Reflections From the Ongoing 2023 COVID Surge
I don't want to be commended for wearing a mask in public
In late August, my partner and I attended a sold-out local comedy show. The headlining comedian—a Jersey-famous writer slash actor slash podcaster—will go unnamed.
Expectedly, my partner and I were the only ones masked in a room full of 57 seats. Expectedly, one of the opener comedians—who will also not be named—singled us out for wearing masks.
He glanced over at us, “I commend you guys for wearing masks.”
“I can’t wear a mask… well, I can, but I don’t like it,” he elaborated as he transitioned into a joke. “I put one on and look like a single titty.” He was bald.
Admittedly, I laughed initially, until my smile dropped as I processed the call-out.
I don’t like wearing masks, either. In fact, I hate wearing masks. I hate wearing a mask in a room full of unmasked people especially.
. . .
Typically, out in public, I’m one of very few masked in the grocery store, movie theater, or other public place aside from my partner or friend. Increasingly more often, when I go places by myself, I’m the only person masked.
Back in June, I took a train into Manhattan to attend Elliot Page’s book talk for his new memoir, Pageboy. (I recommend reading it if you haven’t already!) Earlier, on my drive to Secaucus Junction, I felt alarmed ingesting a strong, smokey odor. I called my partner immediately and asked if there was a wildfire nearby.
“No, it’s smoke from Canada,” he replied.
Already equipped from a respirator-style mask I planned to wear on public transit, I knew to wear it outside to protect my lungs from the poor air quality. While not everyone was masked outside, I noticed a lot more masks being worn that night in Midtown, more than I’ve seen since COVID vaccines have been available.
When I sat down in the venue auditorium, I greeted the two people seated next to me. While a handful of the hundreds of attendees masked, the two next to me weren’t. They greeted me back with smiles. With one glance at my mask, though, they both pulled out their KN95s. I wondered why they had brought masks at all if they didn’t intend wearing them indoors at a large gathering. I then remembered my journey fom the Northeast Corridor, accompanied by Canadian wildfire smoke sneaking between the Manhattan skyscrapers; they likely wore masks outside, only to take them off once indoors.
. . .
I gave up fighting with those who don’t mask in my personal relationships. Instead, I rely on my boundaries to decide whether I still want to see the person and risk the exposure. Oftentimes, I choose the risk, not out of a need for connection. If I didn’t do this, my world would get smaller, like it did for months and years since March 2020; when my in-person social circle shrank, those few relationships were incredibly strained, to the point I felt isolated even from those people. I shouldn’t have to choose between exposure and connection, of course, yet here I am. While writing the first draft of this essay, two days after the comedy show, I took a writing break to take an at-home COVID test days to check I’m not carrying an asymptotic infection.
. . .
When I’m surrounded by so many unmasked people, I carry a new kind of social anxiety that ebbs and flows. I feel moments of impending doom accompanied by a tight chest and rapid heartbeats. I teeter on the edge of a panic attack, my body on a constant 9 out of 10 scale. The NOVID club gets smaller every day, will my membership finally be revoked? My body knows this risk. I can only listen to it.
I can only listen to my body so much amidst its constant discomfort. Sometimes, I’d rather stay home than listen to my body’s discomfort in a crowded, unmasked room.
I don’t want to be commended for wearing a mask. (Not that I want this either, but isn’t it also weird that I’m not commended for staying home?) I want another lockdown and mask mandates reinstated. I want more paid sick time from work, more structured contact tracing. I want free vaccines, COVID testing, and masks for all. I want more collective action on behalf of health equity because the U.S. government doesn’t care if some of us die, as seen in Anthony Fauci’s recent BBC interview. After he explained, “the virus doesn’t know whether it’s spring, summer, winter, or fall,” he’s asked: “How serious could it get again?”
“The virus that’s circulating now is the EG.5 and XBB and XBB variants. Most of the people who have gotten infected or have gotten vaccinated and boosted have a degree of immunity that they may very well get infected with the new virus that’s circulating. Two positive aspects of that 96% or more of the population have some degree of immunity either through prior infection or through vaccines, or both, with or without boosters. So if you get a surge of infections now, you’re certainly going to see infections. You’re going to see people that likely will get mild to moderately ill. You’ll get some people, mostly the vulnerable: the elderly and those with underlying conditions, who might require hospitalization and even some death. But I doubt very seriously, though, you always keep an open mind. You never say things with complete confidence with this virus. But I doubt very seriously whether you’re going to see the hospital and death surge that we’ve seen in the past, even if we get a surge of protections because there’s enough fundamental community-level protection, even though you’ll find the vulnerable will fall by the wayside, they’ll get infected, they’ll get hospitalized, and some will die. It’s not going to be the tsunami of cases that we’ve seen.”
We cannot go back to where we were three and a half years ago where many peddled narratives of personal responsibility to “flatten the curve.” We can, however, reflect on what has and hasn’t worked in reducing transmissions, based on the conducted research. We can remind ourselves that:
Masks work in reducing infection transmission.
Respirator-style N95 masks are more effective in reducing infection transmissions, compared to surgical-style and cloth masks. Compared to N95s, surgical masks don’t fit as tightly and provide significantly less filtration while cloth masks provide even less filtration than surgical masks, according to a 2020 study.
Several layers of protection—indoor air quality improvement, well-fitting and high-quality masks, physical distance, reduction of time spent indoors, limitation of those around you, vaccines and boosters, and COVID testing—effectively reduce infection transmission.
Hundreds of people are dying from COVID-19 still every day.
You don’t need to wait until someone around you is sick to wear a mask.
You don’t need to wait until you are sick to wear a mask.