I’ve been dealing with COVID this past week, which led me to miss the start of the fall semester.
My exposure came from a cancer patient who had just completed their second round of chemotherapy. They hadn’t been vaccinated recently due to their treatment.
This individual was exposed after Saturday evening mass at a Catholic church in Florida. Around them, many attendees were likely unvaccinated and certainly unmasked, unlike the cancer patient. A dementia patient, who also refused to wear a mask, was the link between the congregation and my father.
Currently, my dad is still recovering and is at about 90% of his normal self. It’s a slow process; he’s moving carefully and it takes him a while to think through things. He can’t be left unattended since his reaction time isn’t what it used to be.
As for me, I’m around 95% better now, though I still have some sinus congestion and gunk lingering in my chest. The ribs and throat still ache from all the coughing I did earlier this week.
What really troubles me is the trauma of checking my father’s pulse when he collapsed in our kitchen last week. I managed to revive him and get him moving so I could rush him from their isolated home to urgent care, which was over 30 minutes away.
Putting on a mask didn’t even cross my mind at that moment. I was too worried that something really severe was happening after his long fight with cancer. Plus, there was that torrential storm I had to drive through. I mistakenly thought he had gotten over COVID and wasn’t contagious, as he hadn’t shown a fever or cough.
So, for 30 minutes, we were in my car, sharing the close quarters of his COVID-infected breaths. I’d do it all over again if needed, but really, I shouldn’t have had to.
The impact of the anti-vaccine movement since the COVID pandemic has already caused so much damage; I can’t help but think we shouldn’t have to endure any more.
Then there’s the recent turmoil at the Centers for Disease Control (CDC), which you might have read about. The government’s internal conflicts led to the dismissal of director Susan Monarez, a decision that resulted in several senior CDC officials resigning in protest. The list includes:
- Demetre Daskalakis, formerly the director of the National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases
- Debra Houry, former chief medical officer
- Daniel Jernigan, former head of the National Center for Emerging and Zoonotic Infectious Diseases
- Jennifer Layden, formerly in charge of public health data, science, and technology
All of these individuals have substantial backgrounds in medicine and public health. They shouldn’t have had to compromise their values for the sake of public health.
None of them deserved the shabby treatment they received under RFK Jr.’s management. It’s not an exaggeration to say it’s been disastrous. I highly recommend tuning into a podcast interview with Daskalakis to get a clearer picture of the situation.
One striking moment in the podcast was when Daskalakis mentioned realizing major changes were being made in vaccine schedules through social media. He was caught off guard, receiving messages from colleagues while discussing outbreaks; they were surprised by the changes because there was no communication from HHS.
It’s disheartening that experts weren’t consulted or allowed to offer their insights on critical public health decisions. That kind of disconnect is alarming. If science is influenced by non-scientific factors, how can we trust it?
Honestly, I believe that CDC science is at risk of being skewed under HHS leadership. If it becomes tainted, I certainly wouldn’t want to be associated with that science when lives depend on sound decisions.
This doesn’t just impact a few. Our healthcare has become seriously compromised. First responders and healthcare workers might not even receive the vaccinations they need. A recent comment from an ER doctor highlights these concerns, expressing frustrations about the situation.
This is incredibly frustrating.
RFK Jr., who lacks proper healthcare training, is pushing a narrative that restricts vaccinations for frontline workers based on unnecessary criteria. And, to clarify, due to my autoimmune issues, I still won’t be eligible for another COVID shot until I’m 65, even though I struggle with lung capacity.
This approach could lead to significant disaster. Rural hospitals, already facing financial challenges, alongside all others, may be at risk if their staff cannot be vaccinated during a new COVID wave.
If my dad were to experience another health crisis like before, could I be confident that medical personnel would be available to help him? Or would the system be overloaded, leaving him neglected in a queue for care?
And, this hits everyone. How can anyone in the U.S. feel secure in the healthcare system if RFK Jr. continues dismantling it without solid data, professional backing, or congressional oversight?
On a personal note, I found myself contemplating my father’s DNR status while trying to revive him.
I believe my parents have indicated they want DNR treatment under certain circumstances. But what should I have done if he had collapsed at home? Should I have let him stay there while ensuring he was comfortable?
I certainly didn’t act that way in the moment.
However, here I am, wondering if RFK Jr. is inadvertently leading a larger part of society to an unspoken DNR status, forcing many into a situation where we might no longer expect proper resuscitation.
If systemic failure occurs as a result of his anti-healthcare stance, doesn’t that mean he’s ensuring lives can’t be saved when they need it most?
How does this differ from a hostile foreign takeover?
