The disability Covid twilight zone
Disabled people are trying to balance risks in this new phase of the pandemic
Hello, happy Tuesday.
I’m not going to address today’s news because frankly I find it exhausting and also because I’ve already said what I have to say about the whole sorry affair.
Instead I thought I’d address a feeling I’m seeing a lot in the disability community, and that I’ve been feeling myself this week, which is: what do we do now?
It feels like we’re entering a new and confusing phase of the pandemic. Omicron isn’t going away, the government is using its apparent mildness to avoid acting, seemingly everyone has Covid, and people are concluding we’re going to have to live with this thing and throwing caution to the wind. And no matter how worried we are, disabled people can’t isolate forever. Yet what do you say to the idea of living with the virus when it’s your community that has been dying with it this whole time?
In short: I have no idea. It’s like balancing on a wire that hasn’t been pulled tight. Even I, the most Covid-cautious, am at the point where I need to see my friends. I’m triple-jabbed, as I’m pretty sure is everyone I know, and we’re all testing like there’s no tomorrow. I simply can’t face any more freezing cold walks trying to chat to friends while dodging rain, so I have convinced myself that meeting at home under these conditions is as safe as anything is going to be for quite some time. I am trying not to think about the fact that I can’t remember when I last went to the pub or ate in a restaurant, and probably won’t do either for a few months more, and instead be grateful that the wonder of science has made at least this much possible.
These are the decisions I have made about the risks I am willing to take, and I’m sticking to them, but who knows if they’re the right ones. At times I think they’re too strict - if everyone else is meeting up, does it even matter? - at times, too lax. The truth is, it’s impossible to say, but for disabled people being left to make these decisions feels like a continuation of the abandonment we’ve endured throughout the pandemic.
Of course, I’m lucky to be able to make these decisions. Many disabled people are immunocompromised and don’t fully benefit from the vaccine; how many risks can they take? Many have to go to work or send their kids to schools where Covid is rife. Many have carers who make tens of different visits a day, the perfect super-spreader. Many live with others who will not or cannot be as careful as they need. These people do not have the luxury of deciding who crosses their threshold and they need the government’s support.
And yet, there are those nondisabled people who are now acting as if the pandemic is over. Every time they go to a party (ahem) or see a friend without doing a test, they are prolonging the pandemic and this time that disabled people are spending in the twilight zone; uncertain, nervous, but trying to make it work.
If you are disabled, I hope you’re able to make the decisions that are right for you. And if you have a disabled friend, ask them what you can do to hang out with them; whether it’s carrying on with zoom calls, meeting with a hot chocolate in the park, or doing a few tests, they will doubtless appreciate the effort to keep them safe.
See you next week,
Lucy
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Links of the week
This is a really interesting look at how working from home is entrenching inequality - but could also be part of the answer (Guardian)
There’s been loads of good stuff in The Atlantic recently, including this look at whether genetics offer clues to treating Covid, why you can’t just become a better person, and whether you really want to live to 150