Figure it is about time we offered an update on that little thing you’ve maybe heard about called the coronavirus. We were traveling in northern Thailand with my mom and stepdad when news began to break about the virus and its scale. We learned rather quickly that Gabe’s school will be closed until at least the 17th, which left open some options and raised some questions. Do we return home to Xiamen? Do we stay in Thailand? The former is what my travel-fatigued self wanted most after a month of traveling. I’m not complaining, but I am ready to return to our life and routine in Xiamen. However, that’s not what exists there currently. Instead it’s an eerily quiet city of five million, and it would be the three of us at home all day every day except for an occasional walk or trip to the store.
More significantly, after checking for updates daily and knowing that millions of people still needed to make the trip back to China following the New Year holiday, it felt more comfortable to let things unfold for another week or two and avoid the busiest travel days. Fortunately, we’re in a country we’ve come to know a bit over the last month and happen to really like. It’s also affordable and the food is delicious. So we are hunkering down in a nice Airbnb condo in a “quiet” residential area in Bangkok until the 15th, unless something changes, which honestly wouldn’t surprise me.
Now about the paranoia and fear that seemed to grow with the virus. I debated writing about this because it’s a tad embarrassing and more so upsetting to relive, but I think it warrants sharing because it attests to my own personal reaction to the wave of anxiety surrounding the coronavirus and a level of paranoia I didn’t even realize I was experiencing.
Julia suddenly got a fever a few nights ago. She was very tired, and I noticed (or maybe imagined) her breathing was labored. So we zipped her over to the renowned international hospital for what turned out to be a 5-plus-hour terrible experience. We didn’t intend to go to the ER, but obviously that’s where they took us once they realized her fever and that we’d been in China not long ago. We ended up quarantined in a room we couldn’t leave. The care was appropriate, and in hindsight exactly what you’d expect when the world is concerned about a contagious virus, but it was difficult to appreciate in the moment, when you realize you don’t need to be there, your daughter is overtired, sitting in a harshly lit sterile room, face to face with a nurse fully suited in PPE (appropriate, but terrifying for a two-year-old), and you can’t leave. It was awful and hands down my most painful and regretful parenting moment in Julia’s two years.
Rather than assessing the situation for what it was, I turned to “what if.” A totally unrealistic “what if” that caused more harm than good. In seconds, I convinced myself she was sick and could have the virus everyone was terrified of at that moment. When you’re inundated with both accurate and inaccurate information, when nearly every conversation revolves around a global health crisis, and when you walk down the street and almost everyone is wearing a mask, things can feel more threatening than they are. This “what if” spiral can be more dangerous than the issue at hand. It can lead to regretful overreactions like our hospital visit and to the xenophobic responses we later saw at every level, from individuals to foreign governments.
The reactions of people we know have varied. Many of Gabe’s colleagues are back in Xiamen, but many also decided to stay where they were when news broke. There seems to be a defensiveness, a need to justify your choice. Ultimately, I think it’s a personal decision, as much as it can be, to do what feels best for you and your family, while of course not being a jerk or putting others at risk. For many, there is no choice because of quarantines, lockdowns, transportation changes, resources, and other factors. They’re forced to live with the situation wherever they are. And beyond the headlines, there are millions of people who didn’t get to celebrate their most treasured holiday with loved ones, whose day-to-day lives have been dramatically affected and livelihoods threatened, who in one way or another are suffering.
