I miss human touch.
I miss the loving embrace of a hug. I miss handshakes. I miss the feel of lips that kiss a cheek in greeting. I miss feet that meet in the middle of a couch on a sleepy Sunday afternoon with the newspaper or with books. A head that drops on a shoulder in a darkened theatre. I miss the feeling of a hand that clasps a shoulder in recognition of a job well done.
Damn pandemic.
Scientists have long since proven that which we all know from experience. Human touch soothes. It is compassionate and loving. It is scientifically proven to reduce stress, relieve pain, reduce anxiety, and I dare say, repair cracks in our soul. We have a whole system of nerve fibres, called C-tactile afferents (yes, I googled it!), that recognizes any form of gentle touch. They’re not getting a lot of use these days.
Damn pandemic.
I shouldn’t complain. There are some who have been almost without touch since March 2020. I at least had my daughter home for some of it, and she would be the first to say – rolling her eyes – that I took advantage of having her home. For those who live alone, it has been a cold, empty, lonely time. And I think we’re all weary from doing the right thing for so long.
Human beings are literally programmed to respond to touch. So what happened when we’re denied it? If touch increases trust, decreases violence and builds a sense of community, you can only imagine that the reverse has been happening.
I shook hands with a colleague I hadn’t seen in a long time the other day. We are both double vaccinated and both had a negative rapid test that morning, so we felt safe. But as skin touched skin, even in this formal ritual, that seemed so commonplace at this time two years ago, it made me realize how touch-starved I feel.
I lucked into an earlier than planned third vaccine this weekend. May it, and the other doses that will be jabbed into arms in coming weeks, help us finally get to endemic versus pandemic.
Because if it doesn’t, Christmas lights notwithstanding, it is going to be a long, cold winter.
