Among COVID hopes, fears remain

Last month, not to brag, I went to two indoor public events. This coincided with our first and second days as a country without a COVID-19 traffic light system.

The events were great – my niece and nephew’s Artsplash concert at the Michael Fowler Centre in Wellington gets five stars from this reviewer – but each brought me a kind of worry or even anxiety about COVID-19 risk, especially about whether anyone else would be wearing masks.

And, of course, the worry was justified as it seemed that fewer than a quarter of people walked through the front door with a mask on, and probably some then took off their masks during the performances. It is my privilege that I was able to stay at both shows in spite of this increased risk.

Nevertheless, it is hard for me to reconcile how we got to this point, even if there was a lot of warning that we would reach it. And that’s not to mention all the people I have been seeing on Instagram as they enjoy European holidays sans any apparent COVID-19 restrictions.

I find this hard to reconcile because I know my risk of getting COVID-19 is higher now than it was last year when we were in Alert Levels 3 or 4, restricted to isolating at home with our mandated walks.

It is also hard for me to reconcile when I know the impact of getting COVID-19 remains high for some of our population.

I know this because my uncle called me last weekend to talk about all the tangi he has been to. I know this because my GP is constantly sending out ManageMyHealth blasts. And I know this because, through my mahi this year, I have been fortunate to hear from groups led by tāngata whaikaha (disabled people) about the impacts of Omicron.

In April I was part of a team looking into the support of disabled people and whānau during Omicron for the Human Rights Commission. The aim of that inquiry was to highlight appropriate steps to mitigate against COVID’s increased risks and impacts for disabled people, tāngata whaikaha Māori and their whānau.

From the submissions to the inquiry, there was a sense that the aspirations and needs of disabled people and their whānau have not been given prominence in government policy and decision-making throughout the pandemic. This lack of prominence was amplified during the Omicron outbreak as the COVID-19 restrictions lessened.

Some specific concerns raised by tāngata whaikaha during the inquiry might have abated somewhat in the past few months but, overall, I expect the concerns shared in April remain now. These included:

Concerns with communications

It was hard to get accurate and timely disability-specific information, suggestions to call the 0800 lines only work for some people and the official messages are constantly changing.

Difficulties in staying safe during the pandemic

Many disabled people and their whānau decided the safest option was to effectively self-isolate away from the wider community.

Lack of support to isolate safely

The messages to stock up on essentials in case you need to self-isolate because of COVID-19 only work if you’ve got the resources to buy extra groceries, for example.

Difficulties accessing health services

These compounded the access problems already faced by many tāngata whaikaha.

Disruptions to disability support services

These occurred particularly with people working in disability support services testing positive for COVID-19.

The worry about this increased after the Ministry of Health, ACC and all the DHBs in February stated that, if Omicron cases were to increase, there could be staff shortages and community support services may need to scale back temporarily.

The letter, which was later subject of an apology from those government agencies, left many disabled people and their whānau concerned that they were being left on their own and not able to have their basic needs met.

Yet, in reading and rereading prime minister Jacinda Ardern’s announcement about “retiring” the COVID-19 protection framework, I see no reference to disabled people or whether the decisions are being made in a way that responds to the valid concerns shared by tāngata whaikaha during the Omicron response.

The Government’s COVID-19 website, referred to in Ms Ardern’s announcement, doesn’t help.

It provides general information about isolating, mask and vaccination mandates, and travel restrictions, but nothing about disability.

The new Whaikaha – Ministry of Disabled People, provides links to information, including to the Ministry of Health advice for carers who support friends, family, whānau and āiga who are unwell or who have a chronic health condition or disability.

However, a week after the end of the traffic light system, the Ministry of Health website carried a note that said: “This page is currently being reviewed following the end of the traffic light system on 12 September 2022.”

In July 2020, I reflected on New Zealand’s COVID response so far, as part of the RNZ Getting Better podcast series, hosted by my pal and doctor, Emma Espiner and produced by Noelle McCarthy.

I took some hope from author Arundhati Roy’s comments that “in the midst of this terrible despair, [COVID-19] offers us a chance to rethink the doomsday machine we have built for ourselves. Nothing could be worse than a return to normality”. But our collective thrill to go maskless makes me question this.

I still agree with one of my points at the time – that the changes to the health and disability system structures are one way to break with a “normality” that has failed Māori consistently. But my two nights out last month suggest to me people can’t wait to return to our pre-2020 ways, even when we know better.

I guess the pandemic is not actually over yet, and nor is our COVID-19 response, but the first week after the end of the traffic light system showed the urge to return to a time when we didn’t have to think of the public-health impacts of our nights out, is too alluring for most of us.

Gabrielle Baker (Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Kuri) is an independent health policy consultant