On December 8, 2019, one person in Wuhan, China, went to the hospital with what seemed like pneumonia. Unremarkable, right? Except that single visit kicked off the most globally disruptive chain of events since that time someone decided, “Hey, let’s invent war.” That person became Patient Zero for COVID-19, a disease that would stop the world in its tracks, destroy countless lives, and teach us the difference between introverts (thriving in lockdown) and extroverts (crying in sweatpants by week two).
Fast forward to now: COVID-19 infected 768 million people worldwide, killed nearly 7 million, and changed everything. For reference, that’s like wiping out the population of Los Angeles ten times over. Think about it: entire cities, gone. Meanwhile, the virus is still lurking out there like that one ex who keeps “accidentally” showing up at your favorite coffee shop.
The World Before—and After
Let’s set the stage. It’s December 2019. People are doing their holiday shopping, kids are writing letters to Santa asking for “literally anything but socks,” and Wuhan’s seafood market is bustling. Little did we know that beneath the surface, a tiny virus was silently plotting world domination, like some microscopic Bond villain with a flair for drama.
By March 11, 2020, the World Health Organization declared a pandemic, and suddenly, we were living in the intro to every apocalyptic movie ever. Empty streets. Packed hospitals. Toilet paper flying off shelves like it was the cure for everything. Zoom calls became our social lives, “flatten the curve” was the new mantra, and if you didn’t bake sourdough bread, were you even in a pandemic?
It was like the world collectively said, “Let’s just pause for a bit,” except the virus didn’t pause. It just kept spreading, like glitter at a preschool craft table—relentless and everywhere.
“A Tsunami of Suffering”
Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, head of the World Health Organization, called it “a tsunami of suffering,” which feels pretty accurate. Hospitals were overwhelmed, doctors and nurses were pushed beyond their limits, and everyone learned that PPE didn’t mean “Pretty Protective Ensemble” but should’ve, because health workers deserved capes for what they endured.
In Italy, hospitals were so packed that doctors had to choose who got a ventilator—something no one should ever have to do. In the U.S., New York City became an early epicenter. Remember those images of refrigerated trucks as makeshift morgues? Yeah, that wasn’t from some dystopian Netflix series. That was real life.
Meanwhile, the global economy was in freefall. Businesses closed. Jobs vanished. Entire industries—travel, hospitality, entertainment—were left standing around like they’d been ghosted at prom. The U.S. unemployment rate hit 14.7%, the highest since the Great Depression, and millions of people faced financial ruin.
A World Divided
And then, of course, the political fun started. Because nothing says “national unity” like turning a pandemic into a team sport. Masks? A political statement. Vaccines? A conspiracy theory. Social distancing? Optional, apparently, if you really, really wanted to go to brunch.
Globally, authoritarian regimes used COVID-19 as an excuse to tighten their grip, while democracies fumbled like a toddler with a jar of peanut butter. And misinformation? It spread faster than your aunt’s Facebook posts about essential oils curing everything.
Let’s not forget the Great Vaccine Debacle of 2021. Vaccines were developed in record time—a scientific miracle—but convincing people to take them was like trying to get a toddler to eat broccoli. “It’s good for you!” Nope. “It’ll keep you safe!” Still nope. We watched entire families argue over Thanksgiving dinners, except this time it wasn’t about politics—it was about Pfizer.
The Kids Are Not Alright
And then there were the kids. Poor kids. 1.6 billion children were affected by school closures. Sure, remote learning worked for some, but for many, it was a disaster. Imagine a 7-year-old trying to log into Zoom while their 3-year-old sibling throws LEGOs at their head and their mom is in the corner trying to negotiate with a Wi-Fi router. It was chaos.
The result? A generation of kids fell behind academically and socially. They lost months—sometimes years—of progress in reading and math. And don’t even get me started on missed proms, graduations, and those awkward middle school dances where everyone stands six feet apart anyway (COVID protocols not required).
Lessons We Must Learn
Five years later, what have we learned? Or, more importantly, what haven’t we learned?
First, pandemics don’t care about borders. They’re the world’s rudest houseguests—they show up uninvited, take over your living room, and eat all your snacks. Second, public health systems are not a “nice-to-have.” They’re a “holy crap, why didn’t we fix this earlier” necessity.
We also learned that science works, but only if people trust it. Vaccines, masks, and public health guidelines only matter if people believe in them. It’s like making a fantastic casserole and then watching your dinner guests refuse to eat it because it doesn’t look like what they’re used to.
And finally, we learned that democracy is fragile. During the pandemic, misinformation wasn’t just a nuisance—it was a weapon. It turned public health into a battlefield, undermined trust in institutions, and gave rise to movements like Christian nationalism, which seems more interested in enforcing a narrow moral code than defending the freedoms we’re supposed to cherish.
What We Leave Behind
If COVID-19 taught us anything, it’s that the world is more connected—and more vulnerable—than we like to admit. The virus didn’t just take lives; it left scars—on families, communities, economies, and nations. But it also left us with lessons, if we’re willing to learn them.
So, as we look back on December 8, 2019, let’s remember: pandemics are inevitable, but the response is up to us. Will we invest in public health? Will we combat misinformation? Will we prioritize equity?
Because the only thing more contagious than a virus is apathy. And unlike COVID, apathy doesn’t come with a vaccine.
