Tuesday — New Year's Eve — marks what many people view as the official anniversary of the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. It's the date that the Wuhan Municipal Health Organization in China announced that a small group of people who lived in the city had a "pneumonia" of unknown origins. A few days later, they admitted that 44 Chinese citizens had this bizarre "pneumonia," and a fourth of them were seriously ill.
That was back in December 2019. This new "pneumonia" would go on to kill over 7 million people, including about 1.14 million Americans, and disrupt the lives of almost every other human on the planet.
And here we are five years later...how crazy is that? In some ways, it feels like yesterday, like we're still in the midst of it, and in some ways, it feels like a lifetime ago, something you barely give a second thought. Personally, I remember hearing people talk about some "strange Chinese virus" in early 2020, but I didn't think much of it. None of these types of things ever materialized, at least not in my lifetime. In February, I got sick, and looking back, I wonder if that's what I had, if people were getting it much earlier than we originally realized. According to the CDC, the first laboratory-confirmed case in the United States occurred on January 20, 2020.
But I didn't have much time to think about it. At that point in my life, my father was recovering from open-heart surgery and sepsis that nearly killed him, and my mother was on dialysis and losing her mobility. I was stuck firmly in caregiver hell, if I may be blunt, and my biggest concern in life was scheduling. Between trips to the dialysis clinic three times a week and my dad's daily infusions and weekly doctor's visits, I was exhausted with virtually no help. And then there were the trips to the grocery store every other day to buy this and that for everyone's special dietary needs. I remember praying to God to please just make it so that I don't have to go to the grocery store for a little while. I did not expect Him to bring on a worldwide pandemic that would leave me relying heavily on Instacart.
I knew things were serious when I took my dad to an appointment with the cardiologist one day, and they took our temperature at the door and asked us 100 questions about whether we'd traveled outside the country. "It's going to get bad," the doctor told my dad during his exam, while I sat in the waiting room and watched an elderly woman beg the receptionist to sell her their hand sanitizer. Later, we found out that the first confirmed death from the virus in Georgia was a patient at the same hospital where my dad's doctor's office was located. A few days later, everything shut down, and the rest, as they say, is history.
It's sort of like September 11, I guess — we all have our "Where were you when the pandemic began?" stories.
Anyway, when I first decided to write this article, I was pretty angry. I was ready to call out the government for mishandling the pandemic. I was ready to name names of those who used it to abuse power. I was ready to go on about how many people lied and how we still don't know exactly why or how it happened (I know we all have theories or, at least, I do). And I was ready to rant and rave about those vaccines and the negative impact they've had on people, but once I started writing, I realized I'm just sad about all of it. This five year "anniversary" is a somber reminder of all that was lost.
I'm sad that a friend of mine lost her young son and the manager at my favorite restaurant died from the virus in those early days.
I'm sad that I met a lady in the Ft. Lauderdale airport, a healthy runner in her forties, who has to use a walker now and can barely stand because she got the vaccine.
I'm sad that a good friend lost his dream job that he'd worked for all his life when his company had to shut down and spent the last few years barely making ends meet.
I'm sad that another friend's nephew killed himself after he lost his wife and his business to the pandemic.
I'm sad that one of my best friends and her sister couldn't visit their mother in a nursing home for over a year and had to stand outside the window in the snow just to see her.
I'm sad that I still see elderly people all masked up in the stores because they're afraid.
I'm sad that my mom was too scared to go to the doctor and the hospital when she needed to because she didn't want to get sick and eventually lost her life prematurely. And I'm sad that she spent her final weeks alone because they wouldn't allow me in the hospital with her.
And I'm sad — and admittedly pretty mad —that it seems like no one will ever be held accountable for any of it. For what it's worth, which is not much, the World Health Organization released a statement commemorating the five-year "milestone" on Monday and asking China to be transparent and release its data for "moral and scientific" reasons.
As we mark this milestone, let’s take a moment to honour the lives changed and lost, recognize those who are suffering from COVID-19 and long COVID, express gratitude to the health workers who sacrificed so much to care for us, and commit to learning from COVID-19 to build a healthier tomorrow.
We continue to call on China to share data and access so we can understand the origins of COVID-19. This is a moral and scientific imperative. Without transparency, sharing, and cooperation among countries, the world cannot adequately prevent and prepare for future epidemics and pandemics.
I don't know about you, but I'm not holding my breath for China to do any such thing, and if no one is held responsible during the upcoming Donald Trump administration, I suspect no one ever will be.
In the meantime, all we can do is continue rebuilding our lives and hope like hell it never happens again. If it does, I imagine the response from the American people might look a little different this time, and it won't be pretty.
Whether it's something you remember from those early days in 2020 or a story about how it changed the trajectory of your life, I'd like to hear how the pandemic impacted you on a personal level. If you'd like to share, please do so in the comments.
