I think what I need to do here is pepper in some jokes and fun links where I can because the thing I’m most interested in right now isn’t very fun and it’s about some trouble we have coming down the line that we should be ready for. I doubt we’ll be ready for it but it’s a-coming. OH GREAT, JOHN, I SURE AM GLAD I SUBSCRIBED.
A theory
These are all taken from articles about depression.
Maybe we have it all wrong. Maybe the real cause of depression is windows.
Man, get away from those windows.
Covid is set to cause severe damage to those who never caught it
Okay. Let’s get to it.
A couple of interesting things have been happening since it became clear that vaccines from Moderna and Pfizer are on the way.
And another one from AstraZeneca.
One is that at some point the national conversation shifted from “One day there will be a vaccine” or “Usually vaccines take three years minimum” to “Here’s the plan for when we roll out the vaccine in December.” A huge leap forward and an example of scientists doing great things at breakneck speed. Still, no one really seemed to be jumping for joy. In my house, my kids greeted the good testing results for the vaccines with wariness. It wasn’t “Whoo-hoo!”, it was “Tell me more about the FDA approval process and the distribution infrastructure.” Covid has turned my children into serious adults who are dubious about good news. They weren’t like that before.
I do think it’s hard to cheer loudly when you’ve been lying in the mud for several months. But it’s also a recognition that our problems are not over, they have simply begun to shift. We’ve had the tornado and now comes the damage assessment and the clean up.
And friends, this is going to be hard to clean up. This place is such a mess.
For now, let’s talk about the trauma of covid for those who survive. There isn’t a vaccine for trauma. It’s much more complicated and enduring than pharmaceuticals can address and it’s going to be with us for a long time.
In The Washington Post, Erin N. Marcus, a professor at the University of Miami, writes:
I think of the woman who, after her mother and sister died of covid, lost the motivation to take her diabetes medication, or do much of anything else. The man who recovered from covid but who now can’t sleep because of flashbacks to his time in the hospital. The woman whose adult children recovered from covid — but who is so anxious about venturing out of her tiny apartment that her normally well-controlled blood pressure has rocketed to dangerously high levels….
Every person who dies of covid-19 leaves behind, on average, nine close family members — a grandchild, son, daughter, brother, sister, spouse, mother or father. The grief experienced by those surviving family members and friends is a normal reaction to loss. But some psychologists fear that the circumstances of covid-19 — in which people might die unexpectedly or alone, and without the normal rituals of community remembrance such as a memorial service — may increase the likelihood of prolonged grief disorder, a disabling condition that can last years and raise the risk of suicide or alcohol and drug abuse.
Marcus links to a study by the National Academy of Sciences that flags the potential bereavement multiplier effect of covid. For every one person who dies, nine people will have lost a close relative and be affected by that loss. The study was published July 10, 2020 and says if deaths reach 190,000, that means 1.7 million Americans will be affected by the bereavement. So these are 1.7 million people who are, to some extent, disabled for varying amounts of time, which affects their ability to contribute to society. But again, that’s from July.
The widely cited University of Washington covid model currently projects 470,974 covid deaths in the United States by March 1, 2021. Put the bereavement multiplier in there, that’s 4,238,766 people losing a close relative and in states of bereavement. And as huge a number as that is, it severely undershoots the extent of the issues because it doesn’t count any cousins, aunts or uncles, friends, coworkers, or neighbors.
And that’s just the beginning of the ripple.
Dr. Lalita Abhankyar, writing for the American Academy of Family Physicians, describes one of those ripples spreading out with a patient she saw via online visit:
She had quarantined for COVID-19 due to recent exposure to someone who had died, and now she needed a note to start work again.
"Wait, who died?" I asked.
"My husband," she said. "He was dead when I woke up."
Diana's matter-of-fact tone penetrated sharply. She worked as a security guard at a Brooklyn hospital. She was mildly sick in early March. Her otherwise healthy husband, who was in his early 60s, came down with a dry cough that week. She told him to seek medical care, but he said he felt fine. The next morning, he was dead.
She called EMS, but he wasn't taken to the hospital because he had been dead for hours. Instead, she arranged for his body to be taken to a funeral home. She got rid of the bed. She quarantined for two weeks and saw family from a distance when they dropped off food. She didn't go back to work immediately after quarantine because when she tried, she had a severe panic attack.
Her voice stayed even, reciting the story like she had told it many times. I was shaken, but I wrote the letter, refilled her medications and scheduled a follow-up telemedicine appointment. I also asked if she wanted grief counseling.
"You know what?" Diana replied, voice still unwavering, "I just might take you up on that. I've never experienced anything like this before: waking up to someone dead."
Stunned and amused at the understatement, I involuntarily smiled to myself. That small bit of emotion cracked my composure; tears welled up uncontrollably, sobs built in my throat. I ordered a referral to mental health for her and excused myself from the call.
I was physically unable to see patients for a day and a half because I cried every time I tried to talk.
The virus is deadly. The effects of those deaths on all of us left behind will be devastating in a different way. Prepare. Don’t panic but don’t ignore it either. Ignoring a problem is a bad idea. If our government hadn’t ignored a problem, all the numbers I mentioned would be a lot lower.
Frank Sinatra gets poor service at Chevron
I heard about this case about four years ago and have been laughing at the closer for four years. The bit below is from Peter Gilstrap in the Washington Post.