We don't care anymore--but we should.
Towels are being thrown left and right--does COVID-19 really matter anymore? Also, who's monkeying around?
In the last six weeks, I have had more friends and family tell me about their experience with COVID-19 (SARS-CoV-2) than anytime in the previous two years. They had managed to avoid all previous waves, until the most recent surge in April and May of 2022. Fortunately, all did well, at least as far as we know. None required hospitalization. None died. Vaccines work.
And as I go out and about, I see few people, if any, wearing masks, despite advice from CDC and our state health department that masks are advised indoors in public spaces during periods of high transmission—which this certainly has been.
We are watching the pandemic, ever so slowly, come to an end. Not because transmission has stopped—it hasn’t—but because we just don’t care anymore. I can hear the Phil Collins drum solo kick in as I write these words.
“I don't care what you say
We never played by the same rules anyway
I won't be there anymore
Get out of my way
Let me by
I got better things to do with my time
I don't care anymore
I don't care anymore
I don't care anymore
I don't care anymore
Well, I don't care now what you say
'Cause every day I'm feeling fine with myself
And I don't care now what you say
Hey, I'll do alright by myself”
—Phil Collins
And you know what? That is how this is supposed to end. Most people won’t care. They got it and survived. One million dead Americans can only die once. Everyone else will just continue to circulate virus, step by step building societal immunity, at least for those who can mount an immune response.
Yet, I will continue to mask indoors, and avoid indoor dining—for the most part, for now. I do so, because I know there are enough people out there who cannot mount an immune response, and I don’t want to inadvertently infect them if I have an asymptomatic case. Patients continue to come to our hospitals, either admitted with COVID-19, or found to have it while admitted for something else.
I also do so because, as far as I know, I still haven’t caught COVID-19. While it might be a nothingburger of an illness when it happens, I don’t know if I will suffer from “Long Covid” with persistent symptoms, or have increased risk of developing diabetes. I’m holding out for a better vaccine in the fall, maybe more effective against recent variants. Otherwise, I would like to see a sustained (i.e. multi-month) decline in transmission before dropping my mask in indoor public settings.
The variants that are yet to come, whether home grown, or imported from overseas travelers (even more likely now that masks and pretravel viral testing isn’t required), won’t scare anyone until hospitalizations of critically ill patients start to increase in the previously infected or vaccinated. So far, even with the most recent surge, that hasn’t happened.
Quit Monkeying Around
In the meantime, a new virus of concern, Monkeypox, has entered the room.
Monkeypox is an orthopoxvirus, in the same family of viruses as smallpox, which was declared eradicated decades ago. Monkeypox should really be called “rodentpox”, as those animals are the natural host of this virus. But as it was first described in laboratory monkeys, it was dubbed Monkeypox.
Outbreaks have occurred from time to time, most recently in the US in 2003, but what makes this one different is that most cases have not been associated with animal exposure. Instead, the bulk of transmission is person-to-person, through intimate contact. Some cases are also related to exposure to bedding, and respiratory transmission has been suspected, but is not predominant.
In Minnesota, as of the time of this writing, we are still looking for our first case. I suspect it is out there, as yet unrecognized. The good news is that vaccines and treatments exist for this infection. Hopefully, with recognition, we can interrupt chains of transmission and shut it down.
Again, helpful and timely.