My fears about US trip during coronavirus outbreak

WITH a long flight to the US imminent, I have been scouring my bookshelves for suitable reading. Given the situation with coronavirus, my eye was immediately drawn to A Journal of the Plague Year, Daniel Defoe’s fictionalised account of 1665, the year bubonic plague started to rage its way through London for the final time.

Published in 1722 and meticulously researched, it is both a gripping yarn and a fascinating insight into the psychology of a pandemic. I’m not sure whether it is of comfort or concern that so many of Defoe’s observations about how fear is used and abused, how truth becomes impossible to discern amid rumour, lies and conspiracy, remain accurate today. Like most folk I know,

I’ve stayed fairly sanguine about the virus so far. I’ve been keeping track of expert public health advice while wincing at Boris Johnson’s lack of authority and focus. My cupboards are not filled with pasta, toilet rolls or hand sanitiser.

The more I read about the situation in the US, however, the more worried and uncertain I become about our long-planned trip to spend time with my husband’s elderly grandmother in Arkansas. Should we keep calm and carry on or cancel?

You could never have imagined even five years ago that the day would come when you wouldn’t be able to trust information coming out of the world’s richest, most technologically advanced country with regards to a global public health threat. But that’s where we’re at.

Back then, of course, Donald Trump was nothing more than the perma-tanned star of trashy TV show The Apprentice. Now President Trump’s handling of the crisis is arguably as worrying as the virus itself, revealing a disregard for the American people – never mind the rest of humanity – that is breathtaking.

Coronavirus plays into the things Mr Trump and his base hate most, of course, such as science and experts. The fact that there are millions of lives at stake apparently changes nothing. We know that the President often uses provocative, confusing, contrary and paranoid language as a weapon, but describing the virus as a “hoax” invented by his political enemies surely takes his narcissism to a whole new level.

And that’s just a flavour of the madness. Amid a sharp increase in cases in the US, he is claiming the virus has been “closed down”, adding “we stopped it”. He called the World Health Organisation’s projection that there will be a 3.4 per cent mortality rate “false”, saying he had a “hunch” it would be “very mild” and suggested those who had the disease could continue

President Trump’s handling of the crisis is arguably as worrying as the virus itself

going to work. Mr Trump, who admitted over the weekend he didn’t realise people could die of flu (despite his own grandfather succumbing) keeps repeating that a vaccine is “very close”. Scientists – sometimes sitting right next to him at the time – continue to insist a 12 to 18-month timeframe is more realistic. I know who I believe.

But it doesn’t really matter what I or anyone else outside of America believes. If you’re a Trump supporter who watches only Fox News, chances are you’re not going to see any point in self-isolating or getting tested. After all, your President says everything is under control.

The very least any citizen can expect in a situation like this is transparency: to be able to have some level of confidence in what your health ministry tells you. Neither of these things exist in the US at the moment. And this will only increase the anger, hysteria and prominence of conspiracy theories in an already divided and paranoid nation. The wider context of the US situation is also very grim. Since taking office, the Trump administration has significantly cut funding to the US Centre for Disease Control (CDC), most particularly in pandemic prevention. Mr Trump apparently refused WHO testing kits for coronavirus, and the CDC doesn’t have many kits of its own, so one can only surmise that fewer tests than necessary are being carried out.

The number of Americans with no health insurance has been rising gradually since Mr Trump’s election, meaning many especially poorer folk – those more likely to have underlying health problems in the first place – simply won’t go for testing if they have symptoms. Neither will illegal migrants. Meanwhile, few Americans, even those with health insurance, get sick pay.

So, should I travel to the US with all this going on? I honestly don’t know what to do. Journal of a Plague Year doesn’t have the answers. As for my husband’s grandmother, she was typically Arkansan in her advice to us: see you if the creek don’t rise.