Covid Chronicles: September Update

Numbers as at 10 September

New Daily Cases: 1619

Total Cases: 364,000

Currently hospitalised: 328 (46% unvaccinated)

Currently in ICU: 59 (75% unvaccinated)

Total deaths: 5155

Vaccine doses administered: nearly 7 million

I’ve not updated much about Covid in the last few months, as I’m a bit over it, to be honest.

Given NZ and NSW are back in lockdown, I’ll give you an update on what it’s like to live with Covid, and have the threat of death hanging over you, like Ireland’s constant rainclouds. 

Ursula Von Der leyen (Head of EU parliament) has been to visit Dublin and congratulated Ireland on how well they’ve done managing Covid. Compared to the rest of the EU, they have done well.

Ireland sported the longest lockdowns in Europe – pubs that don’t serve food did it the hardest, being closed for nearly 500 days. Kiwis asked me how they could possibly be in lockdown for over 20 weeks and have Covid everywhere still. 

Part of it is different variants – Delta’s spread has been relentless, and before that, the Alpha variant from the UK, around Christmas time. Mostly the difference is Ireland’s highest level of lockdown is nowhere near as severe as New Zealand’s. Ireland’s harshest level is equivalent to NZ’s Level 3, and it’s not enforced, so they’re more like loose guidelines. 

I suggested to a neighbour during a socially-distanced conversation that the Gardai (police) should be giving people fines if they broke lockdown rules and she was horrified. The last time the police were enforcing anything by force here, it was brother against brother in the Irish Civil War 100 years ago. That’s not how you do things here.

The highlights of the last few months include:

• World’s longest lockdown (Dec 26-May 24, I’m sure it’s not, but it felt like it.) 
• Holding access to pubs and restaurants ransom, and only allowing vaccinated inside dining and drinking, while everyone else can come, but they have to sit outside in the rain.
• Vaccine delivery delays
• Buying doses from Romania because Ireland has one of the highest uptake rates in any country. (See: holding pubs and restaurants to ransom.)
• Overall reasonably successful vaccine roll out, despite some hiccups in the lead up to Irish summer. Now nearly 90% of the adult population is partially vaccinated, and over 70% fully.
• Ireland has extended vaccinations to teens and children down to the age of 12. 

I arrived back in Ireland on May 11. In order to fly, I had to have a negative Covid test in Sydney. I went through ghost-town-like Hong Kong, and sparsely populated London airports, where most people at the airport appeared to be going to Dublin, and I arrived back home to an elated husband. 

I had to change my flights to Ireland, so that I wasn’t going through Dubai, otherwise I would’ve had to go through hotel isolation again, and pay €2000 for the privilege. This was easily dodged by changing my flights. Ireland, the UK and the EU value personal freedom and the right to travel much more than the collective protection that hotel isolation provides. Ireland got into a great deal of trouble with the EU for trying to keep people out, and this plan was nullified as anyone trying to get in could just fly into Belfast, then take the train down.

5 days of isolation, and another negative Covid test, I was back to teaching full time. 

After a month of no work, with there only being 6 weeks left in the year, I was quite grateful for such a short isolation, particularly given I was much more likely to catch it in Ireland than any of the other places I’d been. 

As a substitute teacher, I had to be super vigilant about following Covid guidelines in the classroom – I had no wish to be a super-spreader. I brought my own cup and cutlery, ensured children washed their hands at various times in the day, and kept windows open – even when it was only 10 degrees outside.

One week in early June, I got a push notification that 30-39yos could register next week. 

Someone said that when it opened for 40-49 year olds, you could register a few days early.

I tried on the Friday prior. No dice. 

I tried on the Monday. Still no luck. 

This was about when the supply of vaccines had had some problems. 

Still no registration for 30-39 year olds available. I tried again a few days later.

I was going between 4 different schools a week, potentially exposing hundreds of people if I were to become infectious. 

Initially, teachers were prioritised early in the queue for vaccines, but after Christmas, healthcare workers were vaccinated, then they switched to an age-based system. Teachers threatened to protest, zero fucks were given by anyone else. Despite the high risks of the job, teachers were given no priority.

So I decided to test the system. 

In order to register, you had to put in your details, including PPS number, (like your IRD number) so I assumed that they’d check it against the database to ensure you weren’t fabricating your information. 

So I tried putting in my DOB with a typo. 1978. Same year as Jared. Mine’s actually 1987. If I was to be caught out, I could just claim legitimate typo, right? Surely, I wouldn’t even be allowed to register! They’d check it against the system, and it wouldn’t work.

I was wrong. 

Register I did. 

Nothing happened for a while, then 2 weeks later, I got a text confirming my vaccine appointment. 

I needed to bring photo ID to the appointment. There was no way I was going to get away with this! 

I messaged Jared. Our appointments were within 5 minutes of each other! 

The day of the appointments arrived. We rocked up, showed the security guard our appointment details. ‘That’s fine’, he said, ushered us in. 

Inside, there were another two security guards, and four windows where people needed to show photo ID. 

I had worked out that morning that the PPS card counted as photo ID, and didn’t show your date of birth. There was no way they were going to accept this, surely! 

There was going to be a scene. The security guards would grab me and turf my youthful arse out. 

Reporters would appear from nowhere, and the world would know I’d tried to get a vaccine before it was my turn, all would go awry, then I’d be barred from getting the vaccine at all! 

After a nervous wait, I stepped up to the counter.

The person gave my PPS card the most cursory of checks, then asked my date of birth. I told him what I put on the form. I did. I’m not proud of it, but I did. I could say I did it for myself or for the children, and I did, but honestly I was just testing the limits of what I could get away with. 

A fair amount, it turns out

He waved me through. I, to him, was just one of the five million they were trying to get through. They had targets to meet. The current government could use some positive headlines to buoy their image. Humans have a bias towards truth – we believe other people. What woman would willingly lie about being older?!

I scampered past the security guard, avoiding eye contact, and followed the nurse’s direction to a booth. There were two nurses in my booth, perhaps one training. I sat down, a little flustered, but relieved that no scene was made. “Oh there now, are you OK?” the nurse could tell I was a little nervous, but mistook the cause. “Oh it’ll be over in no time!”

“Oh yea, I’m fine, just…”

“Can you confirm your details please?” I confirm them, as she has in front of her. This was seriously too easy. I feel like Leonardo Di Caprio’s character from Catch Me If You Can. She brings out the needle, I turn away. She jokingly asks if she should do that too. 

3 seconds later, it’s all done. 

I go to the waiting area, and find seat.

If you do the wrong thing, and no one calls you out on it, is it still wrong?

If you do the wrong thing for the right reasons, is it still the wrong thing?

Whatever your answer, what’s done is done. I’m fully vaccinated, and now have less fear of spreading Covid here, there and everywhere, or catching it myself. 

I had also pested my Doctor about getting an early vaccination, as I have asthma and if I got Covid, it could be quite serious. They finally replied the next day, saying I could come in.

Murphy’s law.

Why am I telling you this? Because instead of vaccination being a theoretical, or political decision, it is a form of salvation here. NZ and Australia have had the luxury of life as normal for the better part of the last two years, but that has certainly not been the case here. 

If you have a chance to get the jab, do it. If not for yourself, then for the people who you could possibly spread it to. Since April, 96% of ICU patient deaths in Ireland have been unvaccinated people.

Unfortunately, the vaccines aren’t the silver bullet we were hoping for. Ireland has a very high vaccine uptake rate, and also has the second highest incidence rate of Covid in the EU, with around 1600 new cases a day. There have been ‘breakthrough cases’, at a rate of about 20%. The win here is that there are fewer hospitalisations, and fewer deaths. 

A lot of Ireland’s great Covid work has been hampered by their neighbours to the North being less Covid-conscientious. Throughout the pandemic, counties that are sparsely populated but border Northern Ireland have had a higher Covid incidence rate than Dublin for the most part.

Northern Ireland has a population that is about 1/3 of the Republic’s, (1.9 million compared to 4.9 million) comprised of only 6 counties compared to the Republic’s 26, but has similar daily case numbers and death rates, meaning the cumulative death rate in Northern Ireland is nearly seven times that of the Republic, according to some commentators, but these numbers have been disputed.

One could make a valid argument that the UK’s more lax policies have meant much more spread of the virus in the community. Their lockdowns were shorter, and they opened up indoor dining and bars much sooner than the Republic. Northern Ireland also has the lowest vaccine uptake rate of the UK, compounding the problem. This is the peeing section of the pool. Unfortunately the rest of Ireland can’t just get out of the pool.

Will this all be over soon? It’s not looking like it. So in the meantime, take care of yourself, take care of others, take care of your mental health, and take care of the planet.

Tune in here for more Covid Chronicles, but hopefully not too many more. 

Now to go watch the All-Ireland GAA Football final!

(Cool infographic about lockdowns around the world.)