The Right Thing

Someone was telling me today of how wearing the mask has caused rashes at the back of his ears. He was wondering if I had experienced the same problem, which luckily I haven't. It was easy to imagine just how deeply uncomfortable it must be for him. By the end of the weekend the rashes have largely eased, but then with work on Monday they flare up again. Arrgghh.

But here's the thing. I was being told this without the slightest sense of the person involved complaining about having to wear a mask. It was entirely understood that since it's the right thing to do, it must be done. Indeed, I don't think I've heard a single person here, young or old, complain in that sense. I suspect that when the pandemic is all over (and let's hope it is, one day) that even if it were to be found that the wearing of the masks hadn't been as efficacious a measure as it now has every appearance of being, people here wouldn't feel terribly aggrieved. As far as we can tell it's just the right thing to do for the good of everyone, and that's it. I suppose that's what's so deeply puzzling about the fact that it does seem to be an issue in some places elsewhere.

And the fact that front-line medical workers all over the world have to wear layers of protective gear throughout their shifts is a potent reminder that even if we think we have something to moan about, we haven't. Not in the slightest.