Among my very first memoire essays, was one entitled, “Pimple on His Chest,” in which I wrote about one of my earliest memories – the death of my five-year-old-best-friend, Jimmy Rossi. When he died, my mother told me that the cause was from a pimple on his chest. For many years thereafter, I deeply feared to see a pimple on my chest. It was a sure sign I would die. It was only decades later I realized the cause of Jimmy’s death was polio myelitis and I was not doomed to die from a pimple-on-my-chest.
Polio was, indeed, the scourge of my childhood. Throughout the country, kids were forbidden to gather together for any reason. Our isolation was mandatory. No parent wanted a child to spend the remainder of one’s life inside of an iron lung. Finally, in the late fifties, there was the sugar cube laced with a vaccine that warded off the menace of infantile paralysis.
But now, some seventy-five years later, the generation which no longer fears the polio virus has become the major target for the coronavirus that causes a respiratory disease called COVID-19. We have come a long way in our understanding of what a virus, itself, might be.
In recent years, we have learned about the Ebola virus, which causes hemorrhagic fever. That virus, discovered in Africa in the mid 1970s, was not thought of as a possible worldwide threat until 2018, when it spread rapidly through the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Uganda and Tanzania. Nevertheless, this virus was judged, by most Americans, to be an unlikely problem in the U.S. We had been conditioned to believe that viral epidemics could not occur in a modernized society.
In the previous year, 2017, our western states had outbreaks of a hantavirus that caused both hemorrhagic and pulmonary diseases. Most citizens, however, thought they could avoid the rodent droppings, which carried the hantavirus, or the body fluids which served as the repositories for the Ebola virus. We went about our daily lives with minimal disturbances. We even learned how to coexist with AIDS and HIV.
Now, in 2020, in a time of national and international unrest due to many political, economic and cultural reasons, our current virus, indeed, wears a new crown. This coronavirus possesses a disruptive authority not seen since the time of the bubonic plagues of the fourteenth century, when the population of Europe was truly decimated by yersinia pestis bacteria. With the demise of the clergy as well as peasants and merchants, the accompanying intellectual, economic, and cultural changes were extremely significant. According to some, this is the time when the use of vernacular languages as well as the peasant revolts of Europe increased. With this history, who knows what the long-term effects of COVID-19 might be.
Thus far, there have been modest impacts on the small events that shape our lives. At last Sunday’s mass, communion was distributed only in the form of the consecrated host; the use of the common chalice was forbidden. At the exchange of peace, the congregation smiled at one another; no longer did people shake hands or exchange a hug. In some parishes, the holy water fonts at the entrances into the sanctuary were emptied.
The self-service at the buffet held each Sunday in our retirement community was replaced by the wait-staff transferring food to our plates. The use of hand sanitizers was strongly encouraged when entering the dining room. According to some, the price of such items has increased tenfold, if you can even find them in a grocery or pharmacy store. And whatever else you do, don’t touch your face!
Nationally and internationally, travel is being restricted by both governmental authority and personal concerns. Major international gatherings have been cancelled in Austin and Houston. So far, the Rodeo and Livestock Show are still open, but the crowds may tend to be limited. Even Texans are reluctant to be exposed to the coughs and sneezes of anyone who might be carrying a “bug.”
Each year, thousands die because of the flu virus, but it appears that death from routine causes – be they cars, guns or flu viruses – can be tolerated, whereas aliens, whether they are a virus originating in China or refugees from Mexico, are to be avoided at all costs.
It would seem that every human has his own pimple on his chest. We will, no doubt, continue to fear these blemishes until we realize we are calling them by the wrong name and fear them needlessly. No scientist is close to discovering the cure for the virus of xenophobia. I hope they do better for COVID-19.