If you’re feeling overwhelmed by the Delta variant, you’re definitely not alone. In my family of six, only three of us are vaccinated, and the other three—including my young children—aren’t. Many of my friends and relatives find themselves in similar situations, leading us to ask: what are we supposed to do now, especially with back-to-school season upon us?
Does it feel like the guidelines we’re meant to follow change daily? Trusted sources often contradict each other. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve read that we should each approach the virus with our own judgment, but what does that even mean anymore? I’m utterly fatigued by the constant flood of COVID-related information and the accompanying confusion. Like everyone else, I wish this pandemic chaos would come to an end, but the data shows our kids are at greater risk than ever.
The pressure to make the right decisions is particularly heavy for me right now, as I’m undergoing treatment for breast cancer. Although I’m no longer classified as immunosuppressed after finishing chemotherapy last month, my treatment hinges on my family’s health. If anyone contracts the virus, I can’t attend my daily radiation appointments. The stakes feel incredibly high.
Over the past year and a half, my family has done our best to adhere to the rules, even as they seem to change weekly. We’ve diligently worn masks, waited our turn for vaccinations, practiced social distancing, and minimized outings. We’ve only dined in a restaurant once since the pandemic began, and that was just to pick up food. We try to stay informed, but we often find ourselves stuck in a “but what about” mindset.
Take gathering with extended family, for example. We haven’t participated in weddings, funerals, or birthday parties during this time. Missing Christmas last year was particularly painful for me—it’s my favorite holiday. We chose not to gather because three of us were considered high risk, and I knew too much about the dangers of transmission in close quarters.
Even with our best efforts, I don’t feel at ease. In fact, I’m exhausted. It often feels like I’m carrying the weight of this pandemic for my family. Watching others enjoy their lives on social media only amplifies my feelings of resentment, jealousy, and disappointment. I can’t help but wonder how much longer we will have to live in this “new normal,” where we must always be cautious based on hypotheticals.
Will society ever move forward? It seems there are two clear groups: those who take the virus seriously and follow safety precautions, and those who are living without concern. Will this endless cycle of worry ever end?
We haven’t traveled since the pandemic started. I yearn to take my kids to the beach and enjoy the sun and surf, but being around crowds feels irresponsible. Our family gatherings have been restricted to outdoor settings only. I miss hugging my nephews and shopping with my sister. It feels like life is passing us by.
Some days, I fantasize about disregarding the rules and hosting my extended family. I want my teenager to celebrate their thirteenth birthday with friends. I miss my coffee catch-ups with pals. Yet I know that each decision could jeopardize my unvaccinated children, my treatment schedule, and the well-being of fellow patients I meet.
I’m not afraid, as many might assume. I choose to “love my neighbor.” But it’s disheartening to feel isolated in this choice and uncertain about how to best protect myself and others.
To complicate matters, my kids just returned to school, and I’ve already received emails about students testing positive. How long until we’re back to remote learning, cooped up indoors through the fall and winter? If only a fraction of us follow the guidelines, how will we ever reach the other side of this?
Ultimately, I worry about children who lack the layered protection of the vaccine. Masks and social distancing aren’t foolproof or always feasible. Kids sometimes wear their masks incorrectly or need breaks to eat. I eagerly await studies that confirm when it’s safe and effective for children to get vaccinated. The waiting is agonizing.
I feel defeated and exhausted from the mental toll of making virus-related decisions, especially knowing that half of my family might be okay while my youngest children remain vulnerable. What’s enough, and are we possibly overdoing it? I desperately want to see an end to this ordeal, but when will that happen? What will it take?
It seems like no one truly has the answers.
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