically disappear when they drive through the New Hampshire tolls.
But then I found out that my parents, my oldest brother, and his family were vacationing at the camp for over a week, partially quarantining their hypothetical Massachusetts germs. Eight days isn’t the science-recommended fourteen days, but I figured it was better than nothing. If they all still felt healthy at the end of the week, then maybe we could drive over to see them.
The camp has enough beds for about 15 snoring and farting people, but us Vermonters would stay in a tent in the yard. We’d venture inside to use the bathroom (wearing a mask the whole time), but that would be it. We’d play, eat, and sleep outside.
We’d also practice social distancing, paying special attention to my seven-year old, and do our best to help her maintain that distance even when playing with her cousins in the lake.
We’d wash our own dishes, cook our own food, etc.
It’d be a pain in the ass for two nights, but it’d be worth it to see my family again.
The problem, really, was what could happen on the other side of our visit, despite our absolute best intentions.
The pandemic of COVID-19 does not help people, such as myself, who have been diagnosed with a general anxiety disorder. Coping strategies work, but having a general anxiety disorder can mean that sometimes, just sometimes, you overthink it.
But when the scientific community sounds an alarm as loudly as they’re still sounding this one, a wise person takes notice.
Like all of us, I have people I worry about in this pandemic: my parents in their seventies, friends and family members who are immunocompromised, students who are unable to take care of themselves, friends who live on the edges of poverty and homelessness, my wife and daughter who are…my wife and daughter.
I cannot imagine the guilt I would feel if my inability to follow my state’s guidelines caused one of them harm.
The chances of doing so by visiting the camp are low, especially given that our Vermont county has an infection rate of 132 per Million and my town has had less than six infections since the pandemic began, but there’s a reason why Vermont set the number of Active Cases Per Million to 400.
The state admits that the number isn’t based on any “scientific evidence or scientific literature that we could rely on” because Vermont was “really the first state in the country…pretty much the first jurisdiction in the world that contemplated this, and it’s the first time we’ve had a pandemic of this level in 100 years.”
According to Vermont’s state epidemiologist, “The 400 threshold was determined based on a comparison of Vermont’s active case count compared to that of counties in the Northeast.” The Department of Financial Regulation Commissioner who announced the number added, “400 was a relatively safe number in terms of the low transmissibility. It looked similar to Vermont’s disease prevalence.”
In other words, if it was relatively safe to travel from one county to another in Vermont, then it had to be relatively safe to travel to other counties in the Northeast, provided their prevalance looked like Vermont’s.
Any honest estimate must acknowledge that the science backing the 400 threshold is less than stellar.
Any honest estimate must acknowledge that the science backing the 400 threshold is less than stellar (even before you take into account the weaknesses of the underlying data, which is mostly related to how margins of error in the raw data get exacerbated when converted to Active Cases Per Million), but 400 is the number the people I’m trusting to look out for my community say is optimum, so that’s the number I’m going with.
If I trust scientists when they talk about climate change, I need to trust scientists when they talk about the pandemic.
In the end, the main reason my wife and I decided not to visit our Massachusetts family at the camp in Maine was because of the quarantine we’d have to do when we returned. While there’s no state enforcement of that quaratine, I (again) can’t imagine the guilt I would feel if we brought COVID from the camp to one of my friends, neighbors, colleagues, students, or students’ family members.
Like so many of us (but not enough), my wife, daughter, and I work hard to do our part in putting an end to this pandemic. We wear and wash our masks, and we limit our social circles to what seems our emotional minimum.
Even here in Vermont, where the infection rate is among the lowest in the country and where, according to data for my county, cases are actively decreasing and we’re on track to contain COVID-19…even here, we’re still wearing and washing our masks, still limiting our social circles, and still following our state’s guidelines.
Even when it sucks.
Fourteen days with just the three of us, stuck on our quarter-acre property, unable to visit with neighbors or play with friends, unable to restock at the grocery store (without depending on someone else), with a seven year old whose energy levels cause her to dance and cartwheel whenever she talks, and the anxieties and pressures of two still-working teachers and parents…fourteen days locked in quarantine…
That shit just sounds bad…like, lasting-damage bad.
Especially when you consider that, almost immediately following those fourteen days of quarantine, all of three of our schools would be back in session, adding to our already considerable stresses.
I love my Massachusetts family with all my heart, and I hate that I cannot yet visit them in Maine without going into quarantine, but according to everything that seems to be true, that has to be the decision for us.
Fuck Trump and fuck his useless administration.
