I like to think most people are aware of what’s going on in the world, and specifically our country, in regards to COVID-19. But I’ve recently been enlightened as to how everyone is not and, frankly, how some people simply do not give a fuck.
This week has been an eye-opening experience. I spent the past ten months living at home in a proverbial bubble, surrounded exclusively by family members and co-workers who largely understood the facts and implications of COVID-19. Returning to school this past weekend burst that bubble, causing a wave of naivety and egotism to crash over me.
I’ve long been confused by the metaphorical use of the word “drowning”, but I think I have a newfound understanding. No matter how hard you try to do the right thing, how much you try to share accurate and useful information, how much you try to figure out why things are the way that they are, how much you try to make an infinitesimal difference in the world — nothing gets any better.
Today, January 13, 2021, is exactly one year to the day of the first confirmed COVID-19 case outside of China. Here are some things I’ve heard recently from a few different places:
“It’s just the flu.”
“Millions of people die every year from the flu. This isn’t any different.”
Seriously? We’re still doing this shtick? I wish I had the strength to be more adamant and vocal in shutting down such dangerous ignorance.
Whoever needs to hear this — and I cannot believe some people still do: COVID-19 is not the flu.
There are so many people out there who hear statements like that and just accept them. They believe them and regurgitate them for months on end. No questions asked. No basic research. (I’m talking Google here, folks.) Nothing.
So I did some basic research. These are the estimated deaths caused by Influenza from 2010 through 2020, per the CDC.
| Year | Estimated Deaths from Influenza |
| 2010-2011 | 37,000 |
| 2011-2012 | 12,000 |
| 2012-2013 | 43,000 |
| 2013-2014 | 38,000 |
| 2014-2015 | 51,000 |
| 2015-2016 | 23,000 |
| 2016-2017 | 38,000 |
| 2017-2018 | 61,000 |
| 2018-2019 | 34,000 |
| 2019-2020 | 22,000 |
| Total | 359,000 |
In the past decade, there were just over 350,000 estimated deaths from the flu in the United States. Do you know how many Americans have died from COVID-19?
384,000. And counting. (That number rose from 377,000 from my first draft to my last, roughly three hours time.)
More people have died from COVID-19 in the past ten months than people who have died from the flu over the past decade combined. (For the “well, actually” crowd: yes, these are estimates. The actual numbers may fluctuate by a couple thousand in either direction. The point does not change.)
In fact, more Americans died from COVID-19 in just December of 2020 (upwards of 77,000) than Americans who died of the flu during any single year from 2010-2020. By a significant margin.
It’s unconscionable to me that this insane belief is still being perpetuated. Statements like those allow false narratives to spread and downplays the significance of the pandemic. This shit isn’t a Disney movie. We can’t just convince ourselves to stay positive and hope everything turns out fine. It’s okay to admit that life, in general, fucking sucks right now.
I’m having trouble finding the words to describe how this encounter, among others, makes me feel.
I’m frustrated. Because it’s been ten months of this hellscape and this is evidence that basically nothing has changed. Things are worse than ever.
I’m scared. Because there are so many people who live in constant fear while this deadly disease permeates unabated in every American’s daily life.
I’m irate. Because of the countless individuals who live their lives however they please without any regard or care for how their actions could affect the lives of other human beings.
I’m sad. Because this is the reality of our country. The attempted insurrection at the U.S. Capitol last week was further proof — we are not “better than this”.
“This” — rampant ignorance; relentless life in fear; ubiquitous selfishness and narcissism; and systemic white supremacy — is who we, the United States, are.
And it breaks my fucking heart.