Mending Broken Hearts

19. Delay

February 2020

Omar

February 28. Covid-19: lack of knowledge is driving public panic (British Medical Journal)

A lack of adequate knowledge is probably the driving force for the public panic, particularly at the early stages of an outbreak—highlighting the fact that information is crucial. Misunderstandings about the information that is available, even worse exaggerating such information, may further aggravate the panic. Unfortunately, these phenomena are not uncommon. To relieve the public panic, an effective approach would be timely publication of trustworthy research evidence in a manner appropriate for the public. 

Madi and I stood outside the main entrance of our hospital, discussing the article I had just read in BMJ and compared the deluge of text messages we had received from our concerned family members across the world.

'Hello beta, how are you. Have you heard of this cov 2 virus? I heard its really spreading. Anything we should worry about?' - text from Maimoona Khala, my mother's sister.

'Madiha beti kya haal hai? Yeh corona kya cheez hai?' (Madiha daughter, how are you? What is this corona thing?) - text from Naeem Tayaa, Madi's father's brother. 

'Yo dude! Still single? Do you have any inside info on covid? Me and the fam were planning a trip next month, do you think it's safe?' - text from my medical school friend, Rashid, who was a psychiatrist and knew I had a particular interest in respiratory viruses.

'Hi Madi. Long time no see! Just wanted to check-in and see how you were doing. High school seems like ages ago. Anyway, call me when you get a chance. Had a few questions about this new virus' - text from Madi's high school debate partner, Bridget, who she had not heard from in almost a decade.

'Omar, please make sure you have your vitamin C everyday' - text from Ami.

COVID-19 was now devastating parts of Europe. Reports from northern parts of Italy detailed accounts of overflowing hospitals and people needing to be treated in makeshift tents outside. Closer to home, while our overall numbers were low the US government had declared a public health emergency due to the coronavirus outbreak. At the moment the COVID-19 outbreak met 2 of the 3 required factors for a pandemic: illness resulting in death and sustained person-to-person spread. Worldwide spread which was the third criteria had not been met yet.

But even though this had not been declared a pandemic yet, COVID-19 was the only news being reported on by every media outlet. So naturally, public apprehension here and back in Pakistan was high. Madi and I were among the only physicians in our respective families so we seemed to be screening messages, and calls 24/7 now.

The irony of it all was that while our families and friends were looking at us as some sort of experts on COVID-19, we were literally learning about it as we were typing out replies to their inquiries. Due to my PhD I may have understood the science a bit better, but there was just so little worthwhile scientific data that even I was often relying on information from press releases by groups of physicians, or laymen reporters who were relating on-the-ground realities at whichever outbreak region they were in.

"Gah, stop texting me!" Madi yelled at her phone as it buzzed with 4 back-to-back messages. "It's so funny that I am suddenly the most popular person in my family. Some of these same people told me that I would waste my life and never get married if I became a doctor. Yet here they are, in my inbox at the first sign of some distressing medical news."

I leaned into her slightly, "Well you sure showed them didn't you, Doctor Madia Ahmed. Soon to be wed to me."

A rosy hue painted her freckled cheeks and her gaze drifted downwards as a subtle smile graced her lips. A group of faculty walked past us just then prompting me to lower my voice. "Have I told you how adorable you look when you blush?"