The Last Mask On: How SARS-CoV-2 Changed My Life Without Even Touching Me.
My encounter with SARS-CoV-2 at work was abrupt. On Monday, March 9th, 2020, my boss called to say he would stay home out of caution due to a mild fever. The following day, lockdown was announced, and we all began working from home. By the weekend, my boss was admitted to the local hospital’s emergency room, where he would remain for two months in intensive care, unconscious and intubated. Initially, I feared I had been infected (fortunately, I hadn’t). The uncertainty about my boss’s fate lingered much longer, as I became the sole liaison between his wife and our coworkers, sharing what little information I received.
During that period of emergency, very terrifying even though somehow sweet, I started reading about COVID on Twitter, connecting with many other people, choosing to follow the more sensible, scientifically-oriented and rational voices, eventually joining-in a community which would grow and keep me well-informed through the following years, up until now (having recently mostly moved to Bluesky…).
After an extended period of remote work, we returned to the office, all wearing masks, “protected” by a massive set of safety measures: plexiglass barriers, spaced-out seats in the canteen, two-lane corridors, disinfectant gel everywhere, increase in cleaning staff disinfecting handles and desks, flexible work-from-home arrangements, elbow sneezing. We were shooting strong but we were shooting wrong. We didn’t know yet, but we were mainly shooting wrong. At the beginning very little was known and clear. Even masks, the one potentially effective tool among our arsenal, were largely misused—most of us wore surgical or fabric masks because they “could let you breathe better,” while remaining unaware that properly fitted FFP2/FFP3 respirators, even though initially scarce and prohibitively expensive, were what we would have truly needed.
Then came the so-called “end of COVID”, brought by extensive vaccination and dearly supported by strong economic interests and by the Great Barrington declaration.
Meanwhile, scientific understanding had advanced significantly, with many researchers accurately explaining SARS-CoV-2’s nature, but nobody would listen anymore. Mainstream media kept on repeating the new dogma: COVID had become “just like the flu,” the pandemic was over, only “weak” people could be seriously affected. Only through my COVID-aware Twitter community could I learn that COVID is airborne and that long COVID is an important problem.
The initial protective measures, right or wrong, were to stay for a very long time, at work and everywhere. But none of the subsequently proven evidence-based protective measures became mainstream. They missed the magic moment when government would care and people would listen. Consequently, we never saw comprehensive clean-air initiatives in public spaces, proper ventilation and air filtration in schools, systematic wastewater surveillance for infection monitoring, or risk-based activation of public health measures. Mask requirements disappeared entirely, even in hospitals and crowded venues. No coordinated effort was made to maintain Rt below 1 and truly end the pandemic.
For the first time in my life, I personally experienced the extreme power of social media. I trusted my twitter community composed of scientists and rational thinkers who consistently shared links to respected scientific publications – Nature, The Lancet, BMJ – journals I’d known since I was a child, my mum being a biologist. I am not a scientist myself (I am an engineer) but I can grasp the gist of what I read. Especially when I read it hundreds of times, in different articles, across multiple credible sources. COVID is still among us, in a pandemic form, and it is still very dangerous, more silently but massively. It can damage every organ of our bodies. It is dangerous for everyone, strong or weak, young or old.
Only thanks to my COVID-conscious Twitter community am I still taking precautions against SARS-CoV-2. But in my town and in my workplace I am literally the only one. From the COVID experience I have learned that we are mainly, and strongly so, social animals. We are just feeling safe doing what the fellows around us are doing. In my physical environment, people have reverted to pre-2019 behaviors. But in my Twitter (now Bluesky) world they are still caring. And I am completely divided and torn amid these two communities, being a social being myself, navigating membership in both worlds.
Each workday, I wear my conspicuous 3M Aura FFP2 mask for eight hours. I’ve abandoned the cafeteria, choosing instead to eat lunch in the nearby fire-escape stairwell. I share an office with three colleagues and attempt to maintain ventilation by opening windows, but I seem to be much more cold-resistant than my co-workers. I think I became so in these years of tentative outdoor-only social life. To minimize friction, I use an Aranet4 to monitor CO2 levels and optimize air quality without continuously keeping the windows open (which I would do if I were alone).
I do take coffees with my colleagues during breaks, but always opening a window nearby while sipping.
It is not easy. It is becoming more and more difficult. It is difficult to be a supervisor with a mask. It is difficult to socialize and network while being the strange one. It is difficult to decline every invitation to work lunches and parties. It is difficult being the sole mask-wearer among 2.500 employees.
I no longer try to speak my mind out. Nobody will listen. The social bias is too strong. Science is not a reference for most people.
Recently, the directional markers that once guided COVID-safe foot traffic through our office corridors have been removed. While this particular charade is finally over, I continue to struggle with each workday, longing for a new job that would allow me to work outdoors.
Why do I persist? Perhaps I do not know, some days I really don’t. But perhaps it is because I feel that behind the COVID-conscious accounts I follow are wonderful human beings – a community whose only shortcoming is not living in my town or working alongside me in my workplace – and they may be right about this SARS-CoV-2 thing. Even though I hope they, we, are not.
Luca Bricarelli
Genoa, Italy, 18/12/2024
