A year ago today, the pandemic was recognised as official.
A year later, 117m infections and 2.6m deaths later, the world is still fighting the most devastating pandemic in recent history.
How did we let this happen? How did the world just sit idly by, when on 30 January it was clear that Novel Coronavirus was a Public Health Emergency of Global Concern?
This evening, a dear friend called me from the hospital. He was admitted a few days earlier, the second time in two weeks, as he caught it. Most likely one of the more serious variants, as it has affected his ability to breathe and also affected his heart. The fluid is collecting in the heart, he told me. He could barely utter a sentence without breaking into bouts of coughing. He needed to have an oxygenation tube as his lungs could not suck in enough oxygen, and that was proving dangerous.
Like so many millions before him, he was rushed to hopsital around two weeks ago. Luckily, he had a bed. But one of just a handful, he was told. What happens if there are no beds...? Lingering fever, aches, loss of smell, loss of appetite, and difficulty breathing. He tried to smile, look strong, but through the video chat I could tell he was in a lot of pain.
It dawned on me, more than ever before. this is real. This is serious. This could be deadly.
I knew of it. I have read about it. I have seen videos, read accounts, but never so close to this pandemic before tonight, when my friend called me from the hospital room. He told me how he wants to get better, and how he wants to go home to see and be with his parents (like me, he's an immigrant, and far from his parents).
He said he's feeling better, but the doctors do not know when he can be discharged yet. We laughed and joked a bit, but I was stuck for words. I reassured him that I am working on something that we promised to collaborate on together (but, due to the pandemic, I have dragged my feet on actually beginning...). I did really begin the long process of co-authoring this book, and I really want to let him know that because I want him to have something to look forward to.
Could things take a turn for the worse? Why do I feel, at the back of my mind, this nagging dread that there is something sinister? I know he has a series of underlying conditions and that he's always had a weaker immune system. Perhaps that knowledge makes me dread what this coronavirus infecftion could do to him...
We talked about politics, our go-to conversation, about China, our common worry and to an extent hatred for the Chinese government. It really is unbelievable that this was unleashed on the world, and that much of the severity was covered up deliberately at very beginnings in Jan 2020. When six weeks later, the pandemic became official, already thousands have died, at least according to official figures. Due to China's intransparency, the world would perhaps never know the real figure.
We spoke for around 10 minutes or so. He was struggling, really struggling, and I told him a few times he should rest and not strain himself. He said that he misses me a lot, and that he loves me (something that occurs naturally to him, but to me felt a bit uncomfortable as I've not grown up with that word...). Did he say that because he feels it may be grim and that he's worried?
I have seen so many in hospitals, I have lost many in hospitals... That image of him plugged to a machine, breathing with the aid of a tube under his nose. It's painful to see. It brings back memories.
We finished the video call, and I closed my eyes temporarily.
It's been some time I have not felt so heavy.
This past year, all those figures, all those images, all those deaths and infections are just images and figures on a screen. But this was/this is real.
As real as life could be.
