Plague!

Which of these doctors would you prefer to come to your bedside as you writhe around in pain, the one in 21st century PPE or the 17th century masked man? Why the beak, you ask? It was both a way to identify him as a plague doctor and into which he could cram the herbs that were supposed to ward off the poisonous miasma people believed carried the disease. Surprisingly, his historical garb, a gown of waxed leather and a long stick with which to social distance himself, isn't that different from today's!

How are you coping with the strangeness of our new pandemic normal? I would argue that it is tougher for us now to take all these weeks of trying to avoid COVID-19 than it was for those who went through the Black Death in 1340s and the Great Plague in London in 1665. Here are my theories, whacky though they may be!

Disease was a way of life back then, and it was why when you look at the statistics of life expectancy in, say, medieval times, it is much lower than today's. Children under five were the greatest casualties of what we would deem minimal, treatable illnesses today; men died in the thousands in the many wars of the period; malnutrition and tainted water took others; and then there was smallpox, plague, dysentery, typhoid, and tuberculosis, none of which was curable. These people were used to death and disease of those close to them--it was the will of God, most believed.

Hygiene was a thing of the future, although obviously the plague doctor understood that wearing protective clothing from head to toe might see him through an epidemic safely. "Cures" came in the form of ground unicorn horns, dried snakeskins, treacly theriac (which incorporated viper flesh, ground coral and pearls, thus out of reach for the commoner). We on the other hand expect our medical scientists to work miracles, which for the most part they do, but we want those miracles now. So I would posit we are far more fearful of falling sick with a new virus than our ancestors were.

I am hearing from many sources on TV, radio and social media how bereft people are feeling in isolation, and I am no different. We are not used to staying confined to our homes without access to our friends, other family members, the mall, movies, theater, restaurants, sports events or even church. Planes, trains, and cars take us to far-away places in a blink of an eye. We are a very connected society, which was not the case in medieval times, when a man rarely left the boundaries of his village, let alone his county, and when interaction with others meant working the fields, shearing the sheep, and going to church. After the daily toil, most families lived in one room and rarely spent time at others' dwellings. Large gatherings were reserved for a royal procession, hangings, and the occasional peasant revolt! They had no TV, radio, telephone, Zoom or FaceTime, and the majority couldn't even read. It would astound them that we grizzle about being isolated, when we have all of those connections at the click of a mouse or remote.

And then there were the anchorites--women (usually widows) who chose to be walled up for the rest of their lives in a cell adjoining a monastery or abbey, where Like Margery Kempe and Julian of Norwich, they dispensed wisdom and comfort out of a tiny window to pilgrims who considered them saintly and "wise." Talk about isolation! No thank you.

What have I been doing since self-isolating with my husband on March 11th? A couple of firsts: attempted unsuccessfully to paint the new door to our bathroom--it looks awful; and recorded myself reading a scene from "A Rose for the Crown" for my publisher's Facebook page and a local studio theater (see link). I've painted (successfully) our very long picket fence, gone on bike rides, cleared out six boxes of "stuff" in the basement, practiced yoga with a video sent from our teacher while she was in Beirut, read three books, battled a nasty virus (no, not THAT one) for two weeks, had some over the fence chats with friends in town, learned to use Zoom, connected with friends in France, Germany and England, done a 1,000-piece Beatles jigsaw puzzle, and watched some good TV shows. After three weeks of dealing with another virus (not COVID, according to over-the-phone diagnosis) I was finally able to focus on reading books. So far I have read three, and I find I am only interested in plot-driven narratives at the moment!

Probably the most important thing I have learned during these six weeks, is that I definitely married the right person.

Would love to hear some of your coping mechanisms!