Pandemic Pandemonium

In the spring semester of 2020, universities sent students home. By the fall, universities were eager to get their students back on campus with certain precautions in place.

When I arrived on campus to move into the dorms at my previous university, there was a long line of people waiting to use the elevators. The line was filled with more space than people as everyone tried to remain socially distanced, each abiding by the Xs marked on the ground. Not looking to wait in line, my mom and I decided to take the stairs, five times climbing up and down, walking to my room, and setting the tubs into the room. Due to the pandemic, no one had roommates, so the space made for two was all for me.

The following morning at breakfast, in the dining hall, everyone had to remain six feet apart in  the lines or face the wrath of the university’s staff. We weren’t allowed to get our own drinks, and the salad bar was closed. Most tables and chairs were removed in order to keep the number of students sitting in one area low. I was also told I wouldn’t be allowed in the cafeteria if I didn’t have an app called CampusClear. This app was made for students to log their COVID-19 symptoms or lack thereof. If you selected any symptom at all, such as coughing, fever or headache, the app gave you a red screen with a frowning emoji to let all faculty and staff know that you would not be allowed on campus. If you didn’t log any symptoms, you received a green screen with a smiley face. 

Before class, the teachers had to check our CampusClear to see if students showed symptoms. The professor would then set up a Zoom meeting so that those who were sick could still learn. For the first month, my chemistry class was online, and my flute lessons were online all semester. It was a struggle for me to pay attention during these times.

Our biology reviews were also online and I never paid attention. I knew that I should.  I needed to take notes and do a final soak-in of the knowledge for the test. But, because no one was there to keep me accountable, I scrolled through social media and let my mind wander.

In mid-September, I woke up in a cold sweat. My muscles and throat were sore, my nose was runny, and I had a cough. I drove to a nearby emergency room to be seen. During intake, I had to answer a questionnaire about my COVID symptoms.  Though I was there for those symptoms, I was afraid that I wouldn’t be seen if I answered truthfully, so I told the survey that I was symptom-free.

Once in the room with the doctor, I didn’t beat around the bush when he asked me about my symptoms and he didn’t seem fazed that I had passed the questionnaire with my symptoms.

He performed a COVID test, which is a fairly uncomfortable test.  They stick a long cotton swab up both (sometimes just one) of your nostrils.  He told me that I would have the results of the test within 24 to48 hours. Until then, I needed to quarantine, just to be safe.

I went to my dorm and wrote an email to the COVID team to let them know that I was quarantining. I had to send them a note from the doctor on his instructions, and I couldn’t leave my room until I had my results. 

After sending my email, I got one in return from someone telling me that they will be bringing me my meals and that I needed to check the menu for the day to tell him what I wanted. This was a nice idea in theory, but this food seemed to have been made a bit in advance because, by the time it got to me, it was soggy or cold, depending on what I got. The food was delivered in a large brown bag and by the time I answered the knock, the deliverer was gone.

 During my first day of quarantine, I was worried about my laundry getting stolen or mixed in with someone else’s because I had started a load the day before, and I didn’t have a chance to go get it for a few days after that.

On the second day of quarantine, I was given my release. I  tested negative for COVID, so I could return to campus right away. I only had two days of online classes and overall, it wasn’t so bad.

However, one of my everyday activities that had to be modified because of the pandemic was playing with the school band. Personally, I thrive on playing music with a band, but I couldn’t have that experience last fall. We were in-person, but we needed to maintain social distancing, making it difficult to communicate and play. We had to wear special masks with holes in them, and we needed to place ‘bell’ covers on all of our instruments. With the fabric over the instruments, the sounds were muffled and some sounds didn’t come out at all. 

Additionally,  the band could only play for 30 minutes at a time indoors and then the room had to be aired out for an hour before it could be used again.  There were times when we were forced to play outside to accommodate this.

Overall, this was my college experience so far. But it should not have gone this way. With the rise of the Delta and Lambda variants, I am afraid that my education will continue to be more of the same; a shell of what it should be. I hope that my experience will encourage you to do your part to preserve college life and keep yourself and others safe. It is all well and good that I’m vaccinated, but if I hope to continue my education to its fullest, I need YOU, my community, to help keep the Valley safe. According to the New York Times COVID Tracker, Texas is the tenth worst state for COVID cases in America, and our neighboring states are first, third, and seventh. Closer to home, Hidalgo county is eighth in the state for daily average cases and fourth for daily average deaths. 

Therefore, it is imperative that, while no one at UTRGV can make you wear a mask, we continue to use common sense and maneuver our lives with caution. I am seeing certain communities that are much too relaxed. We need to realize that the removal of rules is not due to the danger passing. It is due to foolishness, which goes against wisdom. The situation has changed. According to the CDC, vaccinated people should still be masked. WE ALL SHOULD BE MASKED! 

Listen… college isn’t just about getting a degree. It’s about learning responsibility and making wise decisions. Gov. Greg Abbott may not be making responsible decisions on behalf of his state, but that doesn’t mean that we, as individuals, have to follow his sorry example.