As opposed to me, hard down with whatever awful malady it was, Marlow kept working. Here is what he thought in mid-March of this strange and improbable year.

– Vic

“With almost 100 million Chinese and likely many more tens or hundreds of millions to fall under effective home quarantine and without access to medical treatment, memories of past personal quarantines have slowly ebbed into my mind. Outside of being put in hack during my Navy career, I was quarantined three times during my childhood.”

“Back in the early 50s, I, as the eldest, and my #1 sister found ourselves diagnosed with serious tuberculosis infections. I recall being treated in a hospital and then at home by adults who didn’t wear any protective clothing — no gowns, masks or goggles. I recall the knockout punch of the drugs administered and the chilled rooms and tables where x-rays were taken. There were long periods of unconsciousness or semi-conscious sleep as if the disease had straitjacketed us during its battle with the drugs.”

– Marlow

1940’s American TB poster campaign saying “Your kiss of affection, the germ of infection”

We were confined to a special but open hospital ward yet were isolated from the family when we went back home. The only person we saw was our mother who brought us food and drink and escorted us to and from the bathroom for bathing and toileting. We saw no one else for a week or so.

Four years or so later, my #1 brother and I contracted scarlet fever. Instantly a quarantine sign was placed on our home’s front door and we were confined to our bedroom for weeks on end. Again the only person we saw outside of our masked doctor was out mother.

This time was different. Our mother would bleach down the entire bathroom after each of our visits. Despite being told to drink huge amounts of water, we learned to hold it and not request potty breaks more than 2 or 3 times a day.

Our sole activity was a never ending rest hour waiting for the drugs to take effect. Or not.

We rested 24 hours a day
We ate our meals and hit the hay
Till we relapsed and heard the doctor say
Here’s more pills, please rest today

We limply lived in this limbo, not knowing until decades later that our parents dreaded not knowing if our lives would go on. Our scarlet fever rest hours lasted for two more weeks and cost us somewhere well north of 20% of our body weight.

And perhaps back then our parents thought
Their eldest two, the farm, had bought
Would fate force them to carve these words above our heads
It’s time to rest

My third quarantine came after no-notice TB Skin Tests were performed on all students in my elementary parochial school one morning. My reaction was instant and ugly with me PPD converting and an angry red puffy mass on my arm. Neighboring kids pointed it out to sister. I was instantly quarantined in the school principal’s office.

It took some stern parental explaining and my pediatrician’s visit to the school to free me from this jail sentence. Sadly, my quarantine continued for several more days as students wanted nothing to do with me until their memories and my fiery arm rash faded.

Life does go on, but memories remain of how lucky we were to live in such a fortunate place and time.

Let’s hope the Chinese and others so infected are as lucky.

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