LIVING
THROUGH COVID-19 - PART 1
It’s hard to believe that only one week ago, Elva
and I rode with Caloosa Riders Bicycle Club in Cape Coral, Florida. As we
sat in front of The Bagel Factory, saying goodbye to our friends, American
and Canadian, I wondered what lay ahead for all of us. How bad would it get? Would
any of us come down with the virus? What would transpire in the twelve months
before we saw one another again?
We spent the rest of Saint Patrick’s Day loading
bicycles, suitcases, 2020 Christmas gifts, and other assorted odds and ends into
the car. That evening, we strolled through downtown Fort Myers one last time,
past closed bars, half-empty restaurants, and our beloved Starbucks,
serving grab-and-go only. There were no chairs for us to sit outside. Early the
next morning, we left Poinsettia Park and headed north on I-75.
I was ready for anything, traffic-wise and
weather-wise, and really didn’t know what to expect as we began the 3,600-kilometer
trek north. We’d booked a hotel near Savannah, Georgia, 800 kilometers from
Fort Myers. Traffic was relatively light on I-75 and I-10 but started to bunch
up when we reached I-95. Checking into our hotel around 5:30 we noticed that
things had changed and, most importantly, that hotel employees were very
mindful of their responsibility to keep us safe.
Around 2:00 the next morning, realizing we were both
awake, Elva and I chose to hit the road and have a few hours of easy driving
before the hordes arrived. We always take an alternative, and slightly longer,
route to avoid the busy I-95. It takes us past Columbia, SC, Charlotte, NC,
Roanoke, VA, and through Pennsylvania, staying away from Washington, New York,
and Boston. Trusting the GPS, I made the mistake of taking I-78 toward Newark,
NJ and, before realizing what I’d done, was heading straight for New York City
at evening rush hour. Shit!
To our amazement, I-95, which runs through the heart
of New York, was nearly empty. The last time we’d crossed the George Washington
Bridge over the Hudson River, we’d waited over an hour at the toll plaza. As the
photos show, there was one car ahead of us and very light traffic. Driving through New Rochelle, a
Covid-19 hotspot, was eerie. Around 6:00 pm, we stopped at a market for
something to eat—grab-and-go—and drove the short distance to our hotel in West
Haven, CT. We’d logged 1,600 kilometers. Again, hotel staff were on high alert,
surfaces were being disinfected, and we were told that breakfast would not be
served because of the virus.
Up at 4:00 am, we grabbed our bagged breakfast and headed
for Charlottetown; only 1,200 kilometers to go and the worst of the traffic
behind us. I’d ignored all the foolish rumours about what would happen at the
border crossing between Calais, ME and Saint Stephen, NB. After a
fifteen-minute wait, we rolled up to the kiosk and were questioned in French by
a very professional CBSA Agent, M. Sigouin. He asked us the usual questions
about when we’d entered the US, where we’d stayed, and where we were going. He then
asked us whether we had a fever or cough, gave us written instructions on
self-isolation and wished us a safe journey home. After three hard days on the
road, we were glad to be back.
We unpacked the car, being careful not to touch any
surfaces in the building entry and corridor with our bare hands, and settled in
for our first night of self-isolation. Prior to our arrival, I’d composed an
email for our neighbours, advising them of our ETA and explaining that, if we
went outdoors for a bit of fresh air, we’d come and go by our balcony since our
apartment is at ground level. I asked that the message be forwarded to building
management.
The next day, I received an email from a
representative of the building’s owner, a publicly-traded real estate
investment trust that owns hundreds of units on Prince Edward Island, telling
me that we must stay in our apartment—no exceptions—and that we could not enter
and exit our apartment via our balcony. This left me more than a little
frustrated as I’d been told by Health PEI’s Covid-19 hotline that day that people
self-isolating were permitted to go outside for a walk or bike ride to get some
fresh air.
What to do? At 10:43 pm on Saturday, I emailed Dr.
Heather Morrison, our Chief Health Officer, explaining our situation and asking
her to clarify the guidelines around self-isolation for apartment dwellers and
owners. To my utter amazement, she responded at 10:53! She explained that, yes,
there was some confusion and that she would attempt to clarify.
On Monday, March 23, she did clarify things,
reassuring Elva and I that we had the right to leave our apartment building
through the corridor and entry, providing we took measures to avoid touching
surfaces and respected social distancing guidelines.
Unfortunately, the media did not report this part of
her remarks, leaving the impression that people in self-isolation should not go
out. Anyone who doubts what I've said should watch and listen to Dr. Morrison’s March 23 press
briefing and read the email she sent me (see below).
She also mentioned that, if it’s an option,
apartment dwellers who live on the ground floor should come and go from their
patio if possible. I asked building management if they would remove the short,
fifteen-inch section of balcony railing shown in the photo (held in place by
eight screws and four bolts) so that we could come and go by this route and
thereby avoid the corridor and building entry. They refused. In email exchanges
with the Provincial Fire Marshal and the City Fire Chief, I learned that they
have no jurisdiction over such matters. This is what happens when concerns
about liability trump common sense.
I emailed Dr. Morrison yesterday to thank her for
clarifying the self-isolation guidelines for apartment dwellers and owners. I received
her response at 12:35 am:
Hello Mr Arsenault,
Thank you for your follow-up email, and I was
thinking about you when I was speaking today. We have put together a
draft information piece related to apartments, and if all goes well, it should
be available on the website within the next day. I mention it because it
will hopefully help clarify some questions for others as well going forward.
Of course, the information continues to change very quickly, and if anything
evolves in terms of new direction from us, we will let you know.
Take good care,
Heather
Dr. Morrison is an exemplary professional. She epitomizes the
true public service vocation and is a credit to our province. She cares about
people. We could not be better served. In Canada, our leaders, political
and medical, seem to be singing from the same song sheet. I’m thankful for
that. It's certainly not the case everywhere.
Elva goes for a walk every day. I went with her yesterday. We walked on the
Confederation Trail out to the Charlottetown Mall and then to Joe Ghiz Park. Many
people were out and about, all of them practicing adequate social distancing. When
things warm up a bit, I’ll be on my bike. We’re both symptom-free and
determined to stay that way.
We’re taking this emergency very seriously while
trying to maintain a balance between social responsibility, our rights as
individuals, and our own health and well-being. I’ve washed my hands more in
the past week than I during the rest of my 66+ years! On our way back from
Florida, we touched no surface without washing or disinfecting our hands, and
used paper towels on door handles and gas pump handles. We’ll continue to
follow the guidelines to the letter, recognizing that they may change at any
time. If they do, we’ll comply.
