Read the Latest from the Blog!

Yes Please!

Welcome to the Blog

During COVID-19 Healers Need Healing Too

During COVID-19 Healers Need Healing Too

A physician’s suicide reminds us that the plague of COVID-19 creates deep emotional wounds in health care workers

One of the oldest tales in the history of medicine is the story of the archetypal “wounded healer,” Chiron. As legend goes, Chiron, an immortal centaur, who both taught medicine and served as a physician, attended a gathering hosted by another centaur named Pholus. After a series of events involving other centaurs fighting over wine, Heracles (aka Hercules), in his attempt to intervene, accidentally unleashed a poisoned arrow that hit Chiron’s knee. Chiron, being immortal, was forced to endure unbearable pain. 


Despite his ability to heal others, Chiron was unable to heal himself. Filled with shame, he retreated back to his cave, still committed to teaching his disciples. Eventually, after nine days, his pain became unbearable and Chiron requested that Zeus remove his immortality so he could die. Though a myth, it serves as the first documented story of a physician suicide, albeit assisted, and suggests that the challenge of healing our healers stretches back centuries.


The recent suicide of Lorna Breen, an accomplished and compassionate physician, researcher, colleague, friend, sister and daughter, after she served on the front lines of a busy New York City emergency department, reminds us that the plague of COVID-19 also creates deep emotional wounds in health care workers. As her father Philip Breen described her, she“was like the fireman who runs into the burning building to save another life and doesn’t regard anything about herself.” Her death was not due to COVID-19; it was due to a system and culture of hospital medicine that failed to value her as a human beyond her profession.

Right now, COVID-19 is a stress test, exposing the vulnerabilities in our financial, social welfare and health care systems. But it’s also a catalyst, giving rise to novel solutions such as providing a guaranteed basic income, expanding blood donation eligibility, reducing bureaucracy in hospitals and encouraging partnerships between tech companies. As such, it must also be a catalyst for improving medical culture so that one day no physician is forced to choose suicide as a result of an inability to cope or seek healing for themselves.

Awareness of the suicide epidemic plaguing the profession has gained ground over the last five years. Doctors have the highest suicide rate of any profession: about 300 doctors die each year in the United States (the size of a typical medical school student body). Effectively, suicide has now become an occupational hazard of the profession. But it’s also the canary in a coal mine serving as a warning for an overwhelmed and unhealthy system, one that doesn’t care for its doctors.

One thing is painfully clear: physician suicide isn’t about resilience. Doctors by definition are resilient; we must be to jump through many hoops to gain admission, serve on long overnight calls often without food, water or sleep, and work unreasonable work hours, often with an inadequate support system. Sadly the overemphasis on individual resilience at the expense of ensuring the work environment is healthy has placed the onus on doctors themselves—which is nothing more than victim-blaming.

While substance use and mental illness may be factors, many doctors do not have a diagnosed mental health disorder like depression and anxiety. This may, in part, be due to stigma around seeking a formal diagnosis, but we also know that symptoms of depression are wildly dependent on the environment; the influence of our situation on our reactions has been understood by sociologists for decades.

While things like mindfulness help to a degree, it’s a lot like expecting a soldier to meditate while bombs are being dropped all around her. The priority must instead be to get that soldier into a safe space with a battalion she can rely on, with the appropriate protective gear. Putting an otherwise healthy person, someone who is driven, intelligent, empathetic, in an environment that is not conducive to her well-being will place additional pressures on her with little room to thrive, or possibly even survive. The consequences can be disastrous, but are not surprising.

The problem of physician suicide is so deep, and the role of culture so paramount, that pontificating on solutions often feels futile, especially as the issue isn’t so much what the solutions are, but how to actualize them.

Culture must change from the top down, and this takes sound policies and commitment. Policies must include limits on work hours, time for self-care, and zero tolerance for bullying and harassment. We must also increase psychological safety (defined by Harvard scholar Amy Edmondson as “a climate in which people are comfortable expressing and being themselves”), a matter that is a pressing issue during the pandemic, as with the firing of doctors in Mississippi who have voiced concerns.

We should also ensure that all physician health programs are free of conflict of interest, completely divorced from licensing bodies, and accessible both geographically and financially. During a crisis especially, as we know from humanitarian aid workers, reentry trauma is common, and so access to these programs now is paramount in order to offset the risk of suffering alone. Isolation is an unsafe breeding ground for trauma, anxiety, and unprocessed grief.

Beyond telling the story of Chiron’s death, the ancient Greeks came to see suicide as primarily due to malfunctional “humors”—the end result of the build-up of black bile (melancholia) or yellow bile (mania). The beauty of medical knowledge is that it evolves; so too must our understanding. We must take lessons from as far back as Chiron, and as recently as Lorna Breen, to understand that environmental factors matter much more than the individual. Breen’s passing during this pandemic offers us a moment to reflect on how best to use our outrage and mourning, as patients and physicians, to finally move out of the clouds of ignorance, willful blindness and institutional inertia to prevent the same tragedy for repeating itself.

Once Chiron died, he left two legacies. The first was in those he taught: like the father of medicine, Asclepius, who in turn was said to have taught Hippocrates. Thousands of medical students take the Hippocratic oath each year. The second legacy, according to the poet Ovid, was through a gift from Zeus, who wanted to ensure Chiron’s spirit lived on in the night sky, so he created the constellation Centaurus—what may now be viewed a literal interpretation of the saying per aspera ad astra (“through hardship, to the stars”).

It shines brightest during the month of May. This year it might remind us of the thousands of physicians who took their own lives while healing others—some during this pandemic—doctors who might inspire us to finally change direction. And for Breen, as one of those bright stars, may we also vow to honor you as the hero you were, illuminating our path forward.

If you are having thoughts of suicide, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 (TALK) or go to SpeakingOfSuicide.com/resources for a list of additional resources. Here’s what you can do when a loved one is severely depressed. For physicians on the front lines expressing mental distress or suicidal thoughts, or who just wish to talk, call the Physician Support Line 1-888-409-0141, which is open 8am to 3am ET, seven days a week, and provides free and confidential support with a volunteer psychiatrist.

**Originally published in Scientific American**

Us, Interrupted: What Sophia Bush Is Learning About Self-Care Right Now

Us, Interrupted: What Sophia Bush Is Learning About Self-Care Right Now

Us, Interrupted is a series that focuses on public figures as well as professionals on the front lines of the COVID-19 global pandemic. During this unprecedented crisis, we hope these stories of vulnerability and resilience will help us move forward, stronger together.

Sophia Bush is an American actress, activist, and entrepreneur. She is a member of the Directors Guild of America and has starred in various independent projects, shows, and movies such as John Tucker Must Die, Incredibles 2, One Tree Hill, Dick Wolf’s Chicago PD, and This is Us and has joined the cast of the upcoming show Love, Victor. Bush also co-founded and sits on the board for the public awareness campaign “I am a voter,” which promotes awareness of registration tools and encourages all to use their resources to participate in the voting process. Most recently, Bush launched a podcast, Work in Progress, which features frank conversations with people who inspire her about how they’ve gotten to where they are.

We spoke to Bush about how her normally busy life has been changed by the impact of COVID-19 and why she’s learning to not expect too much from herself while staying home.

1. What was your life like before we learned about COVID-19, in terms of your self-care and maintaining a sense of well-being?

I’ve always struggled with routine since on set there is no such thing. Some days I have a 4:15 a.m. call time, and some days I go to work at 6 p.m. and film until the next day at 8 a.m. So I think I’ve always been enamored with people’s routines and looked at them with total fascination. In recent years, I’ve really tried to examine how to create routine.

Read more at MindBodyGreen.

Us, Interrupted: Working On the Front Lines Of COVID-19 As A Hospital Pediatrician & Medical Ethicist

Us, Interrupted: Working On the Front Lines Of COVID-19 As A Hospital Pediatrician & Medical Ethicist

Us, Interrupted is a series that focuses on public figures as well as professionals on the front lines of the COVID-19 global pandemic. During this unprecedented crisis, we hope these stories of vulnerability and resilience will help us move forward, stronger together.

Rachel Pearson, M.D., Ph.D., is a hospital pediatrician and assistant professor of medical humanities in San Antonio, Texas. Through the Center for Medical Humanities and Ethics, she runs the website known as “Pan Pals,” which uses the humanities and allied disciplines to help preserve compassion, justice, and humanitarian values through and beyond the pandemic.

When we spoke to Pearson, she explained the way that her life as a doctor, a medical ethicist, and a newly expectant mother has been affected by the COVID-19 outbreak:

1. What was your life like before we learned about COVID-19, in terms of your self-care and maintaining a sense of well-being in and out of the hospital?
I was settling into a new job in a new city, and I had just found out that I was pregnant for the first time. I had made some friends, and one of my most important ways of caring for myself was going for walks in the evenings with a girlfriend. I would meet my friend Christy halfway between our houses, and we’d walk around the neighborhood with her two dogs.

In the hospital, one of the big joys of my new job was finding that I had lots of time to spend with my patients and their families, as well as with my residents. I could go from room to room in the afternoons and just sit down and check in with worried parents and sick kids. The human connection that comes from that time, as well as the knowledge that I was getting to practice medicine in a way I believe in, gave me a lot of peace and brought a lot of meaning into my life. I also knew that, with my own kid on the way, I would soon have a reason to want to leave the hospital as soon as possible—so, I was really relishing that deep time with my patients and families.

Read more on MindBodyGreen.

Us, Interrupted: How I’m Shifting My Mindset Right Now, From The Founder Of TOMS

Us, Interrupted: How I’m Shifting My Mindset Right Now, From The Founder Of TOMS

Us, Interrupted is a series that focuses on public figures as well as professionals on the front lines of the COVID-19 global pandemic. During this unprecedented crisis, we hope these stories of vulnerability and resilience will help us move forward, stronger together.

Blake Mycoskie is an entrepreneur, author, and philanthropist and the founder and chief shoe giver of TOMS. Since beginning with shoes, the brand has expanded to eyewear and a coffee roasting company that partners with other organizations that provide safe water in seven counties. His most recent project, Madefor, launched recently and aims to improve our brains and bodies with neuroscience, psychology, and physiology.

Here, mindbodygreen spoke to Mycoskie about transitioning to life during COVID-19 as an individual and as a business leader, and how he’s taking control of his experience and finding the good that he can:

1. What was your life like before we learned about COVID-19, in terms of your self-care and maintaining a sense of well-being?

How I start my day plays a big role in how I experience life. My morning routine begins around 5:30 a.m. and consists of a mix of contemplation, prayer, basic body movements, and a tea ceremony. There isn’t anything magical about my 30-minute routine, but I find there is magic in an intentional start to the day. It helps me be more present and leads to better decisions. Each day, I try to find the right mix of quality time with my children and friends, outdoor physical activities like surfing or climbing, and meaningful work. I’m at my best if I invest in these three areas on a daily basis.

Read more on MindBodyGreen.

Us, Interrupted: How Television Host Tommy DiDario Is Adapting His Regimen To COVID-19

Us, Interrupted: How Television Host Tommy DiDario Is Adapting His Regimen To COVID-19

Us, Interrupted is a series that focuses on public figures as well as professionals on the front lines of the COVID-19 global pandemic. During this unprecedented crisis, we hope these stories of vulnerability and resilience will help us move forward, stronger together.

Tommy Didario is a television host and on-air lifestyle expert who has appeared on The Rachael Ray Show, The Today Show, and Entertainment Tonight. He covers everything from celebrity interviews to human interest stories to lifestyle topics in the fashion, trends, grooming, travel, health, fitness, and wellness worlds.

We spoke to Didario about how his formerly regimented lifestyle has been changed by the COVID-19 outbreak and how he’s doing his part to slow its spread.

1. What was your life like before we learned about COVID-19, in terms of your self-care and maintaining a sense of well-being?

I was very regimented. I get up at 5:30 a.m. every day, and I do a 20-minute yoga session. Then I’d head to the gym for a workout and come back to have breakfast before getting to work. With my work, which is in the entertainment/lifestyle business, I never know what the day is going to look like, so getting my core “me” time in early on is key. And living in New York City, I crave my outdoor time, so I’d make a point to walk to any meetings that might be a 20-minute or less walk. I also enjoyed writing for fun or work—it was a creative outlet for me—and reading. Eating healthfully with a balanced diet was also important.

Read more in MindBodyGreen.

Us, Interrupted: How This Internist Is Responding To The Impact Of COVID-19

Us, Interrupted: How This Internist Is Responding To The Impact Of COVID-19

Us, Interrupted is a series that focuses on public figures as well as professionals on the front lines of the COVID-19 global pandemic. During this unprecedented crisis, we hope these stories of vulnerability and resilience will help us move forward, stronger together.

Mark Shapiro, M.D., is an internist and the associate medical director for hospital services with St. Joseph Health Medical Group in Sonoma County, California. He is also the creator and host of the Explore the Space podcast, which considers the relationship between health care and society.

We spoke with Shapiro about working in the medical field during the COVID-19 outbreak and how it’s affected his work and personal life.

1. What was your life like before we learned about COVID-19, in terms of your self-care and maintaining a sense of well-being in and out of the hospital?

I was in a pretty good place balancing family life, my clinical and leadership work, Explore the Space podcast, and my own self-care. Keeping an exercise routine, good nutrition, reasonable sleep, and having fun were things I was feeling more and more comfortable with.

Read more in MindBodyGreen.

Us, Interrupted: How Uché Blackstock, MD, Is Taking Care Of Herself While Caring For Others

Us, Interrupted: How Uché Blackstock, MD, Is Taking Care Of Herself While Caring For Others

Us, Interrupted is a series that focuses on public figures as well as professionals on the front lines of the COVID-19 global pandemic. During this unprecedented crisis, we hope these stories of vulnerability and resilience will help us move forward, stronger together.

Uché Blackstock, M.D., is busy. She is the mother of two small children, the founder and CEO of Advancing Health Equity, and an emergency medicine physician working on the front lines of the COVID-19 pandemic in New York City.

We spoke to Blackstock about a life working in medicine during the pandemic, and how she’s balancing caring for herself, her children, and her patients during these unprecedented times.

What was your life like before we learned about COVID-19, in terms of your self-care and maintaining a sense of well-being in and out of the hospital?

To be honest, it’s hard to remember what life was like before the COVID-19 pandemic hit NYC. I’ve been immersed in the crisis for the last two weeks caring for patients in urgent care clinics in central Brooklyn. As a parent, practicing physician, and the CEO of my own consulting firm, I’ll admit that finding the time for self-care has been quite challenging for me. I try to eat healthy and to maintain a healthy exercise schedule. Before COVID19, I took up journaling, especially in the evenings to decompress before I fell asleep. I also consider self-care to be maintaining my connections with my loved ones and friends, so I try to be intentional about finding meaningful time to spend with them.

Read more in MindBodyGreen.

Us, Interrupted: How Writer Charles Yu Is Adapting To COVID-19 With His Family

Us, Interrupted: How Writer Charles Yu Is Adapting To COVID-19 With His Family

Us, Interrupted is a series that focuses on public figures as well as professionals on the front lines of the COVID-19 global pandemic. During this unprecedented crisis, we hope these stories of vulnerability and resilience will help us move forward, stronger together.

Charles Yu is a writer of fiction and nonfiction whose writing has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, including Slate, Esquire, Wired, and New York Times Style Magazine. He has also written for television, including HBO’s Westworld. Yu’s newest book, Interior Chinatown, was released in February 2020. His first book, How To Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe, was named a New York Times Notable Book and listed as one of the best books of 2010 by Time magazine.

Here, Yu shares with us how he and his family are adapting to life during COVID-19: with exercise, getting outside, and maintaining connection with loved ones online, as well as the challenges of self-care during this difficult time:

1. What was your life like before we learned about COVID-19, in terms of your self-care and maintaining a sense of well-being?
It actually wasn’t that different from my life now. Since 2014, I’ve been writing full-time (after having been a lawyer for many years), and although I have worked in a number of TV writers’ rooms (for the past couple of years, I have been lucky enough to be writing scripts in development), I have been working from home.

My day-to-day routine is get up, walk my dog, pour coffee, and write. I tried to exercise at least three times a week, either a class or a 3- to 4-mile walk. My wife ordered some home exercise stuff (resistance bands and floor sliders), so we can try to get workouts in while isolated at home.

Read more in MindBodyGreen.

Us, Interrupted: How Soledad O’Brien Prioritizes Well-Being Amid COVID-19

Us, Interrupted: How Soledad O’Brien Prioritizes Well-Being Amid COVID-19

Us, Interrupted is a series that focuses on public figures as well as professionals on the front lines of the COVID-19 global pandemic. During this unprecedented crisis, we hope these stories of vulnerability and resilience will help us move forward, stronger together.

Soledad O’Brien is a powerhouse. As the CEO of Starfish Media Group, host of the show Matter of Fact, and an award-winning broadcast journalist, she is used to busy days. She also started the PowHERful Foundation with her husband, supporting women in their journey to higher education.

Here, she shares with us how she and her family are adapting to life during COVID-19: with schedules, long walks, and how it has affected her physical and emotional well-being.

What was your life like before we learned about COVID-19, in terms of your self-care & maintaining a sense of well-being?
I don’t think I was very good at self-care. I travel a lot for work, and it’s easy to get exhausted. I tried my best to get six to eight hours of sleep and avoid red-eye flights as much as possible. The main thing was eating well and trying to get enough sleep.

In terms of other aspects of my well-being, a big part of it for me was needing to feel “useful,” as in getting stuff done. I’m a box checker, and I’d feel good knowing if I got everything on my list done. I never found much relaxation in cooking, but I’d volunteer to clean up, for instance; that would help me feel like I was being useful.

Read more in MindBodyGreen.

Uncertainty in a Time of Coronavirus

Uncertainty in a Time of Coronavirus

Here’s why communicating public health risk during an epidemic is so challenging

Ann, a friend and mentor in her 50s, exclaimed over coffee at the end of January: “You know, Amazon is sold out of medical masks. You just can’t get any now. But I’m going upstate this weekend, so I should have better luck there.” I looked at her quizzically. At the time, the World Health Organization (WHO) had not yet announced that the newly named disease COVID-19 (formerly known as 2019-nCoV), caused by the virus SARS-CoV-2 (or simply “coronavirus”) was a Public Health Emergency of International Concern (PHEIC), but this announcement was delayed for several days. Besides, masks should only be reserved for people with symptoms.


Ann is an intellectual, someone who doesn’t easily head into panic mode (this helped her in her law career immensely, and later as a CEO and business leader). But in that moment, she had made up her mind: the masks would be a prudent thing to purchase, despite the lack of indication that they were needed. Effectively, Ann was hedging on the idea that, with the messages she received through the media and her friends, it would be better to be more conservative and overly prepared for the worst, given the potential consequences of being underprepared.

It immediately struck me that, despite being trained in both epidemiology and medicine, I wasn’t entirely sure what to advise Ann at the time: the messages I had received, and articles I had read, were no more consistent. There was still much uncertainty around the coronavirus in terms of how serious it was projected to be and what ordinary citizens could do to minimize risk. We all make decisions every day despite uncertainty, and when emotions come into play it can make things trickier.

But when it comes to public health, where the risks of sending the “wrong” message can have devasting consequences—unnecessary anxiety on the one hand (which can take an immense psychological toll) and thousands of unnecessary deaths on the other. To me, one thing is clear: the messaging around coronavirus thus far has been far from ideal, which suggests that uncertainty in a public health emergency is a wrench that can have devastating consequences if it isn’t harnessed appropriately.

Coronavirus is a moving target, as most epidemics are. As a Canadian, I watched with curiosity when Canadian airports decided on January 17 not to screen travelers for coronavirus (the effectiveness of screening is debatable, but the U.S. had already mandated it). But this then changed a mere one day later. The messaging was all over the place: “We thought it wasn’t necessary, but oops, now it might be.” Initially, the WHO wasn’t as concerned: the information and data about coronavirus wasn’t enough to call it an “emergency,” perhaps in part because the institution was reliant on a whole host of assumptions, such as the accuracy of data from China, a country not exactly known for transparency (with some noting the government may have purposely misled the public).

Gradually, the WHO became more concerned, finally on January 30 labelling coronavirus as a PHEIC, which implies a seriousness and a whole other set of other measures should be taken. Now countries as far and wide as Italy, Iran, Korea, and Spain are reporting a high concentration of cases. As of Wednesday, February 26, over 2,700 people had died worldwide from coronavirus since December and over 81,000 were infected globally. To put that in perspective, the SARS epidemic of 2003, which began in November 2002, infected over 8,000 people and led to 774 deaths in a period of six months.

Today the core messages remain unclear. For instance, the WHO has refused to officially advise no travel to China, but the U.S. State Department made this advisory earlier this month. For weeks we also received mixed messaging about human-human transmission, which is now clear, and more disturbingly that it can occur even when someone isn’t symptomatic (though it is rare). Even epidemiologists had trouble deciding how bad it really is. One reason is that a traditional data point in epidemiology, the R0 value, which is the average number of people an infected person is expected to transmit a disease to, is limited in its predictability.

Still, several doctors and public health professionals have taken to social media to remind the world that the flu kills more, as an attempt to dissuade fears, but COVID-19 is more severe, not just in its the ability to send more affected persons into intensive care (like SARS), and that it can kill even young and healthy hosts (as opposed to the more vulnerable who are more affected by the flu), and by most accounts has a higher case fatality rate (the proportion of those with the virus who die), somewhere around 2 percent (though this rate may be lower—0.7 percent—outside of China’s Hubei province) compared to the flu (which has a case fatality rate of around 0.1 percent).

All of this whiplash points to one perhaps uncomfortable thing: no one really knows how bad COVID-19 is, and how much damage it could eventually lead to. We know from postmortems of how SARS and Ebola were approached—both epidemics that provided an opportunity for bodies like the WHO and the Centers for Disease Control to learn from (the CDC provided a report on their Ebola response, and the WHO released a report on outbreak communication immediately after SARS)—that waiting too long to sound the alarm can be disastrous. We also know that the early predictions were based on assuming that China was being transparent and honest about their situational assessment, something we now understand was not the case.

I recently spoke with Kathryn Bertram, of the Johns Hopkins Center for Communication Programs (JHU CCP), who pointed me to the extended parallel process model as a helpful starting point to examine public health messaging during an epidemic. It considers both our rational reactions and emotional reactions (primarily fear) to help determine the best course of action for behavior. On the rational end, we must ask ourselves about “efficacy”—this refers to the effectiveness of a solution (for instance wearing a face mask or avoiding travel to China) and well as our perceptions on how as individuals we can institute this solution effectively. On the emotional end, we ask ourselves about the severity—how severe might it be if we, as individuals were infected, as well as susceptibility (how likely we might contract it).

Herein lies the issue: the perceived threat rests largely on the information we receive from experts. If the threat is high, we make decisions to take protective action. If we are told that the threat is low or even trivial, we are less motivated to protect ourselves even if we have the resources to do so. When an epidemic is underway, uncertainty can create fertile ground for mixed messages and inconsistency, which in itself can breed mistrust and fear.

Reflecting back to my conversation with Ann, I’m reminded of Annie Duke’s book Thinking in Bets, in which she makes a persuasive argument that, as individuals, we’re often required to make decisions based on having incomplete information. Duke uses the analogy of poker, where decisions are made based on an uncertain future. A good decision, despite this uncertainty, rests on whether we use the right process to come to that decision.

As individuals, we also benefit from thinking back to situations where we may have chosen one way but felt if we had a similar choice again we would choose differently, so our memories play a role as well (and arguably for public health we can rely on our collective memory from other coronavirus epidemics, like SARS). She likens our decisions to bets: given the information available to us, along with our memories of how past decisions panned out, and acknowledging that some of the outcome is due to chance, what might be the best choice to make that would most likely provide the most benefit for our future selves?

Bertram underscores the core risk communication principles, which can also be applied to media covering the epidemic: communicate often, communicate what is and isn’t known clearly, and provide simple action items for individuals to take (so things like handwashing).

Similarly, public health stakeholders should communicate what is and isn’t known, coordinate messages to help ensure consistency, and perhaps most importantly, acknowledge that their views (and thus their messaging) may change quickly; thankfully more recently media organizations are choosing to express this uncertainty and a recent op-ed in the New York Times underscores many of these principles, as “people react more rationally and show greater resilience to a full-blown crisis if they are prepared intellectually and emotionally for it.” The authors also urge that we consider using the term “pandemic” (though the WHO is not yet comfortable with this).

Effectively, while the WHO still presents a hopeful view, it and other organizations played poker on a global scale—and the chips they were playing belonged to entire communities. Their decisions and messages matter, and on balance, it might be best to bet that the consequences of underestimating the severity of the pandemic may be worse than overestimating it. The alternative, which brings to mind the dog meme “this is fine,” could lead to both distrust and potentially thousands of unnecessary deaths. It seems that, despite the WHO finally conceding that COVID-19 continues to poses a “grave threat” to the world and may qualify as the long-dreaded “disease X,” the briefing yesterday remained vague and hesitant, and even domestic messaging about whether the virus is contained or spreading continues to be inconsistent. Some have even suggested we finally accept that COVID-19 may be “unstoppable.” Clearly, we’re still down a few chips.


**Originally published in Scientified American, on February 26 2020**