An immunocompromised All Hallows

What NOT getting COVID taught me about journalism's inconvenience tax

Early last week I learned I’d been exposed to someone who tested positive for COVID. Would I get sick, too? Muscle aches, listed as a symptom, could easily be attributed to the 5K I ran the day before. Home COVID tests were negative. How should I proceed?

A Colorado Medicaid phone line connected me to a nurse who said it was too soon to shed symptoms. She would connect me to dispatch and they could run a 48 hour PCR test. I could continue to leave the house for outdoor exercise. Otherwise I should continue to isolate and monitor for symptoms but if I had been infected with COVID, I probably wouldn’t start shedding till Thursday.

Thursday?? I needed to know before Thursday because of travel plans. Thursday was the first day of the Society of Professional Journalists 2022 conference. I would be out of town for it.

Yes, I’m immunocompromised. But I’m protected by whatever small handful of antibodies remain from my six-month Evusheld injections. I was boosted I was vaxxed. I mask, I distance, I sanitize. This was going to be my first national journalism conference since COVID. It was even taking place in my beloved hometown, Washington, DC.

The nurse put me on hold several times to confer with other members of her team and presumably to verify that the advise she was giving complied with public health recommendations. Out-of-state travel is not recommended for an immunocompromised person who had been exposed to COVID, I was informed.

Looking over at the stack of Binax boxes on my desk I wondered what I could do differently. I had enough negative COVID tests now to build a lollipop tree. This did not change the fact I was immunocompromised and I had been exposed to COVID.

The CDC’s bare bones and indirect advisory for people who are immunocompromised is to take additional precautious by isolating “at least 10 and up to 20 days” if you get COVID.

An October 19th statement from the Centers for for Disease Control (CDC) reads, “Some people who are immunocompromised (have a weakened immune system) are more likely to get sick with COVID-19 or be sick for a longer period.”

I thought about my neighborhood tailor helping me find a hem length that wouldn’t drag on concrete sidewalks when I wore my crisp new pin striped trousers to a meeting at a local patio cafe. I had even ordered KF94 masks in sage, navy and burgundy to pair with alternating button down tops that arrived on time.

Crimson, brown and gold maple trees would be lining DC letter streets. I’d be surrounded by new ideas and fresh new perspectives while re-familiarizing with the state avenues I grew up around and walking across the lawns of L’Enfant designed circles, full of bike couriers, bureaucrats and sound of dry leaves crunching beneath my feet.

The phone calls, messaging and deliberations were wearing on me. Did I even have the bandwidth to make an informed risk calculations sat this point? I double checked with the assistance of the clunky CDC bot that guides you through the “if you’ve been exposed” decision making process in the “if you’ve been exposed” section which had been updated as recently as October 19th.

The bot didn’t differentiate between immunocompromised and immunocompetent. Great. I thought of Rochelle Walensky, now sick with COVID, and her public statements about the immunocompromised. Going through the interface did inform me that a “high quality mask” COVID test on Saturday, October 29th was adequate. Should I follow the CDC bot’s recommendation and go to DC as originally planned? Technically speaking, even without a known COVID exposure, I would have been 100% public safety compliant, following the advice of said bot. I needed to trust it enough to make a public safety decision based on it, though. Did I?

What ended up happening was I took the advice of the humans on the Medicaid line and canceled my travel plans. I left home to go to running in the park (masked, obvi) and otherwise isolated, worked on this website, monitored for symptoms and continued to test negative everyday for the rest of the week. The doctor I had a video appointment with Halloween morning informed me I out of the danger zone and I did not have COVID.

SPJ’s dizzying array of swoon worthy training opportunities was uniquely appropriate. It is not easy to find this caliber of mid-career media training and mentorship. Especially not for professionals like freelancers and independent journalists. A lot of effort had gone into the planning and this was something I was and still am deeply appreciative of. Unfortunately no remote participation option had been put in place.

When I asked about obtaining access to panels, workshops and pitch meetings via zoom, an organizer said there was “no virtual element” because it was “just too difficult and expensive to do.”

Really? A national conference held in downtown Washington, DC Grand Hyatt, featuring a boat tour sponsored by the National Basketball association and featuring speakers like luminaries Woodward and Bernstein didn’t have the budget to accommodate me virtually?

Journalists with disabilities and chronic medical conditions are easy to marginalize even without the exclusivity but something this particular exclusion felt more caustic in this acerbic manifestation.

Pre-pandemic, it was easier to dismiss the integration of iphones and zoom rooms on ground of whatever seemed convenient, "exclusivity” or otherwise. Did eliminating a ticket holding attendee who wanted to participate remotely serve any purpose other than reinforcing systemic ableism?

Multimedia training and mentorship opportunities are coveted and competitive. Without creativity, flexibility, adaptability and interest in what perspectives immunocompromised writers have to offer, it will be hard to break the cycle.

Maybe this spring I’ll try to plan another trip to DC with the goal of catching up with friends on restaurant patios in Adams Morgan or visit the ellipse during that eerie near-night magic time when the sun hovers the tidal basin and the monument light switch on. There are so many ways to spend meaningful time with new and old friends in shared spaces.

I’m looking ahead to in-person conferences and training opportunities for next year because I value in person experience enough to plan in advance and, when necessary, find creative ways to participate.

If you are organizing an event that you want to take to the next level, I encourage you to get some immunocompromised and COVID-cautious perspectives on the space and the activities. You might end up with selling points that had never occurred to you.

That MediaFest22 Odyssey DC boat cruise on The Potomac, for example could have included outdoor food and beverage options. I had gone to the boat website, clicked on images to determine whether or it was the kind of deck you could bring your dinner or cocktail out on. It was hard to tell from their website whether it was sviable option or not so when I didn’t hear back I took the chance and went ahead and bought the ticket for the supplementary event also. Another prepaid expense down the Metro grate. welp!

My scariest Halloween activity ended up being publishing this story and updating the “About” section of this newsletter. After agonizing for weeks, putting it aside, revising and agonizing over the next round of edits I finally had something to publish again.

This doesn’t mean I wont get stuck again. I ask difficult questions and am looking to eventually broadcast immunocompromised and COVID-cautious experiences that are different from my own. What is life like for the clinically vulnerable who do not have work-at-home options. How do I tell the stories of people who do not have access to resources as basic as access to good ventilation and N95 masks?

There are enough stories, modifications and grievances in this 3% of the population community to perform a Bach fugue but I need to start with the resources I have at hand. Immunocompromised Times is in its nascency.

The word “immunocompromised” is medical nomenclature. As a non-medical professional I am not qualified to challenge the current CDC definition of “immunocompromised” nor do I wish to. I bring this up because, despite its exclusive definition, its relevance and value is not exclusive to the immunocompromised.

In the end, my clarity and focus was heightened by the opportunity I was excluded from. Consequently, I did manage to complete the About section of this newsletter and to resume reporting regularly.

Centering the immunocompromised experience does not have to mean exclusivity. My reporting is also relevant to the science informed person is COVID-cautious by choice as well as the person interested in making the spaces we share accessible to everyone.

If immunocompromised journalists continue to get shut out of professional development opportunities what is at stake? Hopefully we will not have to find out.

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