Day 618 – Infectiousness v Lethality

As we look at the latest figures from Gauteng, ground zero for SA’s Omicron-driven Fourth wave (again via @rid1tweets), we see this scary graph:

The hospital and death figures always lag a week or two behind, so really, all the we can say about Omicron at the moment is that it’s spreading like wildfire. Given that the conditions at the start of each of the three previous waves was pretty much the same, and that we should now have some protection from (some) previous infections and (a bit of) vaccination, we’d wouldn’t expect to see the black line rearing up like a pissed off Cape Cobra in the Overberg, rather it should be flatter, like a mole snake on the R27 West Coast Road.

It’s so steep because the virus is spreading very quickly, which suggests that it is very infectious. And that would fit with the (anecdotal) evidence I’m seeing in my friends and friends of friends in Cape Town. Every second person has suddenly got it: some not so bad, some bad, some vaccinated, some not (and some unknown), some previously infected, some not, some careful, most… you know. Mmm.

But it wasn’t here a week ago and now it’s everywhere.

Increased infectiousness = increased transmissibility.
And so the gradient of that black line is very bad news. Not least because of this:

Yep – a low percentage can still be a very big number if it’s a low percentage of a huge number.

Delta looked like a variant that you wanted to avoid because it has/had some nasty morbidity and mortality associated with it. Omicron looks like one to avoid because it has some really nasty transmissibility associated with it – and we don’t know about the morbidity or the mortality yet.

But either way, it’s not looking good.

Not yet

Regular readers will have deduced from the rather technical, niche (but probably very useful) post published earlier this morning, that I have not had chance to look at any of the photos from our trip away just yet.

I’m still a bit knackered, to be honest.

And that’s raised an interesting and rather worrying question in my currently overstretched and under-rested mind:

Are long haul flights like hangovers?

There do seem to be some similarities: they are both self-inflicted, they both leave you feeling dreadful the next day, they both cost a lot (although if you knock back a CPT-LHR BA ticket’s worth of booze, you’ll likely be dead so it won’t matter anyway), and the recovery from each seems to be taking longer and longer as I get older.

I used to bounce back after a good night’s sleep. This time, I’ve already had two decent sessions (careful now), and yet I’m still very definitely struggling. And you don’t even know if I’m talking about a flight or an evening of boozing.

Or both.

Has anyone else noticed this phenomenon?

I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea of it. I don’t like the way I’m still feeling so battered this morning. I don’t like the way that this sort of thing reminds me of my mortality.
And I fully plan to combat these negative thoughts with booze and travel.

Although I’m not sure that’s going to help.