After reading NIH guidelines for jam sessions during the pandemic, I decided to wait before I began playing again. But on learning that a jam session I like is coming up, I began to question whether I had chosen rightly, or had simply become a scaredy-cat regarding re-exposure to the COVID-19 virus.

Although I was not making my decision rationally, my better judgment said “check out your decision with someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

So, I dialed up the Health Department.

My call was answered by a robot, who said, “All the circuits are busy now; please try your call later.”

“Later” was much too indefinite: it might be an hour, a day, a month. I needed to put the matter to rest, so I made the emotional decision to climb in the SUV and drive to Health Department.

A Deputy Sheriff motioned me to the checkpoint.

“What can we do for you?” he asked, from behind a mask that reached from below his glasses to the base of his neck.

“I’ve had COVID-pneumonia, and both vaccines, I replied. “I need a professional recommendation as to whether to play in a jam session. “

“Pull up there near the door,” he replied,” I’ll see who I can get to help.”

“Could I speak with a nurse?”

“I’ll see,” he said as he dialed his phone.

“Lord, please let me speak to a nurse,” I asked, as I pulled up near the building.

There, I watched groups of masked people—some young some not—walking in to get the vaccine, then returning, until another masked deputy started walking toward me.

“How can I help you?” he smiled as he walked up to my window.

“I’m a musician,” I answered, “I’ve had COVID, got the last shot a couple of weeks ago. Now I need a nurse to tell me if it’s safe for me to play in a jam.”

“Would it be OK if I just bring you back a message?” the deputy asked.

“O.K.,” I nodded, imagining how the busy the nurses must be. But what I really needed was first-hand information: to talk to an authority, mask-to-mask.

In about 5 minutes the Deputy returned, with a masked woman in her forties walking behind him.

“I found you a nurse,” he said.

“Hi,” she said as she walked up. “How may I help you?”

“I’m a musician,” I replied. “I’d like to know if I should play in a jam next week.”

“Have you had the vaccines?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, “I got my second vaccine a couple of weeks ago,” then I added, “I had COVID plus pneumonia in December.”

“Could you tell me about the venue?”

“There’s a stage,” I said, “with the audience sitting at least 20 feet from it. They’ll wear masks, and maintain social distance.”

She nodded.

“The singers won’t wear masks,” I continued, “but they will maintain social distance.”

I paused.

“But I will wear one, and I expect the other musicians to do so as well.”

“I see,” she replied. “As a public health nurse, I must give you the same guidelines, you’ve heard all along: mask yourself, and avoid those who don’t mask, continue to maintain social distance. Wash your hands often. Don’t touch your face. Stay away from crowds.”

“And don’t jam now?”

“In the situation you describe, I’m afraid not.”

I looked over at the deputy, and back to the nurse.

“Thank both of you for this information. Now I know what to do.”

I drove to the check point, slowed down to thank the guard who helped me, then drove away.

“I guess I won’t be jamming,”” I said.

Confirming my decision not to jam, I felt both better… and worse. Better because I had chosen the safer alternative, worse because I can’t jam yet.

After hearing someone respond, “I can’t live in fear. I’ll be careful, but I’m not staying home,” I began to doubt my decision again, so I looked up “decision making,” online.

There I found a plan posted by mirasol.net, to which I’ve appended my responses:

1.State the Problem: “to Jam or not to Jam?”

2.Gather information to weigh options. “Talked to self and a public health nurse”.

3.Consider the consequences: “To take a chance to get COVID again—or not.”

4.Make Decision: “Avoid COVID risk—Don’t jam ‘til authorities say it is safe”

5.Evaluate: For the sake of personal safety, I cannot risk getting COVID again.

The rational decision was the right one, but for the sake of personal enjoyment, an emotionally disappointing one.

I’ll get over my longing to play by looking forward to the time when the rational answer “to jam or not to jam?” will be a different one.