Social Distance and Mental Health in a Pandemic

Visualization of the primary benefit of classes learning: you get to take your dog to class.

Source: Andrea Piacquadio/Pexels

They say it takes a big person to admit when they are wrong, and the last 48 hours have made it clear that I was wrong about how much impact that handful of COVID cases on a cruise ship off Japan would have on my life.

My university, like an increasing number across the country, has canceled classes for the rest of this week and is moving all classes to online delivery beginning on March 16. Public schools—including my son’s—are also closing up shop temporarily. Long-anticipated vacations are being canceled, at substantial cost. People who have jobs that can be done remotely are being advised to do so and opportunities to publicly gather are shrinking fast.

I’m not certain that these types of moves are unprecedented, but they are certainly highly unusual and disruptive. One of my new favorite memes about the situation is “I guess now we are finally going to find out which meetings really could have just been an email.”

I am still not afraid of this coronavirus as a health-hazard for me, personally. I am concerned for the health of my parents and in-laws who are in their 60s and 70s and have urged them to take the same precautions I spoke about last time. I am following the recommendations of the CDC to scrub up often and more thoroughly than I ever have. While such cleanliness will help protect me, more importantly, it will help prevent me from inadvertently spreading illness to others who have more underlying health problems. This is true whether we are talking about coronavirus or the flu.

It is still inappropriate to interpret numbers in isolation, without context. In the US we have now settled on a context for interpreting the number of cases that is resulting in what may feel like “disproportionate” actions: and that context is the capacity of our healthcare workforce. Whether we are talking about the number of hospital beds, the number of healthcare providers, or the amount of medical supplies, our nation has some, but far from complete, ability to absorb a substantial increase in the patient population.

You know what you can be near during social distancing? A dog.

Source: Bekka Mongeau/Pexels

I put the term “disproportionate” in quotes because closing schools, canceling major sporting events, etc. can feel out of sync with the relatively low risk that any one individual, particularly those who are younger and/or without chronic health conditions, has of experiencing serious complications from this virus. I understand and share in the sense of disappointment and the feeling of being unmoored that these cancellations bring. But I am trying to refocus and orient myself to the “new normal” of teaching online, managing staff remotely, and doing as much of my job from my home as I can. Again, not for concern of my own health, but in the hope that this will help keep the number of new cases—which will continue to grow in the weeks ahead (both as new cases develop, and as more cases are detected due to expanded testing)—at a slow enough pace that our healthcare system can handle them.

We are still in the acute phase of adjusting to these cancellations, and feelings of distress during acute changes are to be expected. Adjustment takes time but will happen.

I have some concerns for the mental health of students who are being told to stay home, particularly those who have a history of depression, anxiety, or related conditions, or who have challenging or tenuous home lives. The instructions college students across the nation are getting are three-fold: (1) stop coming to class, student events, etc., (2) leave campus if you can, and (3) spend time alone on your computer. These are not the ingredients for learning, let alone promoting mental health, and I know I am not alone in trying to figure out how to provide the best learning experience I can for my students. I’ll be experimenting with this and learning as I go these next few weeks.

I also have concerns about the mental, physical, and financial well-being of healthcare providers and others who do not have the privilege of being able to work from home. The critical problem of burnout among healthcare providers has long been discussed—pandemic or not—but systemic solutions have yet to be offered. My paycheck is not affected by moving classes online, or if I take sick leave, but that is not true for the paychecks of vendors who work at canceled sporting events, festivals, etc. or of people who work at jobs without paid leave. I hope this crisis provides an opportunity and the political will to reflect on what kinds of short-term and long-term solutions can be brought to bear on these issues.

In short, public health isn’t just for times of crisis. And public health isn’t just about preventing or responding to infectious diseases: It is about creating and sustaining the types of environments that support mental and physical health on a daily basis, for everyone.

Finally, I want to state for the record that I have not made any purchases of toilet paper. However, I will admit to buying a box of tissues and a larger-than-necessary bottle of Nutella during a recent shopping trip (but then again, what does “necessary” even mean when we are talking about Nutella?).