If you are around my age, you might remember David Vetter. Likely you don't remember him by name; you knew him as "the boy in the plastic bubble." Not the cheesy 1976 movie with John Travolta. David Vetter was the real boy in the plastic bubble. You can read more about him here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Vetter
Basically, David was born with an inherited condition that made him extremely vulnerable to germs. His older brother died of the condition. So when David was born, doctors decided that the best chance he had at life was to live in a bubble, without any human touch.
He lived in a hospital for the first few years of his life. Everything he came into contact with - clothes, diapers, toys, food, had to be sanitized first. Medical personnel and his family touched him wearing big, thick gloves that were attached to the bubble. As he grew older, a series of bubbles were constructed so he could move around. He did everything in these bubbles: slept, ate, played. Eventually he attended school remotely. NASA designed a space suit that allowed him to go outside and explore. But the suit was uncomfortable, and there were so many protocols to follow that he only wore it a few times.
When he was 12, David agreed to an experimental bone marrow treatment. He did not want to live in a bubble forever. Unfortunately he became ill a few months after the transplant, and was removed from his series of bubbles. He died a few weeks later. Much was learned from his life, and death. Children with his condition can now live normal lives.
I mention David Vetter because I cannot imagine living without human touch for twelve years. I have now lived without human touch for a little more than two months, and it is so difficult. I am physically distancing from the two people I come into contact with: my roommate and my caregiver. I am doing this as an added precaution, because I am high risk for the virus. The last time I remember touching anyone was March 10 - my birthday. And I don't know when it will be safe for me to stop the physical distancing.
Most of us need physical touch in some form - a hug, a pat on the back or arm, hand holding, etc. Physical touch keeps us grounded, connected, it positively impacts our mental and emotional well-being. I think not only of David Vetter, but also people in psychiatric hospitals or solitary confinement in prisons. They are severely isolated as well, sometimes for years or even decades. I cannot imagine what that feels like. I don't want to experience it any longer than I have to. And that's part of the problem. I don't know how long I need to.
I am a person who likes touch.
I like to hug.
I like to be close to people.
Not uncomfortably close.
I don't invade personal space.
I like to hang out with people. I'm in an introvert; I need my alone time. But I enjoy spending time with others. My activities with friends and family are invaluable to me: eating out, going to book clubs, movies, concerts, etc. I miss all of that tremendously. Video chat is great, but it doesn't replace in person contact.
I am so grateful that I get to spend some time with my roommate: watching tv shows, movies, and talking, but even he and I are usually at least half a room apart.
No sitting on the couch together.
No hugs in times of celebration or sorrow or anxiety.
No silly times in our small kitchen together.
Together, but separate.
librarianintx
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