My greatest fear is the death of my loved ones. It's a macabre, irrational worry that has dogged me since childhood. Perhaps it's a symptom of being an only child… I've always been terrified of my parents dying. I still am. And now, I stalk my fiancee's flights onlinewhen she travels for work, breathing a sigh of relief when I see that she's landed safely.
Over the last few weeks I've had horrible daydreams about my nearest and dearest succumbing to Covid-19. They've made me fearful and anxious. I don't want anyone I love to die of the virus. I don't want anyone to die of Covid-19, full stop.
Tragically, of course, people will (and are). Hopefully, New Zealand will avoid the worst ravages of the disease. With our cases trending downwards, we seem set to soon be safe in the middle of our Tasman-Pacific moat. But while I'm grateful that the extreme measures we've taken to control Covid-19 seem to be reducing infections and thus deaths – and preserving our health system – I have some niggling questions.
These questions likely won't be popular. Asking them forces us to probe the decisions made during a time of great stress, when reporting from around the world has alarmed even those in countries with the strongest health systems. In a time when our civil liberties have been taken away, however, it's more important than ever to ask tough questions.
Why, for example, are the numbers of deaths globally related to Covid-19 not being separated into numbers of those whose deaths were caused by the disease, rather than those who simply died with a positive Covid-19 diagnosis? Terminal cancer patients, heart attack victims, and those who die from other conditions but with a confirmed or suspected Covid-19 diagnosis are being counted as Covid -19 deaths, when they didn't actually die because of the virus. This misrepresentation likely means that the number of deaths being attributed to the disease is incorrect.
How many people with the virus are either asymptomatic or have symptoms too mild to present for testing? If an estimated 80 per cent of confirmed Covid-19 cases develop only mild symptoms, then it seems logical to assume that especially in countries where testing is self-selecting (people reporting voluntarily for testing) or otherwise limited, the true infection rates are likely much higher than those reported. Consequently, mortality percentages calculated without taking into account the number of cases that went untested and recovered without medical intervention should be questioned.
We seem to forget that an estimated 24 per cent of the world's population was infected with Swine Flu, and between 151,700-575,400 people died. Here in New Zealand, 1122 people were hospitalised and 49 people died. During the peak week of hospitalisations (July 6-12, 2009), 278 people were hospitalised. More than 3500 New Zealanders were infected. I was one of them. It was the worst illness I've ever experienced, and I spent six weeks bedridden, recovering. Why didn't we lock the country down then?
How many people who die of Covid-19 would've likely died during this year's influenza and pneumonia season? It is a terribly sad fact that hundreds of thousands of vulnerable people die every year from the seasonal flu. In New Zealand, it is estimated that 400-500 people die each year as a result of the flu.
All of those deaths are tragic. They're also largely inevitable. According to University of Cambridge Professor Sir David Spiegelhalter, nearly 10 per cent of those aged over 80 will die in the next year without the threat of Covid-19. The professor told the BBC that the risk level of them dying if infected with the disease is nearly the same as it would be if they weren't infected. "Many people who die of Covid would have died anyway within a short period," he said. Imperial College professor Neil Ferguson suggested that the overlap of Covid-19 victims and those who would've died within the year regardless could be as high as two-thirds.
Why are important medical procedures being postponed when we have so few Covid-19 patients in our hospitals? A friend of mine was due to get a suspicious lump biopsied last week. Her procedure has been postponed. Another friend found herself hospitalised due to a chronic condition recently and reported that the hospital seemed nearly empty. Smear tests are being postponed, mammograms, bowel and prostate screenings. How many cancers are going undetected while hospitals prepare for the hordes of patients who haven't arrived yet and may never come?
I have no doubt that this lockdown has prevented deaths, but I wonder whether it has caused them too. Delays in medical screenings are just one potential danger. The other that looms large is the surge in mental distress that accompanies isolation and economic downturn. People have already lost their jobs. Some will lose their savings and homes. When some people hear the word "economy" they seem to think of evil corporates. The truth is that damage to the economy means damage to people and families. Having a job, financial security and the ability to connect with support networks are all protective factors that can prevent depression. Without those things, mental health can quickly go south.
I'm saying all this as a bleeding heart lefty. I don't say it to be callous. We absolutely must do what we can to protect our most vulnerable. As an asthmatic, I voluntarily stayed home as much as humanly possible in the three weeks leading up to lockdown. Our elderly, our sick and our people living with disabilities must be given extra protection (and income support), but now that our numbers are going down, how do we balance their needs with those losing their jobs, homes and mental health? Those whose cancer diagnoses are being delayed? They are vulnerable too, just in a different way.
I certainly don't envy our leaders the decisions they have to make, but that doesn't mean that we shouldn't question them. Lives hang in the balance – threatened both by Covid-19 and a devastated economy. Frankly, both threats are terrifying.
