Healthy relationships: Missing a reassuring touch during the COVID-19 pandemic

An unexpected benefit of remote work and endless Zoom calls is that I get to see the children of my colleagues pop into the picture occasionally. While I know, having been a parent trying to talk on the phone, how annoying it can be when you are trying to work from home and have constant little interruptions from the kids, from this side of parenting it is sort of fun.

I really like being on a video chat and seeing a small child crawl into a parent’s lap sometimes because the technology is interesting, sometimes because they want attention, but sometimes it is just because they want to be in their parent’s lap. Sometimes, you just need someone to hold you close.

It is sadly ironic that during these times of anxiety and fear around COVID-19, for many people this is also a time when getting a reassuring touch from someone is not an option. I think about my 88-year-old father in a Colorado retirement facility who is fed and cared for, able to interact via FaceTime and Zoom with his family and friends, who regularly connects through the computer with his church, but who hasn’t had a handshake or hug in two months.

Given the vulnerability of the elderly to the coronavirus and its wildfire spread through retirement facilities and nursing homes, I wouldn’t have it any other way. But still.

I also think about the young woman I saw in the hospital emergency department last fall during a Sexual Assault Forensic Exam. As I walked into the room and introduced myself, I could tell she was frightened and traumatized. She was alone, with the police officer, the nurse and me there to support her through this incredibly difficult process.

For those of you who don’t know, a forensic exam following a sexual assault is designed to minimize the additional trauma to a victim – but that isn’t the same as being easy. The victim recounts what happened to the nurse and the police officer and the advocate (that was me) while also providing medical information so they can be cared for. When the officer left the room, the hard part, a thorough physical exam, began.

I asked the young woman, I’ll call her Lisa, if she wanted me to stay with her through the exam and she said yes. The nurse was wonderful, thoughtful and kind, but a forensic exam with its swabs and head to toe search for evidence of an assault is always hard and by its very nature invasive. And then comes the internal gynecological exam. As the nurse told Lisa what was happening and what would come next, I could see Lisa tense, her face full of anxiety. I moved my chair a bit closer to the bed and asked, “Would it help if you held my hand?” She nodded, reached over and grabbed my outstretched hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. Throughout the process, I told her that she could do this, she wasn’t alone, and she would get through it. And she did, but holding the hand of a supportive stranger helped.

Touch is critical to human beings. We need it, when we don’t have it we crave it, and we too often take its power for granted. It is clear that it will be a very long while before we return to a world of casual handshakes or hugs of greeting or handholding with people we don’t live with. There is a sadness in this new reality that will take a while for all of us to understand and come to terms with. We will do it because we must in order to defeat this virus and save others’ lives and our own. But I do hope that someday, we will be able to return to a world where we can show our love and support – to family, friends and strangers when appropriate – through a careful and respectful touch.