Back when a trip to the grocery store was scarier than any horror movie, the sound of a cough could do me in.  “I don’t like the sound of that cough,” I’d announce to my husband.  Full disclosure, as a health care provider, even before the pandemic, I haven’t liked the sound of a lot of coughs and been vocal about it. But this, of course, was different.  It was at that terrible time, at the height of the pandemic in New York.  About the time we stopped making eye contact with other people and scooted out of their way as if they, and we, were lepers.  And not just the coughing ones.  Anybody.  We were all masked but we lived in fear that we were not protected enough.  I wasn’t on the front lines but lot of my cohorts were, and texted me their horror and helplessness.  It was the end of the world, or as close to it as we had ever gotten.

And then we got vaccinated.  And more and people did.  And the numbers started plummeting. We could gather indoors with other vaccinated people, which was extremely awkward at first.  We had forgotten how to socialize, the give and take of in-person conversation, the nuances and cues not picked up on video calls. Even the dogs were awkward with visitors, alternately aloof and overly affectionate.   But it all came back to us.  

The outdoor mask mandate was lifted. The indoor one lifted by the CDC but still being decided by the states. And just like that, we are not afraid anymore.  I may still not like the sound of that cough, but I can live with it.