I am not old enough to remember the scourges of  the previous century–the diphtheria, typhoid fever, and polio that put sinister quarantine signs on people’s doors and kept children away from swimming pools and playgrounds. But in this age of mass immunizations and state-of-the-art medical care, here we are.

Are we fanning hysteria or being proactive and sensible and where’s the line? This isn’t like a snowstorm or weather disaster where there will be a finite end to the event, albeit with damage and interruption to our daily lives along the way. This is way more than closed roads and downed trees. The one thing we know is that we don’t know what to expect and how to prepare, outside of washing our hands and obsessively using hand sanitizer.

This week, an elderly relative was hospitalized due to complications from the flu, not the famous virus. She was utterly debilitated, and her other chronic health conditions were significantly worsened by this strain of the flu. Her caregivers wore full haz-mat gear. She is a vital and active ninety-year-old, but she remains in the hospital, recovering. Watching this unfold definitely skewed my perspective.

We are told that for those who are healthy, the virus may cause a period of fever, discomfort and coughing. Nothing worse than what most of us have experienced many times in our life as a result of a cold or other run-of-the-mill viral infection. But it’s our inter-connectedness that comes into play. We are not alone, regardless of how those greedy buyers of mass quantities of hand sanitizer and toilet paper perceive themselves. We have an obligation to care for, and about, each other. And until we know more, we must protect those who are most vulnerable even at the cost of our own wants and needs.

Right now, on a tiny, tiny scale, my husband and I fret about what will happen to the concerts and events planned by the musical organizations with which we are involved. Those events are often attended by older people who are most at-risk and contingency plans are being discussed.  I cannot begin to imagine the implications for schools and colleges, athletic events, medical and care facilities, transportation centers, restaurants and stores. It is not an overstatement to say that our entire way of life may be impacted for the foreseeable future.

I am not one to over-react. To be honest, I never get flu shots because thirty-four years of touching germ-laden violins has given me a pretty healthy immune system. My husband and I hope we don’t have to miss the St. Patrick’s Day parade or the symphony or anything else on the calendar this month. I am washing my hands more frequently, and I may pick up a few extra pantry staples on this week’s grocery run. We are erring on the side of common sense infused with a healthy dose of caution. But if a government entity tells us to stay home, we will. I hope the pandemic is short-lived, but if nothing else, in this era of bitter and hateful division, it reminds us of our common humanity and that we are so very much all in this together.