The hope of vaccines is with us, of better days free of restrictions, of a life unlocked and socially undistanced. But hope can be a great deceiver, as genuine as it may seem. The non-pharmaceutical interventions of a pandemic response – hygiene, distancing, and masking, for example – are likely to endure to control transmission.1 The longer-term efficacy of vaccination is yet to be established, and further boosters are already planned. The morale and exhaustion of frontline staff and the health and care services will not be rebuilt better overnight. Patients will continue to wait for their delayed appointments, scans and operations.2,3 New variants and vaccine hesitancy will not go away and are capable of spreading quickly across borders.
Yet, the unwanted legacies of COVID-19 run deeper still. The effects on the health and education of children and young people will be hard to judge fully for many years, with most concern about those from disadvantaged communities. The burden from long COVID in children is less than in adults but it is a burden nonetheless with uncertain consequences. Keeping schools open safely is an important priority and, as argued by Kaveh Asanati et al., must encompass the whole school community and be built on the pillars of ventilation, testing and vaccination.4
Another unwanted legacy is the impact on ethnic minorities, heightened by the complexity of multigenerational households. As such, older people in multigenerational households are at greatest risk of death from COVID-19 when they live with younger people.5 Ethnic minorities are at particular risk. Despite a year of great media and political attention to the health and wellbeing of ethnic minorities, the reality is that inequalities are more troubling and appear more insoluble.
Does anybody care about these unwanted legacies? Words are only meaningful if backed by actions and resources, and both children and ethnic minorities might wonder when that backing will come? In the meantime, the least these groups deserve is empathy. That empathy might come from animals, whose therapeutic role in healthcare environments is explored by Ellen Ben-Sefer and Linda Shields.6 Another place to look is William Shakespeare’s plays, which, argues David Jeffrey, can help teach clinicians about empathy and its centrality to human relationships at times of crisis.7 If one legacy of COVID-19 is more Shakespeare on the medical curriculum, play on.
References
- 1.Ashton J. In praise of hygiene. J R Soc Med 2021; 114: 222–223. [DOI] [PMC free article] [PubMed]
- 2.Trivedy M. If I were Minister for health, I would . . . review the four-hour waiting time in the emergency department. J R Soc Med 2021; 114: 218–221. [DOI] [PMC free article] [PubMed]
- 3.Hull S, Williams C, Basnett I, Ashman N. Health inequalities worsen with the drop in hospital referrals. J R Soc Med 2021; 114: 158–159. [DOI] [PMC free article] [PubMed]
- 4.Asanati K, Voden L, Majeed A. Healthier schools during the COVID-19 pandemic: ventilation, testing and vaccination. J R Soc Med 2021; 114: 160–163. [DOI] [PMC free article] [PubMed]
- 5.Nafilyan V, Islam N, Ayoubkhani D, Gilles C, Katikireddi VS, Mathur R, Summerfield A, Tingay K, Asaria M, John A, Goldblatt P, Banerjee B, Glickman M and Khunti K. Ethnicity, household composition and COVID-19 mortality: a national linked data study. J R Soc Med 2021; 114: 182–211. [DOI] [PMC free article] [PubMed]
- 6.Ben-Sefer E and Shields L. Animal Farm in healthcare: definitions, policies, laws and implications for health professionals. J R Soc Med 2021; 114: 171–177. [DOI] [PMC free article] [PubMed]
- 7.Jeffrey DI. Shakespeare s empathy: enhancing connection in the patient doctor relationship in times of crisis. J R Soc Med 2021; 114: 178–181. [DOI] [PMC free article] [PubMed]