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What Do We Do About COVID Now?
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Michael Ejercito
Apr 4, 2022, 1:02:13 AM4/4/22
to
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2022/04/11/what-do-we-do-about-covid-now
What Do We Do About COVID Now?
America’s battle with the pandemic has been more damaging than we like
to think. And it is still ongoing.
By Dhruv Khullar
April 3, 2022
“If I look at the mass, I will never act,” Mother Teresa once said. “If
I look at the one, I will.” During the pandemic, we’ve all grappled with
this dynamic. Our country is on the cusp of a grim milestone: soon, a
million people in the United States will have died of covid-19. Yet for
many Americans this reality seems vague, abstract—a group problem for
which we must take individual responsibility. We struggle to see the
crisis we’re in.
COVID as flowers blooming on tree overlooking the city
Illustration by João Fazenda
Part of the problem is fatigue. Another is that the coronavirus has
exacted its toll unevenly. covid is relatively unthreatening to younger
people, but has killed one in seventy-five older Americans; residents of
long-term-care facilities make up less than three per cent of the
population, but have accounted for about one in five covid deaths. The
death rate for Blacks and Hispanics has been twice that for whites. And,
owing to divergent immunization rates, people in the reddest counties
have been dying at more than three times the rate of those in the
bluest. For some of us, the pandemic may feel over, but more Americans
died of covid in 2021 than in 2020. So far in 2022, the virus has taken
another hundred and thirty thousand lives.
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It can be hard to grasp the meaning of such numbers. We might come to
terms with them by noting that U.S. life expectancy has now fallen by
nearly two years—the sharpest single-year decline since the Second World
War. We might count lost time, years forgone with family, friends, and
colleagues. An eighty-year-old who died during the pandemic lost an
average of almost eight years of life; a forty-year-old lost nearly four
decades. This means that a million deaths will have expunged tens of
millions of years of life—a mass erasure of new, strange, and wonderful
possibilities.
One of the most prevalent false beliefs about the pandemic is that the
government has exaggerated the number of deaths; in fact, the official
count is an underestimate. Since the pandemic began, at least a hundred
thousand more people have died in this country than would have during
normal times. Many of these “excess deaths” are uncounted covid
fatalities. Others are the result of missed care for conditions such as
heart attacks and strokes. Drug overdoses have risen to record levels;
skipped cancer screenings and childhood vaccinations will add to the
virus’s collateral damage in the years to come. The truth is that
America’s battle with covid-19 has been more damaging than we like to
think. And it is still ongoing.
VIDEO FROM THE NEW YORKER
A Beloved Scottish Tradition Returns After Quarantine
In parts of the country, cases are rising again. Reopening plays a role.
So does B.A.2, a subvariant of Omicron that is now dominant in the U.S.
and around the world, and is thought to be thirty to fifty per cent more
contagious than B.A.1, the version that swept across the U.S. this
winter. B.A.2 doesn’t appear to be more lethal, and vaccines remain
effective at averting the most serious consequences of infection; still,
it promises to cause breakthrough infections, and presents a serious
threat to the elderly, the immunocompromised, and the unvaccinated. Last
month, B.A.2 nearly tripled coronavirus cases in the U.K.; at one point,
one in thirty older Britons was thought to be infected. covid
hospitalizations and deaths rose, though not as dramatically—preëxisting
immunity softened the blow.
It’s not clear exactly how America’s B.A.2 story will unfold. Our
vaccination rates are lower than those of many European nations: just
two-thirds of Americans are fully vaccinated, and although the F.D.A.
has now approved a second booster for people over fifty, just sixty per
cent of them have received their first. Meanwhile, many states have done
away with most pandemic restrictions, and people are increasingly
returning to their pre-pandemic routines. Still, because immunity
against B.A.1 appears to protect against B.A.2, the U.S. may escape the
worst consequences: according to one estimate, nearly four in five
Americans have some Omicron immunity.
In 2020, when the virus arrived, the government’s response was halting
and disorganized. With time, however, something like consistency
emerged: Americans knew what was allowed and what wasn’t. We’re now
reverting to the Wild West phase. The Centers for Disease Control and
Prevention has indicated that less than one per cent of the population
currently needs to wear masks. Some states are shutting down their
testing and vaccination sites. Earlier this year, the Biden
Administration asked for thirty billion dollars in pandemic funding, but
Congress agreed only to some fifteen billion, and has so far failed to
authorize even that. As a result, the federal government has reduced
shipments of monoclonal antibodies to states and delayed the purchase of
more antiviral pills. It no longer has the funds to pay for tests or
vaccines for uninsured Americans, or to secure booster shots for the
fall. Politicians and policymakers hold powerful tools for curbing the
virus; increasingly, they are declining to use them. They’re also
stymied by the murkiness of our moment: the country contains within it
such a diversity of immunity, vulnerability, and attitude that no policy
prescription seems to fit.
Amid the uncertainty, individuals, organizations, and institutions must
do their best. This means giving people the resources to confront covid
not as an abstraction but through the decisions of daily life. During
moments of high viral spread, this effort might entail providing rapid
tests in the workplace, time off after exposure, outdoor spaces for
events, high-grade masks for all who want them, and a culture that
respects varying levels of risk tolerance and medical vulnerability.
Decades of behavioral-science research have revealed that our
decision-making depends crucially on our environment; even as
politicians discard mitigation measures, communities at school, work,
church, and elsewhere can make it easier for people to do the right thing.
For individuals, fighting the pandemic can feel a bit like combatting
climate change. Why recycle when policymakers allow carbon emissions to
rise inexorably? And, indeed, to defeat this and future pandemics, we’ll
need investments in ventilation and air-filtration systems, paid sick
leave, disability benefits, disease-surveillance programs, and more. But
it’s also true that individuals retain some agency. We can get booster
shots and persuade others to do so; we can make plans for accessing
monoclonal antibodies or antiviral pills. When cases rise, as they will,
we can consider how we might lower the chances that we’ll pass on the
virus to someone for whom the consequences could be catastrophic. After
two years of ebbs and flows, of surges, variants, vaccines, and
boosters, our choices matter, perhaps now more than ever. ♦
Published in the print edition of the April 11, 2022, issue, with the
headline “One in a Million.”
--
This email has been checked for viruses by AVG.
https://www.avg.com
What Do We Do About COVID Now?
America’s battle with the pandemic has been more damaging than we like
to think. And it is still ongoing.
By Dhruv Khullar
April 3, 2022
“If I look at the mass, I will never act,” Mother Teresa once said. “If
I look at the one, I will.” During the pandemic, we’ve all grappled with
this dynamic. Our country is on the cusp of a grim milestone: soon, a
million people in the United States will have died of covid-19. Yet for
many Americans this reality seems vague, abstract—a group problem for
which we must take individual responsibility. We struggle to see the
crisis we’re in.
COVID as flowers blooming on tree overlooking the city
Illustration by João Fazenda
Part of the problem is fatigue. Another is that the coronavirus has
exacted its toll unevenly. covid is relatively unthreatening to younger
people, but has killed one in seventy-five older Americans; residents of
long-term-care facilities make up less than three per cent of the
population, but have accounted for about one in five covid deaths. The
death rate for Blacks and Hispanics has been twice that for whites. And,
owing to divergent immunization rates, people in the reddest counties
have been dying at more than three times the rate of those in the
bluest. For some of us, the pandemic may feel over, but more Americans
died of covid in 2021 than in 2020. So far in 2022, the virus has taken
another hundred and thirty thousand lives.
Sign up for This Week’s Issue
The week’s must-read stories, delivered every Monday.
E-mail address
Your e-mail address
Sign up
By signing up, you agree to our User Agreement and Privacy Policy &
Cookie Statement.
It can be hard to grasp the meaning of such numbers. We might come to
terms with them by noting that U.S. life expectancy has now fallen by
nearly two years—the sharpest single-year decline since the Second World
War. We might count lost time, years forgone with family, friends, and
colleagues. An eighty-year-old who died during the pandemic lost an
average of almost eight years of life; a forty-year-old lost nearly four
decades. This means that a million deaths will have expunged tens of
millions of years of life—a mass erasure of new, strange, and wonderful
possibilities.
One of the most prevalent false beliefs about the pandemic is that the
government has exaggerated the number of deaths; in fact, the official
count is an underestimate. Since the pandemic began, at least a hundred
thousand more people have died in this country than would have during
normal times. Many of these “excess deaths” are uncounted covid
fatalities. Others are the result of missed care for conditions such as
heart attacks and strokes. Drug overdoses have risen to record levels;
skipped cancer screenings and childhood vaccinations will add to the
virus’s collateral damage in the years to come. The truth is that
America’s battle with covid-19 has been more damaging than we like to
think. And it is still ongoing.
VIDEO FROM THE NEW YORKER
A Beloved Scottish Tradition Returns After Quarantine
In parts of the country, cases are rising again. Reopening plays a role.
So does B.A.2, a subvariant of Omicron that is now dominant in the U.S.
and around the world, and is thought to be thirty to fifty per cent more
contagious than B.A.1, the version that swept across the U.S. this
winter. B.A.2 doesn’t appear to be more lethal, and vaccines remain
effective at averting the most serious consequences of infection; still,
it promises to cause breakthrough infections, and presents a serious
threat to the elderly, the immunocompromised, and the unvaccinated. Last
month, B.A.2 nearly tripled coronavirus cases in the U.K.; at one point,
one in thirty older Britons was thought to be infected. covid
hospitalizations and deaths rose, though not as dramatically—preëxisting
immunity softened the blow.
It’s not clear exactly how America’s B.A.2 story will unfold. Our
vaccination rates are lower than those of many European nations: just
two-thirds of Americans are fully vaccinated, and although the F.D.A.
has now approved a second booster for people over fifty, just sixty per
cent of them have received their first. Meanwhile, many states have done
away with most pandemic restrictions, and people are increasingly
returning to their pre-pandemic routines. Still, because immunity
against B.A.1 appears to protect against B.A.2, the U.S. may escape the
worst consequences: according to one estimate, nearly four in five
Americans have some Omicron immunity.
In 2020, when the virus arrived, the government’s response was halting
and disorganized. With time, however, something like consistency
emerged: Americans knew what was allowed and what wasn’t. We’re now
reverting to the Wild West phase. The Centers for Disease Control and
Prevention has indicated that less than one per cent of the population
currently needs to wear masks. Some states are shutting down their
testing and vaccination sites. Earlier this year, the Biden
Administration asked for thirty billion dollars in pandemic funding, but
Congress agreed only to some fifteen billion, and has so far failed to
authorize even that. As a result, the federal government has reduced
shipments of monoclonal antibodies to states and delayed the purchase of
more antiviral pills. It no longer has the funds to pay for tests or
vaccines for uninsured Americans, or to secure booster shots for the
fall. Politicians and policymakers hold powerful tools for curbing the
virus; increasingly, they are declining to use them. They’re also
stymied by the murkiness of our moment: the country contains within it
such a diversity of immunity, vulnerability, and attitude that no policy
prescription seems to fit.
Amid the uncertainty, individuals, organizations, and institutions must
do their best. This means giving people the resources to confront covid
not as an abstraction but through the decisions of daily life. During
moments of high viral spread, this effort might entail providing rapid
tests in the workplace, time off after exposure, outdoor spaces for
events, high-grade masks for all who want them, and a culture that
respects varying levels of risk tolerance and medical vulnerability.
Decades of behavioral-science research have revealed that our
decision-making depends crucially on our environment; even as
politicians discard mitigation measures, communities at school, work,
church, and elsewhere can make it easier for people to do the right thing.
For individuals, fighting the pandemic can feel a bit like combatting
climate change. Why recycle when policymakers allow carbon emissions to
rise inexorably? And, indeed, to defeat this and future pandemics, we’ll
need investments in ventilation and air-filtration systems, paid sick
leave, disability benefits, disease-surveillance programs, and more. But
it’s also true that individuals retain some agency. We can get booster
shots and persuade others to do so; we can make plans for accessing
monoclonal antibodies or antiviral pills. When cases rise, as they will,
we can consider how we might lower the chances that we’ll pass on the
virus to someone for whom the consequences could be catastrophic. After
two years of ebbs and flows, of surges, variants, vaccines, and
boosters, our choices matter, perhaps now more than ever. ♦
Published in the print edition of the April 11, 2022, issue, with the
headline “One in a Million.”
--
This email has been checked for viruses by AVG.
https://www.avg.com
HeartDoc Andrew
Apr 4, 2022, 1:13:32 AM4/4/22
to
>respects varying levels of risk tolerance and medical vulnerability.
>Decades of behavioral-science research have revealed that our
>decision-making depends crucially on our environment; even as
>politicians discard mitigation measures, communities at school, work,
>church, and elsewhere can make it easier for people to do the right thing.
>
>For individuals, fighting the pandemic can feel a bit like combatting
>climate change. Why recycle when policymakers allow carbon emissions to
>rise inexorably? And, indeed, to defeat this and future pandemics, we’ll
>need investments in ventilation and air-filtration systems, paid sick
>leave, disability benefits, disease-surveillance programs, and more. But
>it’s also true that individuals retain some agency. We can get booster
>shots and persuade others to do so; we can make plans for accessing
>monoclonal antibodies or antiviral pills. When cases rise, as they will,
>we can consider how we might lower the chances that we’ll pass on the
>virus to someone for whom the consequences could be catastrophic. After
>two years of ebbs and flows, of surges, variants, vaccines, and
>boosters, our choices matter, perhaps now more than ever. ?
>Decades of behavioral-science research have revealed that our
>decision-making depends crucially on our environment; even as
>politicians discard mitigation measures, communities at school, work,
>church, and elsewhere can make it easier for people to do the right thing.
>
>For individuals, fighting the pandemic can feel a bit like combatting
>climate change. Why recycle when policymakers allow carbon emissions to
>rise inexorably? And, indeed, to defeat this and future pandemics, we’ll
>need investments in ventilation and air-filtration systems, paid sick
>leave, disability benefits, disease-surveillance programs, and more. But
>it’s also true that individuals retain some agency. We can get booster
>shots and persuade others to do so; we can make plans for accessing
>monoclonal antibodies or antiviral pills. When cases rise, as they will,
>we can consider how we might lower the chances that we’ll pass on the
>virus to someone for whom the consequences could be catastrophic. After
>two years of ebbs and flows, of surges, variants, vaccines, and
The only *healthy* way to stop the pandemic, thereby saving lives, in
the U.S. & elsewhere is by rapidly ( http://bit.ly/RapidTestCOVID-19 )
finding out at any given moment, including even while on-line, who
among us are unwittingly contagious (i.e pre-symptomatic or
asymptomatic) in order to http://tinyurl.com/ConvinceItForward (John
15:12) for them to call their doctor and self-quarantine per their
doctor in hopes of stopping this pandemic. Thus, we're hoping for the
best while preparing for the worse-case scenario of the Alpha lineage
mutations and others like the Omicron, Gamma, Beta, Epsilon, Iota,
Lambda, Mu & Delta lineage mutations combining via
slip-RNA-replication to form hybrids like
http://tinyurl.com/Deltamicron that may render current COVID
vaccines/monoclonals/medicines/pills no longer effective.
Indeed, I am wonderfully hungry ( http://tinyurl.com/RapidOmicronTest
) and hope you, Michael, also have a healthy appetite too.
So how are you ?
...because we mindfully choose to openly care with our heart,
HeartDoc Andrew <><
--
Andrew B. Chung, MD/PhD
Cardiologist with an http://bit.ly/EternalMedicalLicense
2024 & upwards non-partisan candidate for U.S. President:
http://WonderfullyHungry.org
and author of the 2PD-OMER Approach:
http://bit.ly/HeartDocAndrewCare
which is the only **healthy** cure for the U.S. healthcare crisis
Michael Ejercito
Apr 4, 2022, 1:45:55 AM4/4/22
to
Michael
HeartDoc Andrew
Apr 4, 2022, 7:23:44 AM4/4/22
to
Michael Ejercito wrote:
While wonderfully hungry in the Holy Spirit, Who causes (Deuteronomy
8:3) us to hunger, I note that you, Michael, are rapture ready (Luke
17:37 means no COVID just as circling eagles don't have COVID) and
pray (2 Chronicles 7:14) that our Everlasting (Isaiah 9:6) Father in
Heaven continues to give us "much more" (Luke 11:13) Holy Spirit
(Galatians 5:22-23) so that we'd have much more of His Help to always
say/write that we're "wonderfully hungry" in **all** ways including
especially caring to http://tinyurl.com/ConvinceItForward (John 15:12
as shown by http://bit.ly/RapidTestCOVID-19 ) with all glory (
http://bit.ly/Psalm112_1 ) to GOD (aka HaShem, Elohim, Abba, DEO), in
the name (John 16:23) of LORD Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Amen.
Laus DEO !
Suggested further reading:
https://groups.google.com/g/sci.med.cardiology/c/5EWtT4CwCOg/m/QjNF57xRBAAJ
Shorter link:
http://bit.ly/StatCOVID-19Test
Be hungrier, which really is wonderfully healthier especially for
diabetics and other heart disease patients:
http://bit.ly/HeartDocAndrew touts hunger (Luke 6:21a) with all glory
( http://bit.ly/Psalm112_1 ) to GOD, Who causes us to hunger
(Deuteronomy 8:3) when He blesses us right now (Luke 6:21a) thereby
removing the http://tinyurl.com/HeartVAT from around the heart
8:3) us to hunger, I note that you, Michael, are rapture ready (Luke
17:37 means no COVID just as circling eagles don't have COVID) and
pray (2 Chronicles 7:14) that our Everlasting (Isaiah 9:6) Father in
Heaven continues to give us "much more" (Luke 11:13) Holy Spirit
(Galatians 5:22-23) so that we'd have much more of His Help to always
say/write that we're "wonderfully hungry" in **all** ways including
especially caring to http://tinyurl.com/ConvinceItForward (John 15:12
as shown by http://bit.ly/RapidTestCOVID-19 ) with all glory (
http://bit.ly/Psalm112_1 ) to GOD (aka HaShem, Elohim, Abba, DEO), in
the name (John 16:23) of LORD Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Amen.
Laus DEO !
Suggested further reading:
https://groups.google.com/g/sci.med.cardiology/c/5EWtT4CwCOg/m/QjNF57xRBAAJ
Shorter link:
http://bit.ly/StatCOVID-19Test
Be hungrier, which really is wonderfully healthier especially for
diabetics and other heart disease patients:
http://bit.ly/HeartDocAndrew touts hunger (Luke 6:21a) with all glory
( http://bit.ly/Psalm112_1 ) to GOD, Who causes us to hunger
(Deuteronomy 8:3) when He blesses us right now (Luke 6:21a) thereby
removing the http://tinyurl.com/HeartVAT from around the heart
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