Science matters

I wrote this in 2020. It is a LONG story. The message – science matters.

Peer-reviewed, reproducible research matters. Public health protection measures matter. Universities matter. Learning from events, matters.

Just think, in 40 years, what will we know about virology, epidemiology, public health and SARS-Cov2, that we don’t know now? (Not to mention, this missive was written by a trypanophobic who had just done the second Covid-19 vaccination at the time of writing.)

All the way back in 1983, nearly 40 years ago, I was 11 years old, and a member of St John’s, working my way through the tasks required for badges and ranks. The Maryborough brigade regularly had weekend events; I recall one where I was tasked with makeup, creating ‘injuries’ with plasticine, clay and cosmetics. I remember another when a higher-up, maybe regional commander, was doing an inspection of capability.

The one I distinctly remember was a day where people came in to Maryborough from all around, for a mass skill demonstration day.

Now back in 1983, we didn’t have PPE. Expired air resuscitation was done on dummies, one person after another, and I recall the only reason for a wipe down was if lipstick had been left on the dummy.

About a week after that day, I started getting sick. It was autumn, and it was sunny with a chilly westerly breeze that made the sunlight seem thin. Mother had been a nurse in the 1930s and 1940s, so she was fairly confident about managing illnesses in our little family. It took about another week for her to take me in to the doc.

He asked me to cough, I did, and I still remember the startled look on his face and the way he sat back. Whooping cough in an 11 year old girl is not, apparently, your typical presentation for whooping cough, in 1983.

I wasn’t hospitalised, in case I infected the other children on the ward. So my care fell to my parents, with home visits from Dr Koch. (Home GP visits, remember them?) Father had retired earlier that year.

I remember A LOT about that time. I remember struggling to breath. I remember mother’s panicked phone calls to the doctor when I started turning blue. I remember Dr Koch turning up in the middle of the night, many times. I remember my father crying at just how ill I was, when he was on night watch with me and thought I was asleep. I remember the palsy brought on by the cough medicine. I remember the rash from the antibiotics, and the horrible taste of flat lemonade. I remember hearing the doc say that they could have put me in hospital, after all, as there was apparently a local epidemic of kids with whooping cough. I remember not being able to get up, I was so weak; I had to be carried to the toilet. I remember the other indignities, and, ye gods, I remember what that phlegm was like.

I think I lost around half my body weight, because after, a lot of clothes didn’t fit well.

My report card said 65 days sick from school. I had been off for 13 weeks – 3 months.

Let’s pick this apart. Yes, I was vaccinated, but knowing what we know now, a booster shot was needed. No resuscitstion mask for EAR dummies, again, not knowing then what we know now. Not admitting a seriously ill child to hospital; can you imagine the outcry these days? Giving a child the adult dosage of medicines? Again, what we know now. There are many little snippets in that tale that you can pick apart.

My anecdotal evidence does not cancel out research data and findings.

So just think, in 40 years, what will we know about virology, epidemiology, public health and SARS-Cov2, that we don’t know now?

That is the value of science and peer-reviewed research. This is the value of universities. This is the value of universal health care.