Things I Don't Understand: people who value health labour but don't value COVID protections

I blogged before about the labour of health.

Some people value health labour. They value doing it themselves, and/or they value being seen to do it, and/or they believe other people should do it.

A baffling phenomenon I've observed is people who value health labour, but don't value (and sometimes outright object to) COVID protections!

I grew up surrounded by people who value health labour (that's why I'm inclined to push back against it myself), so I'm familiar with many different motivations for valuing, engaging in or advocating for health labour. And COVID protections align with every single one of the motivations I can think of.

Some people value and engage in health labour because they themselves want to be healthy. They want to live longer, or have quality of life for longer, or simply avoid the unpleasantness and inconvenience of poor health. And COVID protections help achieve all this.

Some people value and engage in health labour because they believe sufficient diligence will save them from distressing outcomes. And COVID protections are a form of diligence that reduces the likelihood of distressing outcomes.

 

Some people value, engage in, and advocate for health labour because they believe people have the responsibility to their fellow taxpayers to reduce the healthcare they need and therefore the healthcare costs they incur. And COVID protections will reduce the amount of healthcare people need and the healthcare costs people incur. 

Some people value and engage in health labour because they want to be seen to be A Healthy Person, walking around with a yoga mat and instagramming their smoothies. And this can also be done with COVID protections, walking around in an N95 and instagramming your efforts to build a Corsi-Rosenthal box.

Some people engage in or advocate for health labour out of a sense of smug superiority. Doing this labour makes them feel like they're better than other people who aren't doing it, or calling out other people's failure to do this labour lets them position those people as Less Than. And many COVID protections are also things you can do, or call out other people for not doing, for both your individual health and for general public health.

 

Some people value, engage in and advocate for health labour because they value individualism and personal responsibility. They value making personal efforts to take care of yourself and your loved ones without any expectation that the systems and structure of society will do so. And individual COVID protections like masking and vaxxing and providing good indoor air quality everywhere you can align with this. It really seems like the people who vociferously tout individualism in other aspects of health labour should be the ones lugging a Corsi-Rosenthal box everywhere they go!

Some people advocate for health labour because they're profiting from it. They sell nutritional supplements and fitness programs and such. And this can also be done with COVID protections, selling masks and air purifiers. You could get an additional revenue stream while also keeping your clients healthy enough to continue working and earning enough to keep buying your regular products!

I've heard some people say that this comes from a place of eugenics - people thinking that you'll only be affected by COVID if you have inferior genetics, and having superior genetics means you'll be safe from COVID. 

What I don't get about that is why people who believe in eugenics would also value health labour so much. (I'm aware of the historical precedent, but I don't understand it.) If your genes were so superior, why would you need health labour at all? Surely superior genetics wouldn't need carefully balanced fitness and nutrition, and instead could handle whatever the natural course of modern life throws at them!

There are all kinds of reasons why people are into health labour, and they all align with prioritizing COVID protection. And yet, a surprising number of people who are into health labour seem to be disregarding, or even disdaining, COVID protection. 

I just don't understand.

Why I'm more worried about COVID now than I was in 2020

Sometimes I hear people say they're less worried about COVID than they were in previous years. That surprises me, because I'm more worried.

Here's why:

1. I now know more about Long COVID, in particular its potential cognitive effects. In 2020 and 2021, my biggest COVID-related fear was spreading it asymptomatically and inadvertently infecting someone more vulnerable than I am. Now my biggest fear is expediting my dementia.

2. I now know that reinfection is possible. And each reinfection increases the risk of Long COVID. In 2020 and 2021, I figured if I caught it, I'd be in for a couple of weeks of misery and then either die or get on with life. Now I know that it's a perpetual risk.

 

3. With the removal of the required isolation period, the likelihood of any random person being contagious has increased. Unlike 2020 and 2021, people are now far more likely to be incentivized to work while contagious, thereby increasing the risk of contracting COVID in any random interaction or contact.

 

4. With the removal of mask mandates, these contagious people who are out and about are far more likely to be unmasked.

 

5. I now know that COVID is aerosols, not droplets, which means that the virus exhaled by these unmasked contagious people who are out and about can linger in the air for long after they have left the room. I now know that I have no way to tell whether a space is safe. 

 

6. Hospitals are under more pressure now. We didn't have ERs and ICUs closing in 2020 or 2021! We didn't have 41-hour ER wait times in 2020 or 2021! This puts everyone at risk in ways that go far beyond contracting COVID - what if you get hit by a car? What if your appendix bursts?

 

7. There's no more feeling that those in power want us to be safe, or even want society to continue functioning. There's no more "All in this together", there's no more "We'll get through this". Which is even more disheartening when we know what to do, we just have to do it! 

 

8. Given the uncontrolled spread and potential for reinfection and increased risk of Long COVID and its potential cognitive effects - and given the dearth of treatments and supports for people with Long COVID - I fear a world where people with brain fog are driving trucks and performing surgery and important things like that. 

 

9. 90% of the people I love in the world are high risk. 90% of the people I love in the world have already had COVID at least once. There is significant overlap between the two groups. Not everyone got through it okay. I fear being the last one standing. Maybe with dementia myself, and no one left who cares about me. 

 

10. In 2020, we hardly knew anything, but we took a bunch of measures. It felt like things could only improve as we learned more. Now we know way more, and we aren't doing any of it. A world where we haven't figured out how to solve the problem is nowhere near as scary as a world where we have figured out how to solve the problem, but refuse to do so.

Things that are getting worse

A strong narrative early in the pandemic was also if we do the right things, we'll be okay. Mask up, stay home, be kind, we'll get through this.

 

I've been noticing lately that this element of reassuring people it will be okay is gone from the narrative. They're removing protections, but there's no "It's okay now" to it.

 

I fully realize there was a propaganda element to the messaging that everything will be fine, but now it isn't even an element of propaganda. There seems to be no more interest by those in power in having people think we'll be okay. Early in the pandemic, much of my translation work was morale-related. I haven't seen any attempt to boost or maintain morale in a very long time.

***

A similarly strong narrative when I was growing up was the idea that if you do what you're supposed to, things will turn out well. Go to school, get good grades, get a good job, you'll be able to support yourself and build a better life for your family. 

 

I'm not seeing this narrative around lately. I've even seen some voices acting like it's unreasonable to expect to be able to raise a family or even support oneself on a given job. Those in power complain that no one wants to work, while disavowing the employer's end of the bargain.

Again, I know there's an element of propaganda to the messaging that if you work hard you'll be successful. I know from Thomas Piketty that the economic success this messaging promises is specific to a brief period in the mid-20th century. But, again, it's telling that they aren't even attempting this messaging any more, aren't even hinting that there might be something better or different. It's just "Work or you're Bad and Wrong."

***

Another mid-20th-century narrative, often used in WWII, was the notion of sacrificing for the greater good. I keep thinking about this, thinking about how they used a sort of WWII narrative early in the pandemic, and how that contrasts with the current state of removing protections and asking people (especially school children!) to sacrifice for . . . nothing. 

 

Nothing is gained by allowing COVID to rip through society. It doesn't make anything better for anyone. Some people say that they're doing this for the economy, but it doesn't help the economy to have millions ill or disabled (or dead). They're actively removing protective measures that actually help the greater good, and instead making people sacrifice for nothing.

***

As a second-generation Canadian, the very premise of the origin story I was raised with was a better life for one's children. My grandparents' jobs were worse, my parents jobs were better. My grandparents' houses were smaller and older, my parents' house was bigger and newer.

But that dream stopped with my parents' generation. I've never been able to afford a house like my parents', even out in the small town where we lived. I was, for a brief period of time, able to afford a house like my grandparents', but in today's market I no longer can.

In fact, in today's market, I could no longer afford my actual condo that I actually live in if I didn't already own it. My salary is 25% higher than it was when I bought my condo preconstruction 10 years ago, but the prices of condos in my building have nearly doubled in the same period of time.

I was looking at a Twitter thread about this - people who can no longer afford to live in places where they previously lived, even though they now make more money. And there were some comments - which, as far as I can tell, were from regular people, not, like, real estate speculators - to the effect of "Welcome to real life, suck it up and get roommates."

So not only is a better life for one's children implausible, but a not-constantly-getting-worse life for oneself is so implausible that there are regular people who think it's unreasonable to be able to afford the same home you lived in when you were making less money.

***

Years ago, after I missed an unprecedented and never-since-repeated Eddie Izzard work in progress show here in Toronto, I set up a Google Alert for Eddie Izzard. I deliberately have it set to "all results" rather than "best results", which means the signal to noise ratio is not so good - it includes casual passing mentions of Eddie, not just items about her. (This blog post will probably show up in it.) But it only takes a second to scroll through in my feed reader, and I now don't have to worry about missing anything.

Recently, there has been a massive surge in transphobia in this Google Alert feed. When I started out, it often went months without any transphobia whatsoever. Now I'm seeing transphobia almost every day. Same transgender public figure, same wide-scope Google Alert, but tons more transphobia than a decade ago.

In 2010, advice columnist Dan Savage started the It Gets Better Project, with the goal of preventing suicide in queer youth by talking to them about how life will improve in adulthood. I agree with his thesis and it aligns with my experience (I can walk down the street and people ignore me!), but it also seems like it isn't happening any more, at least not on a societal/longitudinal level. Discourse is reaching me where queerness is being equated with pedophilia, which is not something I've heard since the 20th century.

This kind of thing should be an appalling horror story of the olden days that Kids Today cannot fathom, not an actual thing that's actually happening in reality!

 

***

There's a conventional wisdom that people's mental health is worsening. Some people are quick to blame remote work or online school, as though proximity to random people without regard for compatibility is some kind of mental health panacea.

But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if the root of worsening mental health is that so many things are getting worse that the idea of things getting better has become so implausible that it isn't even part of propaganda.

The Boy Who Cried "No Wolf!"

I was talking to my doctor about the risk assessment of getting dental care (given that I'd need to remove my mask to do so), and he said that the hygiene and air quality standards for dental offices are actually high enough that it would be a safe environment to be unmasked in.

My immediate, visceral reaction was a shockingly strong "That can't possibly be true!!!"

I had in fact looked up the standards for dental offices and they did seem to have plenty of air changes, I looked up the specs of the hepafilter system the clinic I was considering going to had installed and didn't even know that level of air changes was possible, my doctor is better positioned than I am to determine what ventilation measures are sufficient . . . so why do I feel so strongly that it cannot possibly be safe?

After thinking this over a bit, I realized it's because there have been so many instances where they removed protections when it wasn't safe to do so (including, most recently, when they removed mask mandates and 90% of the people I love in the world promptly contracted COVID) that we have a critical mass of cumulative empirical evidence that "meets requirements" ≠ "safe".

It's like the opposite of Aesop's fable of the Boy Who Cried Wolf. 

 

In the fable, a boy repeatedly comes running into his village shouting that there's a wolf when there's really no wolf. Then, eventually, a wolf does come, and no one believes him.

What's happening here in Ontario is they're repeatedly telling us it's safe when it's clearly not. And if, one day, it ever is safe, I will have a very difficult time believing it.

 

 

The thing is, if everyone started doing absolutely everything absolutely perfectly in terms of COVID response, all indoor spaces would be like a dental office, with ventilation that makes it impossible for COVID to spread. And, unless something changes drastically, I don't see how I will ever be able to believe this and feel safe.

Now, you're thinking, if all environments become safe and make it impossible for COVID to spread, COVID numbers will drop! We'll see it in the data!

Except governments are publishing less and less data, even though the data is still necessary! We're left here squinting at the low-precision Y axis of the wastewater signal charts and trying to figure out how flaws in government-issued data might be affecting the results on various automated amateur data-viz websites. 

 

They never even restored PCR testing criteria to where they were pre-Omicron, so official R-value data is a big asterisk with "Currently, R(t) based on cases cannot be estimated accurately"

 

I think what they're trying to do is induce a feeling of "no news is good news!" in the public, but what's actually happening is they're creating a situation where promising numbers are increasingly implausible. Are case counts actually low, or is it just because of restrictions on PCR testing? Are active case numbers actually going down, or was there just not a data drop today?

***

I do realize this makes me sound like a conspiracy theorist, and that brings up something else:

It's super weird that the existing conspiracy theorists aren't thinking this way!

Long before COVID, there were plenty of conspiracy theorists who thought there was a vast government conspiracy to kill or harm people.

And, somehow, they seem to look at the current situation where the government is changing policies in a way that increases the number of people killed or infected, and . . . don't think this is part of the conspiracy?

 

 

I do see why someone might not believe there's a government conspiracy to harm us. Maybe, from where you're sitting, you don't see any evidence, and it is quite the claim to make without evidence! Maybe you find the idea just too frightening to contemplate! Maybe you look at the people who do think there's a government conspiracy to harm us and think "Those are unpleasant individuals and I don't want to be like them!"

But if you've come into the situation already believing that there's a conspiracy, how do you arrive at "But this current situation where people are being killed and harmed because of government inaction is, of course, unrelated to the government conspiracy to kill or harm people!"

My third COVID vaccine experience

They opened up boosters to my demographic on December 20. On December 17, some of the major pharmacy chains let people in my cohort start signing up for waiting lists, so I signed up for every waiting list within a feasible walking distance. In the days that followed, I'd start every morning by checking the internet for new availabilities and calling pharmacies that were offering the vaccine but didn't have an online presence. (I made so many of these calls that I stopped being nervous about them!!) 

 

I was able to get an appointment for March 2, but nothing earlier came available for weeks.

I was starting to question limiting myself to walking distance. On one hand, I was on 35 waitlists - surely that's enough?? On the other hand, the fact of the matter is they weren't coming through - maybe it was time to take the risk of taking transit to get boosted sooner rather than waiting longer for something to come up nearby?

Then, in the first week of January, I got an email from my doctor's office (which had never emailed me in my life!) They were accepting vaccine appointments for later that week! So I called and was able to book an appointment for January 7.

My doctor's office limited the number of patients in the waiting room and had very aggressive ventilation going on. (I can't tell if if the ventilation was good enough, but there were fans and air purifiers and air blowing around everywhere. The doctor and the receptionist were both wearing gowns, two masks, and face shields. They rotated between 3 exam rooms, so each room had 45 minutes to air out between patients. 

I had to wait about 15 minutes before I was called because they were running a bit behind, but then got my shot (Moderna) quickly and was instructed to wait only 5 minutes afterwards. 

My symptoms were much milder with this dose than with previous doses. I slept normally and the injection site pain was mild enough that I didn't need Tylenol. My lymph nodes were inflamed for 48 hours, and then went back to normal.

 

My first period after the vaccine arrived 24 hours late, but other than that it was completely normal and I didn't notice any other symptoms.

Why were they willing to lock down in March 2020?

Currently, there seems to be a shortage of political will to lock down to stop the surging omicron variant of COVID-19.

What I don't understand: if they're unwilling to lock down now, why were they willing to lock down in March 2020?

Usually if you ask this, people answer "because capitalism doesn't care about people's lives."

But we had the same capitalism in March 2020. And in March 2020, lockdowns were unprecedented - I don't think most ordinary people would have faulted the government for not locking down, because that just . . . wasn't a thing that we did. And in March 2020, we didn't know about Long COVID yet. (Or, at least, ordinary non-medical people whose lives hadn't yet been affected by post-viral syndrome didn't.) And in March 2020, it was less commonly known that COVID is airborne. 

 

Even if we think about it solely from the point of view of capitalism without regard for human decency, in March 2020 we didn't have so many people out sick that it was causing staffing shortages, closing nearly half of library branches and cancelling GO Transit trips.

 

As far as the general public could tell, capitalism could have chugged merrily along in March 2020 without issue, whereas the impacts are visible and tangible and undeniable in the omicron era.

So why were they willing to proceed with lockdowns and restrictions in March 2020?

To be clear, I'm not saying that they were wrong to do lockdowns and restrictions in March 2020. Rather, I'm saying that the argument for lockdowns and restrictions is far more compelling right now, and we're all old hands at it now. We all know how to zoom and pivot to takeout-only and choose the optimal grocery pickup slots.

So why were they willing to take then-unprecedented measures in March 2020, but aren't willing to take well-established measures now?

My second COVID vaccine experience

My first vaccine was AstraZeneca, administered at a local Rexall. At the time, I was told to wait patiently and Rexall would contact me for my second vaccine.

However, the rules changed in the interim, so, when I was 8 weeks after my first dose, the current protocol was to find your own second dose.

I put myself on all the pharmacy waiting lists in my area, and tried the Ontario vaccine booking system (which is how you book Toronto Public Health clinics) several times a day. Unfortunately, the vaccine booking tool initially wasn't able to meet demand - I kept getting the walking man or error messages or no appointments available, and on the rare occasions when there was an appointment somewhere I could plausibly get to, the appointment would disappear by the time I clicked through.

Finally, after a week of vaccine-hunting (i.e. 9 weeks after my first shot), I was able to secure an appointment at the Toronto Public Health clinic in my neighbourhood (North Toronto Memorial Community Centre) for 11 weeks after my first shot.

There was a pop-up clinic for which I was eligible 2 days before my scheduled appointment (I didn't go because I'd rather attend a scheduled appointment just a couple of blocks from home than go all the way out to Dufferin to wait in line in the rain), but none of the pharmacies came through with an appointment before then.

***

I arrived at NTMCC at the appointment time, and was greeted by firefighters (I don't know why either) who offered me hand sanitizer, asked if I had an appointment (although didn't verify it), and instructed me to get out my health card. 

Then I walked into the building, and passed through a series of people who scanned my card and/or asked me screening questions. There was a long line (indoors, masked, social distancing stickers on the floor), but it was moving steadily.

 

They were offering Moderna to age 18+ and Pfizer to age 12-17. They made very clear at every point that I'd be getting Moderna that day. 

 

I passed through about six different checkpoints each doing different screening before I arrived at the table where I was injected with the actual vaccine. The needle went into my arm about 15 minute after my scheduled appointment time.

The nurse who issued a vaccination gave me a card indicating the time I was allowed to leave, then I was then sent to a recovery area to wait out my 15 minutes. It was a separate room with physically-distanced chairs for patients to sit in. There was an optional questionnaire about social determinants of health to fill out while we waited.

 

There was a large clock on the front wall of the room, and when the time indicated on the card the vaccinating nurse gives you has been reached, you can go to the desk at the front and check out. The vaccine receipt is issued when you check out (meaning if you sneak out early, you won't get proof of vaccination). I think they might also validate parking or something - they asked me if I'd parked in the underground garage, but since I'd walked I don't actually know where that line of inquiry was going.

 

I left the clinic 32 minutes after my appointment time, and 17 minutes after the needle went into my arm.

***

Various logistics:

- I had a specific scheduled appointment time, but I don't believe they ever confirmed my identity against the scheduled appointments. I was asked if I had an appointment, but I didn't perceive anything to be checking me against a list of names and appointment times. They did swipe my health card several times so it might have happened stealthily there.

 

- All the screening questions, and the injection itself, took place in open areas where you were visible to others and it was possible to be overheard by others. There was a sign saying that modesty areas are available upon request, but I didn't request one so I have no insight into how they worked.

- The proof of vaccination I received was printed on receipt paper, and doesn't seem very durable.

- Every single person I interacted with or witnessed was actively warm and welcoming and helpful, even though they were literally repeating the exact same interaction with hundreds of people over and over throughout the day. The nurse who gave me my injection was very patient with my enthusiastic chattering about the Euro cup final. (It was my neighbourhood's first collective sports experience since the Raptors won in 2019 and I got caught up in the emotion!) The staff in the recovery room were also very patient with the white lady ranting about how the (optional) questionnaire (where you could check as many boxes as you want and fill out an "other" blank at the end of every question) thought she was white when she Wasn't Really because There Are Different Parts of Europe. (Spoiler alert: she was even whiter than me and her ancestors have not spoken anything but English in living memory.)

***

After-effects and recovery:

About 3 hours after the vaccine, the injection site started hurting, way more than I expected.

I tossed and turned all night, maybe scraping together a total of 6 hours of sleep in 12 hours spent in bed. When I finally got out of bed (16 hours after the vaccine), my arm hurt so much I couldn't lift my arm enough to wash my hair. My temperature was 1 degree above my normal (37.2 on a thermometer that normally gives me a reading of 36.2).

I took a standard Tylenol (my doctor advised me to take Tylenol rather than my usual ibuprofen for vaccine symptoms, but also emphasized that this advice is not appropriate for all patients) and about half an hour later was able to lift my arm enough to shower. My lymph nodes became inflamed shortly afterwards, and I spent the whole day after my vaccine feeling a general malaise. It reminded me of when you have a nasty cold but take Dayquil or something - no specific symptoms, but a general feeling of under the weather.

I slept 12 straight hours the second night after the vaccine, and woke up on Day 3 with my armpit lymph nodes so inflamed that I could see them when I looked in the mirror. There was still some mild but appreciable pain in the injection site, but I had a full range of motion and full use of my arm.

I continued to be moodier than made sense under the circumstances for the next week or so, and my lymph nodes gradually shrank back to their normal size during that time. 

My period started right on schedule, 2 days after the vaccine, and was well within the range of normal.

 

The Rexall that administered my first vaccine contacted me 3 days after I received my second vaccine to book an appointment. I cancelled all the other waitlists as soon as I received the shot, so I don't know how well they did or did not work.

 

***

 

Overall, I preferred the experience of getting vaccinated in a pharmacy. I felt like I had more time and space to ask questions, and more thoughtful and personalized attention. (I likely could have asked questions at the mass vaccination clinic and I would have done so if my questions had been actionable, but I felt like I'd be delaying the whole process if I took the time to ask whether the vaccine would attack the spike proteins of other coronaviruses.) However, I do recognize that pharmacies would not be an efficient enough way to get the kind of vaccine rollout we need, so mass vaccination clinics are a key component of the vaccine strategy.

I found the side-effects of the Moderna less bothersome than the AstraZeneca. Even though the pain of the Moderna injection site temporarily limited my mobility, I found the alternating fever and chills that came with AstraZeneca more disruptive, and the heavy bloating that came in my subsequent PMS week more uncomfortable.

My COVID vaccine experience

I signed up for the Rexall and Shopper's Drug Mart vaccine waiting lists in early April, then signed up for the waiting lists every other local pharmacy offering the vaccine on April 20, when the province extended availability to age 40 and up.

On April 24, I received an email from Rexall offering me an appointment for AstraZeneca at the Yonge Eglinton Centre location, which is right across the street from me. There were appointments available during the next two days, so I booked an appointment for April 25.

The store was not crowded at all and there were no other customers in the pharmacy area when I arrived. The pharmacist was right there at the counter when I arrived. He checked my health card, then took me into a small consultation room beside the pharmacy counter. The room was small enough that I'm not sure whether or not we were six feet apart. The room had a door that closed, but the pharmacist didn't close it and I didn't ask him to. We were both wearing masks. I didn't ask the pharmacist if he was vaccinated himself, but pharmacists I know socially who are administering vaccinations are vaccinated themselves.

I had a lot of questions (about the vaccine, about what happens next, about the statistically-low but highly-mediatized risk of blood clots) and the pharmacist very patiently answered them on my intellectual level, using his own professional knowledge and insight rather than simply parroting talking points. 

One of the screening questions was whether I was allergic to polyethylene glycol and I'd never knowingly encountered it, so we had some discussion about where I might have encountered it before. The pharmacist's research aligned with mine, concluding that I've almost certainly encountered it somewhere but it's difficult to pinpoint where exactly. I asked the pharmacist about what would happen if I did have an allergic reaction (it would happen during the 15 minutes that I was supposed to sit and wait in the pharmacy and he was equipped to take care of me if it happened), so I made the informed decision to get the vaccine despite not knowing for certain that I wasn't allergic. The pharmacist did not pressure me either way.

The needle itself was unremarkable. There was a bit more blood than usual on the bandaid when I removed it the next morning, but it wasn't disproportionate. 

I sat in the waiting chair for 15 minutes, during which the couple after me in line had their vaccinations. I could hear their conversations with the pharmacist from my seat, the content of which was a subset of the content of my own conversation with the pharmacist. No one involved made any effort to close the door or otherwise give them privacy from me. We then had a bit of a socially distanced "YAY, we're vaccinated!" squee at each other, and I left when my 15 minutes were up with a hard-copy vaccine receipt in hand.

Rexall didn't automatically schedule me for a second dose appointment (they said they'd only be guessing at scheduling and availability given the 16-week dose interval and would likely have to reschedule anyway), but they said they'd email me with information about my second appointment closer to the time in question.

I went to bed 7 hours after receiving my vaccination, but didn't fall asleep right away. One hour later (i.e. 8 hours after my vaccination) I started shivering violently, to the extent that my hands were shaking as I tried to retrieve an extra blanket and drink a glass of water.

My body then started alternating between fever and chills, as though I was in a whirlpool tub where every individual jet randomly switched between producing water that's too hot and water that's too cold. 

I tossed and turned all night, sleeping no more than 6 hours over a total of 11 hours spent in bed. Then I got out of bed and had a slow, unproductive day, treating myself as though I had a flu while alternating between fever and chills. My temperature ranged from 35.1 to 38.1, on an oral thermometer that normally gives me a reading of 36.2.

About 20 hours after the vaccine, I tentatively felt like I might be improving. I went to bed and slept 12 hours that night, then woke up feeling very close to normal. My neck lymph nodes were very active in the second day post-vaccine, and my armpit lymph nodes were very active in the third day post-vaccine.

As I'm writing this, I'm 26 days post-vaccine, and have no signs of blood clots.

 

***

Because so many people have reported menstrual effects after their vaccine, I'm going to describe my first menstrual cycle after the vaccine in some degree of detail. If you're not here for that, skip to the next row of three asterisks.

I'm 40 years old and take birth control pills. My periods are like clockwork on the pill, so any change, however minor, is normally medically significant. When I'm not on the pill, my periods are heavy, debilitating and unpredictable.

I didn't menstruate in the immediate aftermath of my vaccine, but I'd just finished my regularly scheduled period so my uterus would have been empty. I did feel moodier than usual in the approximately 2 weeks that followed the vaccine in a way that's comparable PMS, and it's possible that my bowel movements were like those I'd experience during my period. 

In the days that led up to my next period, I was more bloated than I've ever been in my life. Even when I was hungry and my stomach was grumbling, my belly was visibly protruding and I had a feeling of fullness unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.

In the few days that led up to my period, my discharge had a reddish tinge. This wasn't the same as spotting; with spotting there are random bits of red or brown, whereas this was more like if a small amount of red had been evenly distributed in the white/clear discharge.

Also in the days leading up to my period, I experienced what might have been menstrual cramps in various places in my abdomen. It was difficult to tell whether the feeling was menstrual or digestive, but it's always been difficult for me to tell during unregulated periods whether what I'm feeling is menstrual or digestive. (This is exacerbated by the fact that I often do in fact have a bowel urgency during my period.)

On the Sunday of my period week (I'm on a Sunday start cycle) I started spotting. I started menstruating full-out on Monday. It was heavier, redder and chunkier than usual, although not so heavy I needed more pads. By the end of Monday, the bloating had mostly deflated. By Thursday, there was only a the tiniest bit of red on my pad and I could have even done without a pad. 

(Normally I start menstruating on Tuesday without any spotting in the days leading up, have steady flow on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, light flow in Friday, and only a few drops on Saturday).

This period was nowhere near as heavy and debilitating as my unregulated periods, but it was also the heaviest and most uncomfortable period I've ever had while being on the pill. 

I have no indication that I ovulated during this cycle, but I didn't learn about fertility awareness until well after I started on the pill, so I have no way of knowing if I can actually reliably detect ovulation.

***

After I got vaxxed, I removed myself from all the other vaccine waitlists except Shopper's, which didn't have the option. Shopper's sent me an email offering me an appointment on May 1, and then another on May 11. I didn't click through on either email so I can't tell you about their process, but the May 11 email contained a link to remove myself from the list, so I did.

On May 12, after the Ontario Minister of Health paused AstraZeneca, Rexall sent me an email telling me that I'm still on their list for a second dose, they're still looking at a 16-week dose interval, and they'd contact me with information about scheduling and about which vaccine I'll receive for my second dose once that information is available.

Things They Should Invent: filter online shopping products by weight

Latest pandemic malfunction: my 18-year-old TV finally gave up the ghost.

I bought a new TV easily enough, but it's a bit too big for my existing TV stand. So I'm shopping for some kind of TV stand or table or cart or something to put it on. 

Problem: the products that catch my eye keep being heavier than I can lift. 

Under normal circumstances this isn't so much of a problem. Normally, we can have furniture delivered. Normally, it's not a huge imposition to ask someone to pop by and help me move or assemble something. 

But during a global pandemic, this isn't an option. My building's pandemic rules prohibit delivery people from coming up to apartments, instead telling them to leave the deliveries at the concierge desk and residents will bring them up. My building's pandemic rules also prohibit visitors, and public health rules are also telling me not to have contact with other households. (Sometimes public health rules let single people bubble with another household, but there are zero people in my life whose risk factors permit visiting me and aren't already bubbled with another household.) So during the pandemic, I'm limited to what I can lift myself and assemble myself.

Online shopping sites could help me with this by letting me filter products by weight, so I only see those that are light enough for me to bring up to my apartment myself and assemble myself.

The websites already have this information - it tends to be listed right under dimensions.

The websites already let you filter by various variables, such as price and size. I can already tell the website "show me all the TVs under 35 inches", so why not "show me all the TV stands under 40 pounds"?

Building on this, they really should let you filter by any characteristic that is listed on the site. Country manufactured, inseam length, number of USB ports, anything. People have all kinds of oddly specific requirements, so, especially in this pandemic era where more shopping is being done online than ever before, why not let us pinpoint exactly what we need?

Things They Should Invent: one-way mirror webcam cover

A challenge with video chat is eye contact. We're inclined to either look at our interlocutor's eyes on screen, or to look at ourselves on screen. This means we aren't looking at the camera, and therefore appear shifty and weird to our interlocutors.

Proposed solution: a cover for the webcam made of a one-way mirror. In other words, the webcam can see you, but you see the mirror. If you make eye contact with yourself in the mirror, you're looking directly at the camera, so it looks to your interlocutor like you're making eye contact with them.

This would also make it easier to modulate your facial expression. I know that if I leave my facial expression unmonitored during a video chat, I tend to look like I'm sneering. (Really, my lips are just asymmetrical). But if I monitor my facial expression on the screen, I'm not looking at the camera and therefore look like I'm not paying attention. A mirror over the camera would make it easier to perform up to expectations.

Toronto needs to remove snow not just from sidewalks, but from the areas around sidewalks

I was particularly disappointed to see that the City of Toronto isn't extending sidewalk snow clearing to areas of the city that don't yet receive this service, because that's a giant step in exactly the wrong direction. In a pandemic year we need even more than sidewalk snow clearing. To maintain physical distancing, we need areas around the sidewalk, like curb lanes and boulevards and the edges of lawns, to be cleared as well.

Pedestrian physical distancing isn't just a question of two "lanes" that need to be six feet apart. Faster walkers also need to pass slower walkers. Some people are walking dogs or herding children. Some people insist on walking two or three abreast. Some people are carrying bulky grocery bags. People with wheelchairs or walkers or fragile ankles need to be able to avoid walking on the curb cut.

To physically distance through all these variables - especially on older residential streets with narrow sidewalks - we need to use not just the sidewalk, but also lawns and curb lanes. The sidewalk on my own street is just barely six feet wide, so I'm always stepping off the sidewalk onto the street, or onto a lawn or driveway, so I can stay six feet away from other people. I probably step off into a curb lane or onto a lawn about three to five times in a typical block of walking.

And in snowy weather, curb lanes and lawns aren't available because they're covered in snow. The curb lanes are full of snow plow windrows, and lawns are, at a minimum, unshovelled, and, more often, covered in snow banks from sidewalk snow clearing.

What the City of Toronto needs to do is clear not just sidewalks, but also curb lanes and at least 3 feet of lawns that are adjacent to narrow sidewalks. (Q: Won't that damage the lawns? A: The City can replant the lawns in the spring. Lives are more important than lawns.) They need to truck away windrows that end up in the curb lane, and go around making sure sewer grates are clear so gutters don't fill up with water.

In the Old City of Toronto - the portion of the amalgamated city where sidewalks aren't cleared - all these sidewalk-related needs and pandemic-related needs are exacerbated. There is higher population density, more people walking as a primary form of transportation, and more people who don't have cars. Older sidewalks tend to be narrower, buildings tend to be closer to the sidewalk, and the curb lane tends to be right next to the sidewalk (rather than there being a boulevard between the sidewalk and the curb lane). Grocery stores and other necessities are more likely to be within walking distance, so more people are carrying bulky packages and rolling bundle buggies. More streets have businesses with patios and lineups and those signs that they put out on the sidewalk. 

In short, there are more people trying to physically distance in less space as the second wave of COVID balloons around us. The City needs to help its residents stay safe by extending snow clearing not just to all sidewalks, but to the areas around the sidewalks.

Mask braindump: my struggles, what I've learned, and how some mask advocacy has been unhelpful

I have a lot of trouble wearing masks. I've learned some things that make it easier, and I've seen some people trying to promote mask-wearing in ways that are unhelpful and counterproductive.  So I thought I'd blog it all here for future reference.

I've already tweeted most of this as I was experiencing it, so if you follow me on Twitter there's nothing new here.

Caveats

1. I am not a medical professional. My explanation of any medical concepts is my own understanding and is not necessarily a perfectly accurate and comprehensive account of every medical consideration. I'm including it because my own understanding helps me figure out how to wear masks better and longer. 


2. Portions of this post describe ways that I misunderstood medical concepts en route to learning more. I'm including them because describing how I misunderstood things is important to understanding how some kinds of mask advocacy were unhelpful. If you read or excerpt only these portions, it's possible you might come away with incorrect information.


My mask-wearing experience

I'd never worn a mask before COVID-19 came along, but I'd never heard of anyone experiencing adverse effects from them either. So when I got my first cloth mask (thank you, Mommy!) I put it on expecting everything to go smoothly.

I was surprised to discover that my body was working harder than it should have been - I was breathing harder, and occasionally getting light-headed. There was even a time or two where I think my judgement was affected!

When the fabric of the mask touched my mouth, I started outright panicking, feeling that I was suffocating even though I knew I wasn't, but even when the mask didn't touch my mouth (and my mother tried multiple variations specifically designed to keep the fabric away from my mouth!) I was always in some degree of distress.

The mask usually becomes untenable after 40 minutes. My irreproducible personal best was one hour, but just the other day (even after I'd proven to my own satisfaction that I get enough oxygen as described below) I could only manage 15 minutes. It's unpredictable, and the unpredictability is an additional worry.

My original (erroneous) self-diagnosis

The problems occur when I wear a mask, in other words when my nose and mouth are covered. Oxygen gets in through our nose and mouth. If you don't get enough oxygen, you die. Falling unconscious is en route to dying. Feeling light-headed is en route to falling unconscious. Therefore, I concluded, I wasn't getting as much oxygen when I wore a mask, because the mask was blocking some of it.

Seemed like a perfectly logical extrapolation from available evidence, and I couldn't imagine any other explanation. 

My concern wasn't that I'd die from lack of oxygen. (I mean, I might, but then I'd be dead so I wouldn't have to worry about it.)  My concern was that I might faint from lack of oxygen. I've only fainted once in my adult life, and that resulted in my head injury, from which I've never fully recovered. I certainly can't risk it happening again!


The pulse ox selfie problem

As I was struggling with all this, a trend emerged of doctors posting selfies of themselves wearing a mask and a pulse oximeter showing a good, high oxygen level, with the general thesis that wearing a mask doesn't decrease your oxygen level, often suggesting or outright stating that if you think it does, you're ignorant or a liar or anti-science.

All of which is very annoying to have saturating your twitter feed when you've just come back from a grocery run of struggling to breathe in a mask!

From this, I saw several possible conclusions:

- If I went to a doctor with this mask breathing problem, I wouldn't be believed.
- Maybe my body works differently than their bodies, and therefore anything they have to say is inapplicable to me.
- Maybe people who struggle with masks simply don't make it through medical school, and then doctors forget they ever existed. 
- Maybe I have an unprecedented problem that medical science has never heard of, but mid-pandemic isn't a time to go down the diagnostic rabbithole that would entail.
- Obviously, from all these pulse oximeters, oxygen level was the crucial issue. I couldn't imagine any other issue, no one was talking about any other issue, so the cause of my problems must be low blood oxygen levels.

Low blood oxygen isn't the cause

All these pulse ox selfies gave me the idea that I might be able to use a pulse oximeter to detect when I was on the verge of fainting, or to convince myself that I wasn't going to faint.  I ran the idea by a friend with medical training, who told me it doesn't work that way - because your blood oxygen could be normal and you could still faint!

She went on to tell me that was what likely happening is I'm hyperventilating from anxiety at wearing the mask (shortly afterwards I learned this is called false suffocation alarm) which is lowering my blood pressure, which is making me light-headed. She also told me about counterpressure - clenching and tensing muscles to temporarily increase blood pressure and possibly prevent fainting.

So I tried counterpressure the next time I had an early glimmer of mask light-headedness, and the effect was immediate. About 80% of the light-headedness vanished instantly, and I could move about safely without fear of fainting.

This immediately proved two things to me:

1. The mask doesn't affect my oxygen levels - if it did, counterpressure wouldn't get immediate results.
2. The light-headedness, and therefore the risk of fainting, is real - if they weren't, the counterpressure wouldn't get results.

Improved, but not cured

Having effectively proven to myself that it isn't lack of oxygen that's making me light-headed, I soon became less uncomfortable in the mask. However, the false suffocation alarm persists, and my body still fights the mask. I counterpressure, my head usually clears, I move forward. If the counterpressure isn't immediately effective, I sit down, get my head down to heart level, regain equilibrium. I've gotten really good at doing this in a way that makes it look like I'm just examining the items on the bottom shelf, so people in the grocery store don't think I'm in distress and approach me.


I've had moments where I completely forgot I was wearing a mask and days where it took an hour for me to feel any symptoms, but I've also had moments where I feel like I'm suffocating even though I know I'm not and days where I feel symptoms after 15 minutes.

Disposable masks might be easier

As I was in the midst of writing this all up, I tried a disposable mask (sold in the grocery store, marked non-medical) for the first time, and found my body didn't panic in it.  I haven't figured out how to keep it from fogging up my glasses (the nose wire is less effective than in cloth masks), but I only rarely have to fight my body or get light-headed, which is a vast improvement! And even when I do have to fight my body, it's glaringly obvious to my brain that I can breathe, so I'm able to better psych myself out of panicking.

Which makes me realize - all the pulse ox selfies I saw were wearing (presumably medical) disposable masks. What if the thing they were insisting is easy is a completely different thing from the thing I was struggling with???


What mask advocates could have done better

The pulse ox selfies were intended to convince people to wear masks, but they were absolutely counter-productive in my case and, I'd imagine, for anyone else who is struggling with masks.


The emphasis on blood oxygen level led me to believe that blood oxygen is the only possible problem, thereby preventing me from finding my way to useful coping mechanisms. The strong "masks are easy and there's no difficulty at all" (or, at most, handwaving it with "masks can be uncomfortable", which is a word I'd apply to skinny jeans and the seats at Massey Hall - getting light-headed in the middle of crossing Yonge St. calls for a stronger adjective) sometimes made me think medical professionals wouldn't believe me and therefore couldn't help me, sometimes made me think I had to just push through my light-headedness (bad idea - the risk of fainting is real, even if the cause isn't low blood oxygen), and sometimes made me think I was experiencing some unprecedented medical problem.

What would have been far more useful would be talk about actual real-life problems that people sometimes have with masks, and how to actually address them in real life.

For example, the fact that I'm not experiencing low blood oxygen isn't relevant, the fact that I'm feeling light-headed is. So it would be useful for doctors advocating for mask usage to talk about how feeling light-headed is something that happens to some people, here's what it means, here's what to do, here's when to worry.

And do the same thing for any other issues people might have with wearing masks.

It would also have been far more useful to talk about different kinds of masks or mask-wearing options and how they address different issues. For example, I find disposable masks significantly easier. Maybe other people with other issues would find other kinds of masks easier.

"Masks are easy" harms your credibility in the eyes of people who struggle with masks, people who haven't tried masks yet themselves but know people who struggle with masks, and people who are afraid of masks. "Here's how to handle mask issues that may arise" is far more credible and useful, and will get more people wearing masks more often.

Things They Should Invent: grocery pickup edition

1. Mark items as "essential"

The first time I tried grocery pickup (in this case, PC Express at Loblaws), I was making the purchase because I had immediate need of a specific item.

In keeping with the pandemic mindset of minimizing trips and keeping two weeks of provision on hand, I didn't just buy that one item, I bought everything I expected to need for the next two weeks, regardless of whether it was on sale.

Then, shortly before pick-up time, I got an email saying that my order was ready - except they didn't have that one specific item in stock! There was no way to cancel the order at this point, so I had to put on my mask, wait in line, go into a store, talk to an employee, pay for a bunch of stuff that wasn't even on sale, lug it all home and wipe it all down - all for nothing!

Proposed solution: users should have the option of marking one or more items in their cart as "essential". If the essential item is unavailable, the order is cancelled. When the user marks more than one item as essential, they can either mark them as "ALL" or "ANY". If the essential items are marked "ALL", then the order only goes through if all the essential items are available. If they essential items are marked "ANY", the order goes through if any one of the items is available.

This should certainly be programmable - it's basically a set of IF/THEN statements - and it would certainly help during the pandemic when we're supposed to be minimizing trips and contacts.

2. "Your cart contains # bags of groceries"

Another problem with grocery pickup is that ordering groceries online is much easier than carrying those groceries home - I'd almost bought more than I can carry!

Solution: tell users how many bags of groceries their cart contains, measured in the standard grocery bags found at the checkout.

People who are accustomed to grocery shopping have a good sense of how many bags of groceries they can carry and how many will fit into their tote bag or bundle buggy or bike basket or car trunk or whatever they might be using, so this would make it easier to avoid over-ordering, and thereby finding yourself at the store faced with more groceries than you can get home in one trip.

The ideal implementation would calculate the number of bags in terms of both mass and volume, because both of those are factors in how much people can carry. But I'd imagine an immediate implementation would be possible based on mass alone. Grocery stores already have a database of the mass of all their products, since the self-checkouts have a built-in scale to make sure you're not stealing. Surely someone in human history has quantified how many grams/pounds/kilograms a grocery bag will carry, so it's a simple question of division.

The mystery of the disappearing desks

I blogged before about how people keep saying "things you have around the house" for things that I don't have around the house.

One thing I do have around the house is a desk. And, with the pandemic, I was surprised to learn just how many people don't have a desk.


My high-school graduation gift was a computer - a desktop computer, because that's what my father thought was most suitable. Laptop computers did exist in those days, but in the days before wifi you were tethered to a wall if you want to use the internet anyway, so desktops were a lot more common.

I set up my computer on my desk in my childhood bedroom, and subsequently on the desk in my dorm room and, being an internet addict, I spent most of my waking hours there, talking on the internet to other people who were also at their desktop computers tethered to the wall.

When I got my first apartment, I brought in my furniture from my childhood bedroom (my parents had the foresight to furnish our childhood bedrooms with regular grownup furniture rather than small/cutesy child-specific furniture). It was a small apartment, but my computer was still my top priority in my waking hours, so I set up my desk right in the living room, so I could continue my habit of spending time on the internet talking to other people also sitting at their desks.

Around this time I learned about ergonomics at work, so I applied the same principles to my desk at home. My set-up in student housing had been unergonomic and caused me a lot of neck pain, so I wanted something more sustainable for my adult life.

Then, when I got a laptop, I saw no reason not to continue with my comfy, ergonomized desk. I connected the laptop to my ergonomic peripherals, and kept right on spending my days at my desk, talking to people on the internet who, I had every reason to believe, were also at their desks.


Then, when the pandemic came along and everyone who can work from home started doing so, I was shocked to discover that the internet was full of people who . . . don't own a desk!!!  All these people whom I'd always pictured as being at their desks were suddenly setting up makeshift workstations at kitchen tables and on couches and in bed . . .

Where did all the desks go??


I do understand intellectually that you can internet on laptops and mobile devices, but I've always found working at a desk more comfortable and convenient.

I also understand that many people live in small homes - I do myself!  It's just my desk has always been so important to me that it's my second priority, after a bed.

So it's quite astonishing to me that it's such a low priority for so many people that "how to work from home when you don't have a desk" was a major topic of conversation in the early days of the pandemic!


But in addition to the question of "Why don't people have desks?" there's also the question of "What happened to the desks that people used to have?"

A lot of the "no desk, now what?" that's reaching me is coming from people who have been on the internet (in a personal capacity, not just for work or school) for at least as long as I have. Which means that, once upon a time, they almost certainly must have had a desk in their home - even if not a literal desk, then a designated table where a computer could be set up.

And now they don't.  They must have, at some point, gotten rid of the literal desk. Which is so bizarre to me - they looked at what I consider the second most important piece of furniture in a home, and thought "I don't anticipate ever needing to fulfill this function again."

Or what if they never had them in the first place? What if, for all these years, all these people on the internet I thought were sitting at their desks actually weren't?

That would be interesting to study - survey people who were caught out without a desk in the pandemic and ask them if they've ever owned a desk.


If you had asked me, back in the 90s when I was setting up my very own computer at my very own desk, to predict what will happen in the world in the year 2020, I would never have come up with "A lot fewer people own desks"!

O'Keeffe's Working Hands: a hand cream like any other

With all the extra pandemic handwashing, I needed to level up my hand cream game, so I decided to try O'Keeffe's Working Hands, which purports to be for dry, cracked hands resulting from manual labour.  Surely, I thought, a hand cream designed for working hands will be particularly magical on hands that normally do nothing more demanding than type, and are now being put to the test with a few extra washings a day.

Turned out, it's not particularly magical. It's no better on dry, cracked areas (or on eczema) than any other hand cream I've tried.

It's no worse than any other hand cream either, so if you feel like trying it, there's no reason not to try it.

Things They Should Invent: express elevators for the pandemic

Most people in my building seem to be voluntarily abiding by a one person/household per elevator rule. I do this myself. I live in the lower half of the building, so often when I'm waiting for an elevator to take me to to the ground floor, there will already be someone in it. I cheerfully wave them on, and wait for the next elevator.

However, not everyone in my building does this. Sometimes I'm taking the elevator down, it stops to pick up someone who has pressed the call button on one of the floors below me, and they get in. And there's not really much I can civilly do to stop them. (I mean, I could scream and argue, or do something gross like cough or something creepy like scratch my ass and smell my finger, but I have few options that allow me to retain what social capital I have.)

I also think, in some cases, the person waiting for the elevator might feel it's rude not to get into the elevator, as though you're suggesting that there's something wrong with the person in the elevator. (Imagine, for example, how declining to get in an elevator with someone else would have read before anyone had ever heard of the coronavirus.)

It would be useful if, for the duration of the pandemic, elevators could be put in express mode. You get in the elevator, press the button for your floor, and it goes straight to your floor without stopping. Then it goes and picks up the next person who has pressed a call button.

This would make elevator use during the pandemic as safe as possible without requiring optimal behaviour or any sort of effort from users. In my own experiences with skipping over occupied elevators and waiting for empty ones, I've never had to wait for more than three (and, about half the time, the first elevator that arrives is empty) so I don't think it would cause undue delays.

The challenge is I'm not sure whether it's technically possible without changes to how elevators work. The elevators I'm familiar with can be put in service mode with a key - you turn the key, the elevator goes your destination floor without stopping and then waits for you there. But if you don't turn the key back to the normal setting, the elevator will sit and wait for you rather than picking up the next passenger. And if you do turn the key back to the normal setting, it will go back to stopping wherever there's a call button pressed.

So I'm not sure if elevators can currently be programmed to take each passenger to their floor then go back for the next passenger without constant intervention. But if they can, they should be. And if they can't, elevator manufacturers should figure out how to introduce this functionality for the next time we need it.

Pandemic, scarcity, and frugality

One of fate's running jokes during this pandemic is that my stuff keeps breaking.

There's a sizeable rip in my winter coat that's nowhere near a seam.  A load-bearing seam in my running shoes got unsewn. A t-shirt seam ripped. One of my bed pillows tore (did you know that could even happen? I didn't know that could happen!) My kettle completely stopped working. A rung one one of my dining chairs popped out of place. My computer monitor occasionally flickers ominously, as does my TV set. My computer fan is perilously loud, even after cleaning and reseating. My sandals really need refurbishment. Both my desk and my ergonomic chair have stability issues. My ancient cell phone isn't holding charge for nearly as long as it used to. The light inside my microwave sometimes flickers for no apparent reason, and I can't figure out if this is a problem.

We're hearing a lot about scarcity of consumer goods on store shelves (in my experience, we're hearing a lot more than I'm actually seeing IRL), but all these problems I've been having highlight another type of scarcity: in-person help has become unavailable.

Apart from the t-shirt, the clothing repair tasks I described above exceed my skill. Normally, multiple people in my life and multiple businesses in my neighbourhood are able and willing to do this kind of sewing for me, but during the pandemic that isn't an option.

Even for the t-shirt repair, I didn't have the right shade of red thread, and wasn't able to actually go to a place that sells thread with the shirt to find the right shade.

For the chair repair, I lack either the strength or the dexterity. In any case, while YouTube is happy to tell me how to fix the problem, I can't make the pieces move the way they'd need to. Again, there are people IRL and businesses on the internet that would be happy to help me with this, and I can't rightfully ask any of them to come into my home.

I'm not sure whether I could carry a new computer monitor or a new TV set home from the store, and my building isn't allowing delivery people to come up to the apartments. The monitor - as well as the desk and chair - has to meet ergonomic requirements that can't be looked up online, so I have to try these things out and see if they work, or get them delivered with a particularly generous return policy.  And, of course, I couldn't move a whole desk by myself and I'm uncertain whether I can move my old TV

My computer is under warranty so normally if the fan proves to be a problem, I'd have an on-site technician come and fix it, which obviously isn't an option during the pandemic. But, at the same time, I don't want to void my warranty by attempting repairs that surpass my skill level. 

Ordering a cell phone online or buying one with curbside pickup isn't particularly difficult, but my older phone has an older SIM card, and I don't know if I can get a new SIM card during the pandemic.

My microwave is mounted over the stove, so I can't replace it myself, and I don't know if it's possible to buy a range microwave and just plug it into the wall in the interim, or if they have to be hard-wired.


In short, all these problems and potential problems are not because of supply chain issues or lack of money, it's because I'm not allowed to access other people's help.


I've internalized my origin story of my grandparents coming from war and deprivation and scarcity since before my memories even begin, so I've spent much of my life thinking about what it would be like to live in war and deprivation and scarcity.  And it never once occurred to me that scarcity would look like not being allowed to have someone sew something for me! Even on a battlefield or in a concentration camp, if needle and thread and a willing person with sewing skills are available, you're totally allowed to have them sew something for you.

I always thought scarcity would look like not having money or not having resources. But here I sit with money, thread, needles, multiple people in my own life able and willing to do the difficult sewing and multiple businesses in my immediate neighbourhood who would normally be quite happy to do it for a price that's well within my reach, but their skills are still not available to me. This was not on my catastrophizing mental list of worst-case scenarios.

***

There's also been a lot of rhetoric about how the various pandemic-related issues with acquiring material goods might actually be good for us, theorizing that it will teach people to "mend and make do" rather than automatically rush out and buy something new.


But I find myself in this situation of multiple malfunctions in the first place because of a lifetime's habit of mending and making do!

This isn't something I do out of frugality or virtue, it's simply because I hate shopping. If something I own still works, I keep using it. If I or someone near me can fix it, I fix it. If someone I know is getting rid of something I could use, I take it.

But as a result of this, many of my possessions are getting on in the years. Nearly everything I've had malfunction is over a decade old. Some are newer but not brand new (for example, the computer is three years old and the microwave is four years old), some are way older (the dining chairs might even be antiques by now - they're certainly older than me, and my grandparents owned them at once point).

If I had been in the habit of running around buying new things at the slightest provocation, all these malfunctions wouldn't have been a problem. I'd have more than one workable winter coat and more than one workable pair of running shoes. I'd have multiple workable old phones and more than the absolute minimum number of chairs I need.

But instead, I mended and made do, and never felt deprived for any of these things because I always figured I can just go out and buy a new thing when true need emerges.

And now, as true need appears to be emerging in the middle of a pandemic and I can't necessarily just go buy a new thing, I'm being lectured to mend and make do.

Top 10 petty things I hope come out of the pandemic

Many, many people who are smarter than me have commented on major policy and social changes that they hope come out of the pandemic - a robust system of sick days! Stronger income security! An end to just-in-time supply chains!

I'm going to let the smart people comment on those important things. Meanwhile, I have some less-important things that I hope come out of the pandemic:

1. Touch screens that can be operated with a stylus

Back in the Palm Pilot days, touch screens could be operated with a stylus or some other object. Since the iPhone came along, the trend on everything from self-checkouts to microwaves has been towards screens that require a human finger, which makes it harder to have a no-contact experience. Even if we don't take hygiene into account, screens that can be operated with either an object or a finger are more versatile than those that absolutely require a human finger. Hopefully we can get that versatility back.

2. Longer hair becoming popular

I find longer hair more attractive. Even when people wear their hair short, I prefer longer short hair. Frodo Baggins rather than Forrest Gump.  For purely superficial reasons, I would enjoy if this temporary haircut moratorium leads to longer hair becoming popular.  (Unfortunately, I think the opposite will ultimately happen as people rejoice in haircuts.)

3. Baggy pants coming back in fashion

Skinny jeans have been in style for over a decade. It's high time for loose-fitting pants to come back in style!  I'm hoping the combination of so many people staying home (and therefore likely wearing comfy pants) and so much bread being baked (which someone has to eat) will lead to societal intolerance of skinny jeans, and a move towards a roomier (and, on my figure, more flattering) silhouette.

4. Handwashing right inside the door

When I walk into my apartment, I know I need to wash my hands. But I also have to take my shoes off, which means touching the shoes with my dirty hands. (Yes, I know some people can remove their shoes without using their hands. I'm not one of them.) If I walk into the kitchen or the bathroom before removing my shoes, I'm tracking outdoor dirt (which might include germs) into the apartment. So far I've been addressing this by wiping down the parts of my shoes that I touch, but it would be convenient to have a sink for hand-washing right inside the door, so you can wash your hands right away, then remove your outerwear with clean hands. I hope home design evolves in this direction.


5. Touchless public washrooms

You know those useless public washroom taps where you need to hold the button down the entire time in order to make water come out? They need to be GONE! This pandemic should be the warning everyone needs to design public washrooms so they can be completely touchless, including opening the door on the way out of the washroom.


6. Homes designed for privacy from other household members

As someone who lives alone, I actually find my open-concept apartment convenient - I can keep watching the TV or the computer screen while I putter around in the kitchen! - but it is not the right design for a multi-person household. People - even people who love each other - need privacy from each other, and I suspect quarantine is driving his point home for many people. I hope home design evolves in a way that gives people visual, auditory and psychological privacy from the other members of their household.

Sometimes in advice column comments, I see people who think your romantic relationship is broken if you need privacy from each other, and/or think it's appalling and materialistic to plan your family and your housing so that each of your kids can have their own room. I'd be very happy if being quarantined with their household makes them change their mind on these questions, although I suspect it will instead make the other members of their household value their privacy even more.


7. Parent-neutral schooling

This is something I've been thinking about long before the pandemic but never got around to blogging about. Schooling seems to be evolving in a direction of requiring more and more parental involvement. For example, I often hear parents talking about their children's homework as though it is absolutely essential for parents to be involved in helping kids with their homework, and it is in no way reasonable to expect kids to be able to do their homework themselves based on what they learned in the classroom.

This creates a situation where students are put at a disadvantage if their parents, for whatever reason, don't meet the school's expectations.

Which is completely bass-ackwards. Schools should be mitigating any disadvantages or lack of advantages brought by parents, not exacerbating them.

The curriculum should be rethought so that students are not at any disadvantage if their parents do not contribute sufficiently. In fact, the curriculum should be even more drastically rethought so that parental contribution cannot put kids at an advantage - kids succeed on their own merits, regardless of what their parents bring to the table.

The switch to learning at home during the pandemic is exacerbating all these issues. Students whose parents aren't able to do what the school expects are at even more of a disadvantage. I'd like to see this result in a switch to a parent-neutral approach.  However, I fear that it might do the opposite - especially if we are pushed onto an austerity footing after the pandemic, schools might be pressured to say "the parents can help the students with this - after all, they did so during the pandemic!"


8. More lenient parenting

One pandemic problem is teens sneaking out to hang out with their friends, and therefore breaking quarantine and failing to comply with social distancing.

A contributing factor is that "don't hang out with your friends because global pandemic" is not terribly persuasive in a world where the grownups are always telling you not to hang out with your friends anyway - because they read a parenting article or because they heard your friend use a swear word or because there might be a boy there.

But this time it's different. This time it's really important. And I hope, when this is over, that parents remember that.


In recent years, is has become less and less socially acceptable to leave kids unsupervised, even in their own home. The age at which kids are allowed to be unsupervised seems to be significantly higher than the age at which they can actually handle it.

The pandemic rule is that only one person from each household is supposed to go grocery shopping, which is a problem in cases where there's only one adult in the household - especially since babysitters from outside the household are not an option.

In some cases, depending the kids' ages and personalities, the most reasonable thing to do is to leave the kid home alone while grocery shopping. I hope the pandemic makes that socially acceptable as well, and that it sticks.


Early into the pandemic, I saw a lot of stuff circulating about How To Quarantine Optimally - and, especially, The Optimal Quarantine Schedule For Your Kids - and I found myself thinking how much it would suck to have that imposed on you regardless of your own needs and temperament. I hope the challenges of quarantine make these parents see the folly of optimizing their kids and accept a more go-with-the-flow way of living, and that this happens without too much trauma for the kids.


9. Check real-time store inventory

When you're supposed to minimize trips into stores and have to wait in line to get into each store, it's a particular bother to discover that the item that was the underlying reason for your trip isn't available. If we could check real-time store inventory online, that would save all these failed trips, thereby reducing line-waiting time and contacts for everyone.

10. Normalize grey hair

I'm currently rocking my natural colour, greys and all, and I intend to turn 40 with my natural colour as a matter of principle, but the amount of visible grey is getting to the point where I don't feel my overall appearance is sufficient if I keep it natural. However, I have no desire to spend any more time in the hairdresser's chair.

Since so many people have gone so long without getting their hair coloured and skunk stripes abound, I hope greying naturally comes back in style. Unfortunately, I suspect this is another area where the opposite happens as people rejoice in finally getting their hair coloured.

Things They Should Invent: pandemic shopping edition

1. Glassdoor for the pandemic

With some jurisdictions permitting businesses to reopen, I wonder whether the employees of those businesses feel safe going back to work, or if they have no choice.

I do need to buy more things as the pandemic stretches on (so many things, ranging from my kettle to my mesh laundry bag, have broken somehow!), but if I have the option, I'd rather buy from somewhere that respects their employees' health and safety.

I'd very much like to have a single centralized website where workers post information about how well their employer actually is keeping them safe, so customers can make informed decisions about where to spend their money.

I mean, they could do this on Glassdoor too, but I haven't seen it yet for the businesses I've searched for.


2. Shopping search engine for boycotters

There's a lot in the news lately about how Amazon is making tons of money from the pandemic, but has horrible working conditions.

I've found that if I search the internet for a product description without having a specific brand or source in mind (for example, light cotton pyjamas or 4-cup coffee filters), I get results primarily from Amazon, and to a lesser extent from Walmart (which also has bad working conditions).  If I exclude Amazon from the results, I most often get wholesalers, retailers from other countries, and other such unsuitable sources.

This happens even when I use search engines other than Google. It's way harder than it should be to find an ethical place to buy things when you don't already know where to buy them!

As I've mentioned many times before for many other reasons, I'd very much like to have a single comprehensive search engine of all online shopping. But I'd also like to have it set up to help people boycott.

You could boycott a specific retailer by excluding them from your search, but it would be even more helpful to be able to boycott by cause. For example, search for light cotton pyjamas and exclude sources with bad working conditions.

"But what if they all have bad working conditions?"  Then you've done everything you can and don't have to knock yourself out looking for the ethical source that doesn't exist.

Of course, the complexity is that this would only work if they could index literally all retailers.

Things They Should Invent: tell everyone what information contact tracers need

In this pandemic, we're hearing a lot about contact tracing. We're hearing a lot about how it's a time-intensive and labour-intensive task.

We're hearing about the possibility of apps to help, but, in addition to the privacy issues, those also have a strong risk of false positives (e.g., people in different apartments in the same building) and false negatives (e.g., if one or more parties don't have a phone on their person with the app installed and GPS enabled that is turned on and has a signal at the moment of contact.) So a time-intensive and labour-intensive task still remains.

They could make this easier by telling the public exactly what information the contact tracers will need, so people can keep track if they choose to do so.

For example, with contact tracing in mind, I'm making all my purchases on the same credit card and using my loyalty cards on every transaction. This means that I can pull up my credit card account and tell you at a glance the last time I was in a particular store, and the store also has a record.

On days when I have to talk to the concierge, I make a note of which concierge was on duty and what day I talked to them, in case one of us is later found to have COVID.

But is this the information that contact tracers would need? Or is irrelevant? Is there other information they would need that it hasn't occurred to me to collect?  Should I be keeping track of who got in the elevator with me on which day? Should I be keeping track of what streets I walked down on which date and time?

I have no idea! I'm not trained in public health!

They might be able to make the task of contact tracing easier by circulating information about what the contact tracers would need to know.  Then anyone who is inclined to do so can keep their own records.

And, if public health ever calls you for contact tracing, you'll be able to give them a list of the specifics they're looking for, rather than having to go through a painstaking interview full of questions you didn't even know would be on the test.

This might also help reinforce in the public consciousness exactly what kinds of contacts we need to be avoiding. If we're told "Keep track of who gets in the elevator with you for contact tracing purposes", that reinforces the idea that getting in the elevator with someone outside your household is a potential for transmission (if it is in fact a potential for transmission - I don't actually know), and maybe more people will wait for the next elevator.