Monthly Archives: February 2022

When the coronavirus pandemic began, Emily Landon thought about her own risk only in rare quiet moments. An infectious-disease doctor at the University of Chicago Medicine, she was cramming months of work into days, preparing her institution for the viruss arrival in the United States. But Landon had also recently developed rheumatoid arthritisa disease in which a persons immune system attacks their own jointsand was taking two drugs that, by suppressing said immune system, made her more vulnerable to pathogens. Normally, shed be confident about avoiding infections, even in a hospital setting. This felt different. We didnt have enough tests, it was probably around us everywhere, and Im walking around every day with insufficient antibodies and hamstrung T-cells, she told me. And she knew exactly what was happening to people who got infected. One night, she found that in the fog of an earlier day, she had written on her to-do list: Make a will. And I realized, Oh my God, I could die, she said. I just cried and cried.

Two years later, COVID-19 is still all around us, everywhere, and millions of people like Landon are walking around with a compromised immune system. A significant proportion of them dont respond to COVID vaccines, so despite being vaccinated, many are still unsure whether theyre actually protectedand some know that they arent. Much of the United States dropped COVID restrictions long ago; many more cities and states are now following. That means policies that protected Landon and other immunocompromised people, including mask mandates and vaccination requirements, are disappearing, while accommodations that benefited them, such as flexible working options, are being rolled back.

This isnt a small group. Close to 3 percent of U.S. adults take immunosuppressive drugs, either to treat cancers or autoimmune disorders or to stop their body from rejecting transplanted organs or stem cells. That makes at least 7 million immunocompromised peoplea number thats already larger than the populations of 36 states, without even including the millions more who have diseases that also hamper immunity, such as AIDS and at least 450 genetic disorders.

In the past, immunocompromised people lived with their higher risk of infection, but COVID represents a new threat that, for many, has further jeopardized their ability to be part of the world. From the very start of the pandemic, some commentators have floated the idea that we can protect the vulnerable and everyone else can go on with their lives, Seth Trueger, who is on immunosuppressants for an autoimmune complication of cancer, told me. Hows that supposed to work? He is an emergency doctor at Northwestern Medicine; he can neither work from home nor protect himself by avoiding public spaces. How am I supposed to provide for my family or live my life if theres a pandemic raging? he said. Contrary to popular misconceptions, most immunocompromised people are neither visibly sick nor secluded. I know very few people who are immunocompromised and get to live in a bubble, says Maggie Levantovskaya, a writer and literature professor who has lupus, an autoimmune disorder that can cause debilitating inflammation across the entire body.

As the coronavirus moves from a furious boil to a gentle simmer, many immunocompromised people (like everyone else) hope to slowly expand their life again. But right now, its like asking someone who cannot swim to jump into the ocean instead of trying a pool, Vivian Cheung, a biologist at the University of Michigan who has a genetic autoimmune disorder, told me. I feel this pressure of jumping into the Pacific and not knowing if I can survive or not.

Whether that changes depends on the accommodations society is willing to make. Ramps, accessibility buttons, screen readers, and many other measures have made life easier for disabled people, and a new wave of similar accommodations is now necessary to make immunosuppression less of a disability in the COVID era. Exactly none of the people I talked with wants a permanent lockdown. Its not like immunocompromised people are enjoying any of this, Levantovskaya told me. What they do wantwork flexibility, better ways of controlling infectious diseases, and more equitable medical treatmentswould also benefit everyone, not just now but for the rest of our lives.

For more than three decades, Julia Irzyk has lived with lupus symptoms. She also has rheumatoid arthritis, a degenerative spinal condition, and heart problems. When she gets colds, they tend to progress to full-blown pneumonia, so even before the pandemic she was mindful about infections. Shed avoid big events and rarely ate out. When she flew, which she did infrequently, shed wear a mask. For this story, I spoke with 21 people who are either immunocompromised or care for those who are; others were similarly fastidious pre-pandemic about washing their hands, getting their flu vaccines, and avoiding people who were clearly sick. Landon wouldnt go to parties at the height of flu season. Cheung wore masks on flights and wiped down the surfaces around her. But none of them was living in seclusion. All of them had rich social lives.

COVID changed that. The new coronavirus forced them to go beyond their previous precautions, because it is deadlier than normal respiratory pathogens, can spread from people who arent obviously sick, and did so at breakneck speed. Compared with others, when immunocompromised people get COVID-19, they tend to be sicker for longer. Irzyks rheumatologist told her not to go out: If you get this, your heart and lungs wont be able to take it. So she went seven months without leaving her home, and still spends most of her time there. She missed both her grandmothers funerals. She delayed important medical procedures, even as her lupus symptoms got worse because one of her treatmentshydroxychloroquineran out of stock after Donald Trump falsely touted it as a COVID cure.

COVID has also defined Harper Corrigans life. She was born in September 2019nine weeks early, and with a rare brain malformation called lissencephaly. She has never played with another child even though, being sassy and funny, she really wants to. A week before the U.S. shut down in March 2020, Harper had to have a tracheostomy, leaving her even more vulnerable to respiratory viruses and, in turn, potentially deadly seizures. The Corrigans spent 11 months with her in the hospital. Even after her health had stabilized, they couldnt find any nurses to help with home care, and the hospital wouldnt discharge her. When they finally got home, they went into strict lockdown. Children with Harpers condition arent expected to live to adulthood, so her mother, Corey, told me that her priority is to squeeze a full life into an unknown amount of time. But that requires the spread of the virus to slow, and vaccines to be authorized for children under 5.

The danger of the pandemics first fearful year still hangs over the heads of many immunocompromised people, even as those around them relax into the security of vaccination. Vaccines should substantially slash the risk of infection and severe illness, but many immunocompromised people barely respond to the COVID shots. At one extreme, about half of organ-transplant recipients produce no antibodies at all after two vaccine doses. Compared with the general vaccinated public, they are 82 times more likely to get breakthrough infections and 485 times more likely to be severely ill. Should they get infected, their risk of hospitalization is a coin flip. Their risk of death is one in 10. Imagine walking around and being in society and thinking, If you give me COVID, I might have a 10 percent risk of dying, Dorry Segev, a transplant surgeon at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine, told me. His patients are better off than unvaccinated people, but not by much, despite all weve done.

Other groups of immunocompromised people fare better after vaccination, but Segev estimates that a quarter are still insufficiently protected. And some people with autoimmune disorders cannot be fully vaccinated, because their initial doses led to severe flare-ups of their normal symptoms. Alfred Kim, a rheumatologist at Washington University in St. Louis who specializes in lupus, told me that 5 to 10 percent of his patients experienced these problems; so did two of the people I interviewed, both of whom declined further shots.

Many immunocompromised people are now stuck in limbounsure about how safe they really are, even after getting three shots and a booster, as the CDC advises. Scientific studies can hint at the average risks across large groups but offer little certainty for individuals. Sometimes, no studies exist at all, as is the case for Cheung, whose genetic disorder is so rare that it doesnt even have a name. As a doctor, Im trained to parse scientific data, but I cant parse my way to answers that dont exist, says Lindsay Ryan, a physician at UC San Francisco who has a neurological autoimmune disorder. Could I actually define my risk of death if I got COVID? No, I really cant. And thats a hard thing to make peace with.

Each individual infection is its own high-stakes gamble. Ive spoken with immunocompromised people who got COVID and were fine. Others had mild initial illness, but then developed more severe long-COVID symptoms. Yet others are certain theyd fare badly: Chloe Atkins, a political scientist who works on disability and employment issues, has an autoimmune disease called myasthenia gravis, and colds can immediately make it difficult for me to breathe, see, move, walk, or talk, she told me. She knew two people with the same condition, both of whom died from COVID. She and others are facing the same arduous risk assessments that everyone else contends withbut heightened because of the greater possible costs of choosing wrongly. And while they wrestle with those uncertainties, the gulf between them and the rest of society is widening.

Over the past year, as many Americans reveled in their restored freedoms, many immunocompromised people felt theirs shrinking. When the CDC announced that fully vaccinated Americans no longer needed to mask indoors, simple activities such as grocery shopping became more dangerous for immunocompromised people, who were offered no advice from the nations top public-health agency. When Joe Biden said in a speech that unvaccinated Americans were looking at a winter of severe illness and death, I felt like he was talking to me, Cheung said. And when commentators bemoaned irrational liberals who refused to abandon pandemic restrictions, many of the people I spoke with felt they were being mocked for trying to protect themselves and their loved ones. I already feel different from other people because of this situation, Colleen Boyce told me; she donated a kidney to her husband, Mark, who is now immunosuppressed. The thought that when I mask up, others might look at me like theres something wrong with me is hard to handle.

These changes were especially hard to take because, for a time, immunocompromised people caught a glimpse of something better. Beth Wallace, a rheumatologist at the University of Michigan, told me that many of her patients once accepted that viruses would regularly flatten them but have now realized that they dont have to live that way. Cautious behaviors and flexibility around work meant that the flu practically vanished, and many immunocompromised people were actually less sick during the COVID era than before. And while they dont want lockdowns to persist, they had hoped that the flexibility might. Sung Yun Pai of the National Institutes of Health told me that in the past, her patientschildren who receive stem-cell transplants to treat genetic immune disorderswould simply have had to miss school. In some ways, the whole world going virtual gave them better access to education, she said. But remote options are now disappearing, and not just in schooling. Several immunocompromised people told me that their social world is shrinking, as friends who earlier in the pandemic hung out with them virtually are now interested only in face-to-face gatherings.

Work is becoming less flexible too. Finding and keeping jobs can be very hard for people with chronic illnesses such as lupus, which can leave them feeling powerless to advocate for themselves. With close to no say about your working conditions, you can only do so much to protect yourself, Levantovskaya, the literature professor, said. Several immunocompromised people have been told that theyre holding the rest of society back. In fact, it is the opposite: Theyre being forced to reintegrate with no regard for their residual risk.

And perhaps worst of all, immunocompromised people began to be outright dismissed by their friends, relatives, and colleagues because of the misleading narrative that Omicron is mild. The variant bypassed some of the defenses that even immunocompetent people had built up, rendered several antibody treatments ineffective, and swamped the health-care system that immunocompromised people rely on. And yet one of Wallaces patients was told by their sister that no one is dying anymore. In fact, people are still dying, and immunocompromised people disproportionately so. Ignoring that sends an implicit message: Your lives dont matter.

Sometimes, the message becomes explicit. Several of the immunocompromised people I talked with have been toldsometimes by family members or former partnersthat they are a burden on society, that they dont deserve a relationship, that their dying would be natural selection. When Corey Corrigan was trying to decide whether to put Harper through another surgery, a medical provider said, Well, shes not going to live very long, so it doesnt really matter, she told me.

When Atkins, the political scientist, first heard that the other coronaviruses that cause common colds may have started as worse pathogens, she immediately thought about what that trajectory means for COVID. Oh, people like me die off and the ones for whom its not a big impact carry on, and COVID becomes a cold, she told me. Part of me still feels that way, like theres a sort of natural eugenics happening. Eugenicsthe concept of improving humanity by encouraging the fittest people to have children while preventing the unfit from doing sois most commonly associated with the Holocaust, Aparna Nair, an anthropologist and historian of disability at the University of Oklahoma, told me. But in the 20th century, the concept had broad support from physicians and public-health practitioners, who saw it as a scientific way of solving problems such as poverty and poor health; it influenced the development of IQ tests, marriage counseling, and immigration laws. Eugenics is often framed as part of a past that is over, Nair said. I think the pandemic has demonstrated that thats not entirely the case. Most Americans today would probably think the concept reprehensible and few are actively pursuing it. But when a society acts as if the deaths of vulnerable people are unavoidable, and does little to lessen their risks, it is still implicitly assigning lower value to certain lives.

COVID isnt going away. With eradication long off the table, the disease will become a permanent part of our livesanother serious infectious threat added to a ledger already full of them. Everyone whos immunocompromised will have to figure out what their normal looks likeand it isnt going to look like the normal for other people, Ryan, of UC San Francisco, told me.

New treatments could help. Paxlovid, an antiviral drug from Pfizer, can reduce the risk of hospitalization and death from COVID by 88 percent, as long as patients are treated within five days of their first symptoms (although the NIH notes that the drug shouldnt be given alongside certain immunosuppressants). Evusheld, a two-antibody cocktail from AstraZeneca, can reduce the risk of developing COVID, and though less effective against Omicron, it is still protective; the FDA issued an emergency-use authorization for the cocktail to prevent infections in immunocompromised people.

But these drugs are in short supply. The government has ordered only 1.7 million doses of Evusheld and distributed 400,000, which is woefully inadequate given that the U.S. has at least 7 million immunocompromised adults. Many institutions have only enough for their most severely immunosuppressed patients, and theres people like me who dont even come close to meeting the cut, UChicago Medicines Landon told me. Even patients who clear the high bar of medical need might not be able to get a dose quickly; some hospitals have had to run lotteries to decide who gets the drugs. Its truly not acceptable, said Cheung, who got Evusheld only by pestering every medical contact she hada route not available to people without connections, time, or privilege. For her and others, this problem compounds their sense that their government deems them dispensable, especially considering the far-greater effort put into producing and distributing vaccines. Theres a drug that could prevent immunocompromised people who arent protected from vaccines from dying, Ryan said. Shouldnt they have access to it before we decide that COVID belongs in the same category as the flu?

Beyond equitable access to treatments, the people I spoke with mostly want structural changesbetter ventilation standards, widespread availability of tests, paid sick leave, and measures to improve vaccination rates. Above all else, they want flexibility, in both private and public spaces. That means remote-work and remote-school options, but also mask mandates for essential spaces such as grocery stores and pharmacies, which could be toggled on or off depending on a communitys caseload. Without better, more available treatments or more structural changes, immunocompromised people will still depend on measures that prevent infections. Maintaining them would require, at times, that others make some allowance for their heightened risk. But in terms of what individual people can do for them, the most common request I heard was: Just have a heart. Regardless of your own choices, dont jeer at us for being mindful of our higher risks, and definitely dont tell us that our lives are worth less.

All of these measures would protect society as a whole from infectious diseases in general. They would also require some upfront investment in deciding how, exactly, they would workshould companies be required to offer remote work, when possible, for some duration? Whats the threshold for switching on mask requirements? These policies represent added expense and effort for our institutions, but this is the question that the U.S. now faces: COVID has added burdens to our society; who will bear their weight? Immunocompromised people often hear that the world didnt make accommodations for them before the pandemic and shouldnt be expected to do so after. But in the past, infectious diseases did prompt big social changes. A massive infrastructure was created to meet the yearly onslaught of influenza, including antivirals, annual vaccines, and a global surveillance system that tracks new strains. After the polio epidemics of the 1940s, there was a wave of interest in remote schooling and an increasing number of people who used phones and other technologies to finish school and go to university, Nair, the historian of disability, told me.

And in the late 20th century, the notion of disability itself began to shift. It used to be seen as an entirely medical problemsomething that emerges from a persons biology and can be fixed, Nair said. But the disability-rights movement ushered in a more social model, in which disability is as much about a persons environment as it is about their body. People who use wheelchairs are more enabled in spaces with ramps and accessibility buttons on doors. Similarly, equitable access to Evusheld and flexible working policies would make immunocompromised people less disabled in an era where COVID is here to stay.

COVID will eventually become endemica term with so many definitions that it means almost nothing at all, as my colleagues Katherine J. Wu and Jacob Stern wrote. The error I hear so often now is to use the notion of an endemic virus as a reason for abdicationto drop precautions quickly and not do the more important and difficult work of putting in place the societal measures that would make living with coronavirus more tolerable, Ryan said. We need to earn the ability to switch from emergency to endemic. Fashioning a world in which being immunocompromised requires fewer compromises is possible and is not too onerous. And even if people reject the moral argument for creating such a world, there are two good, selfish reasons to build it nonetheless.

First, the coronavirus evolves rapidly in people with weakened immune systems, who also suffer longer infections and are contagious for more time. The Alpha variant of the first pandemic winter likely evolved in this way, and Omicron may have too. Its quite possible that a new variant that harms someone with a normal immune system could come from an immunocompromised person who they failed to protect, Kim, the Washington University rheumatologist, told me.

Second, the immune system weakens with age, so while most people will never be as vulnerable as an organ-transplant recipient, their immunity will still become partly compromised. Respecting the needs of immunocompromised people isnt about disproportionately accommodating some tiny minority; its really about empathizing with your future self. Everyones going to deal with illness at some point in their life, Levantovskaya said. Dont you want a better world for yourself when that time comes?

Read more from the original source:

The Pandemic Isn't Over for Immunocompromised People - The Atlantic

Early this year, two mysterious billboards rose above the city.

The boards, at Northeast Killingsworth Street and Interstate 205 and Southeast Division and 106th Avenue, went up Jan. 3 and 12, respectively. Both blare the same terse message: Stop Having Kids, in white text on a black background.

The billboards say they are paid for by a little-known organization called Stop Having Kids. That same advocacy group, which got its start in Portland, according to a spokeswoman, put up a third billboard along Interstate 5 near Salem: A Lot of Humans Wish They Had Never Been Born.

Oregonians pride themselves on free speechour state constitution provides broader protections than does the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Animal rights groups, environmental extremists, and white supremacists have long taken advantage of the states say anything attitude. Even the police buy billboards to get their message out.

But advocating against procreation? Thats a new message for this city.

So we set out to figure out whos behind it.

First things first: By all accounts, the billboards are not somebodys idea of a sick joke.

Stop Having Kids spokeswoman Ashley Riddle says the group started informally in Portland a few months before March 2021 and identifies itself as a collective liberation movement. Its website makes the groups platform clear: The organization is antinatalist, meaning its against all human reproduction.

Lamar Advertising, a billboard company based in Baton Rouge, La., owns the billboards in question, part of the companys portfolio of 400 billboards in the Portland area.

Richard Smith, Lamars Portland manager, says headquarters reviews prospective advertisers. Once [the vice president of governmental affairs] vets it with his people, then we dont worry about it because its been done at the highest level of our company, Smith says. You sign a contract, you pay for it, your billboard goes up.

Smith declined to disclose the duration of Stop Having Kids contract or how much the group is paying, but he says medium-sized bulletins on the eastside of Portland cost between $800 and $1,200 a month.

Riddle says money for the billboards came from an anonymous donor, and actually getting them put up was a long process: There was some difficulty in finding a company that would follow through. [Companies] would seem all for it, and then they stopped responding.

She declined to identify the founder of Stop Having Kids by his full name, saying she knows him only as Dietz.

State records show, however, that Stop Having Kids was incorporated in January 2021 by Eric Goldberg, a Portland photographer whose middle name is Dietz.

Riddle says Dietz creates almost all of the content on the organizations website, most of which is information on antinatalism.

Information about Goldberg isnt readily available. The owner of stophavingkids.org is cloaked by an internet proxy, and the website lists no staff or contact information aside from the email address info@stophavingkids.org.

Goldberg did not respond to WWs requests for comment. That makes it a little harder to unpack what hes seeking.

After all, Oregons birth rates are already low. According to the Oregon Office of Economic Analysis, the states birth rate stands at 40th in the nation. And in 2020, state figures show, deaths here outnumbered births for the first time ever.

Stop Having Kids defines antinatalism as a philosophical and ethical stance against human reproduction and says antinatalists consider human reproduction to be an irreversible, unnecessary, indefensible, and enduring form of harm, regardless of circumstances, situations, or consciousness in living.

The group says it wants to inspire and provoke critical thinking about reproductive choices and is against forcing individuals to do anything either way.

The site lists a myriad of reasons for being antinatalist, including Birth Defects, Life Is Suffering and Enough People Already.

Stop Having Kids also links antinatalism to veganism, coining the term vegantinatalism. The site says the two ideologies are one and the same since both are rooted in harm reduction and compassion.

Goldbergs activism apparently isnt reserved for antinatalism.

2020 news reports from Minnesota say an Oregonian named Eric Goldberg, the same age as the Stop Having Kids founder (now 34), used a $1,900 drone to surveil a chicken farming operation there when a truck driver for the chicken processing plant blasted the drone from the sky with his shotgun. The shooter was arrested.

In addition to billboards and its website, Stop Having Kids does advocacy work through sidewalk demonstrations that Riddle calls street outreach.

A small group stations itself on a sidewalk with signs that say things like Normalize Antinatalism and Parenthood Regret Is a Silent Epidemic.

Riddle says the goal of street outreach is to have as many conversations as possible. People share their stories about being child-free or wishing they were never born or their parents saying that they regret having them.

On the flipside, sidewalk pop-ups often spark confrontation, which is documented and posted on Stop Having Kids YouTube channel.

In a clip taken on Southwest 5th Avenue in Portland and uploaded to YouTube on Jan. 17, a man on a bike rides by the demonstrators and says, Not down with eugenics. The unseen camera operator recording the interaction responds, Where do you see anything about eugenics? The biker says, I think you know exactly what Im talking about. To this, the recorder says, This has nothing to do with eugenics.We are totally against human procreation all across the board.

The Portland clip isnt the only time the groups messaging has been likened to eugenics, controlling reproduction to increase desired heritable characteristics. In a video uploaded Jan. 25, 2021, a woman, after filming and yelling at demonstrators, says, I dont like Nazis who pretend to help others and try to make minorities not have children.

Riddle says despite such incidents, responses from passersby have been overwhelmingly positive. (Riddles Minneapolis chapter of Stop Having Kids also prepares food and hands it out to individuals experiencing homelessness and does garbage cleanups.) But increasing the fold has been difficult. Theres a lot of people who will reach out and say they would love to join, Riddle says, but then a day comes and they dont show.

Stop Having Kids raises money through donations and merchandise sales. Every month, a portion of proceeds goes to a different organization.

For February 2022, its sending money to React19, an organization working to increase our understanding in the role of COVID-19 in those who experience systemic and prolonged symptoms, after acute infection or after vaccination.

U.S. Sen. Ron Johnson (R-Wis.), one of the most ardent anti-vaxxers in Congress, hosted an expert panel on vaccine dangers in November, including a React19 co-founder as one of his experts. React19 did not respond to a request for comment.

Riddle says shes unaware of any particular reason Stop Having Kids chose to support React19. Its just whatever pops up on Dietzs radar.

Read the original post:

Who's Behind the Portland Billboards Demanding People Stop Having Kids? - Willamette Week