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| Here comes Omicron |
It is two years since COVID made its first known appearance in China, and something less than that since it showed up in Marin (March, 2020). As the graphic, above, suggests, it's been a bumpy ride, but more of a merry-go-round than a roller coaster in that we seem to be going in circles. Whatever the ride, the question we're all asking is When can I get off?
Like most, our goal as a family has been to avoid getting the disease. We have erred on the side of caution in what we choose to do and how (masked) we choose to do it. We have also tried faithfully to follow the advice, or commands, of our health officials, and certainly their recommendations vis a vis vaccines. In some respects, we have gone beyond what they required, adopting N95s early and participating in the reopened economy to only a very limited extent. This seemed safer, and has also helped us feel we were doing our part to slow the disease and avoid crushing the health care system.
But the virus is not the only thing that has evolved these past two years. Thanks to vaccinations, we are no longer immune-naive potential victims, so COVID isn't likely to make any of us terribly ill, and is almost certainly not going to kill us. It may linger--"long COVID"--but what are the chances of that happening, and how do they compare to, say, the chance of getting Lyme Disease or a life-changing injury from a car accident or other threats with which we have learned to live? Personally, we feel safe enough.
As for our social responsibilities, the vulnerable population, though still sizable here in the US, is much safer than they were, even if unable (or unwilling) to get the vaccine: ERs know how to handle this disease, anti-viral treatments now exist, and PPE is no longer in such short supply nor terribly expensive (in case you haven't heard, N95 masks can be aired out and reused for hundreds of hours). As for small children, COVID appears to pose little threat to them. Finally, where we live (though not necessarily where you do), the health system is far from being overwhelmed, and even has capacity for routine and non-mandatory treatments. We know a local ER doc. He is not stressed out.
So if we're not avoiding COVID for ourselves, for others who might get sick, or to avoid breaking the health care system, why are we still avoiding it? More precisely, why are we desperately more invested in avoiding it than we are in avoiding the annual flu (the shot for which I still haven't gotten around to getting this year)? To be clear, I don't want either disease, but I don't forswear my friends and favorite businesses because of the flu.
This puts things in a different light. We won't be changing our COVID rules much--eating in a restaurant still feels kind of gross, and if you're going to wear a mask it might as well be one that works--but we're definitely relaxing somewhat. I wouldn't say this wild ride has become fun, but at least it's less fearsome.
