Federal government fumbles again. And again. And again...
Never mind the federal inquiry into B.C.’s vanishing sockeye salmon that will soon be underway. How about an inquiry into the federal government itself?
I’m sure the feds must be good at something. But they’re routinely quite hopeless, in ways that would almost be funny if it weren’t for the harm being done to Canadians and the country.
How have they hurt us? Let me count the ways:
H1N1 - If this had really been “the big one,” we’d have been as hooped as a New Orleans hurricane victim waiting for rescue after Katrina. As luck would have it, we’ve been allowed to test our national pandemic strategy with a virus that wasn’t as terrifying as expected, but picture the shape we’d be in right now had the new flu strain remained as lethal as it was in its early days in Mexico.
Canada has a 550-page pandemic preparedness plan, developed by the Public Health Agency four years ago after a botched national response to the SARS crisis. But the Canadian Medical Association Journal sounded the alarm in September that the plan was neither workable nor in keeping with best medical practices when it came to H1N1.
For starters, the plan around H1N1 was to have Canada’s single flu vaccine supplier produce three different flu vaccines at the same time, even though the Quebec plant has just one production line. No deep thinking required to see the problem that was bound to create.
The plant was already busy producing seasonal flu vaccine by the time the H1N1 vaccine was developed this fall. So that delayed production of the H1N1 vaccine - to the point that two waves of the flu had already swept through most Canadian communities by the time vaccinations were underway.
Then the plant had to switch course again when the government ordered 1.8 million doses of “non-adjuvenated” H1N1 vaccine for pregnant women, having grown nervous of the shark oil derivatives added to the vaccine. That delayed production of the regular H1N1 vaccine a second time.
Nor did the plan take into account human behaviour in times of crisis. The honour system breaks down quickly when people believe their lives are under threat, and who can blame them for thinking that after seven months of hysterical and confusing media coverage? There’s always a way to jump the queue if you work the angles, which is why junior hockey teams and wealthy Toronto hospital donors have ended up vaccinated while high-risk populations are still lining up.
Why did we choose a single vaccine supplier? The Chretien Liberals signed that exclusive deal back in 2001 with Quebec’s Shire BioChem, bought by GlaxoKlineSmith in 2005. Coincidentally, Shire BioChem gave a $56,000 donation to the Liberal Party that year.
The gun registry - This sad tale started in 1995 with the passing of a new Firearms Act. The plan required all gun owners to register their weapons and was sold to Canadians on the basis of it costing taxpayers just $2 million a year. Fourteen lost years and some $2 billion later, parliament voted this week to scrap the registry for all guns other than handguns.
The data on seven million registered “long guns” collected over the years will be thrown away. More than $21 million in registration fees has already been returned to Canadian long-gun owners, with more to come. Your tax dollars at work.
Employment Insurance - Remember when Canadians who were unemployed could actually get benefits to help them through a dry spell?
Back in 1990, 80 per cent of unemployed Canadians qualified for such benefits. These days, only 38 per cent do. That’s because the federal government has spent well over a decade tightening up policies, to the point that most out-of-work Canadians no longer qualify.
The denial of benefits has resulted in significant annual surpluses accruing to the federal government for more than 14 years now, even while the number of Canadians receiving benefits has plummeted by more than 56 per cent.
Fisheries - The latest concern is a Fraser River sockeye salmon return this fall that was 93 per cent smaller than what the Department of Fisheries and Oceans had forecast. The federal government has now launched an inquiry, which is what we do in Canada when we want to douse the flames on a hot issue.
But that’s just the latest addition to a long list of alarming examples of fisheries mismanagement in B.C. Federal government policies have decimated fish stocks, sandbagged monitoring and enhancement, and wiped out a thriving community-based industry in order to give the resource away to a handful of wealthy men. It’s unforgiveable.
I could go on. The sponsorship scandal. The e-health scandal. The isotope fiasco. The fumbling bird flu response. The deeply flawed immigration system.
George Bernard Shaw once described democracy as “a device that ensures we shall be governed no better than we deserve.” Frightening to think what that says about us.
I'm a communications strategist and writer with a journalism background, a drifter's spirit, and a growing sense of alarm at where this world is going. I am happiest when writing pieces that identify, contextualize and background societal problems big and small in hopes of helping us at least slow our deepening crises.
Showing posts with label H1N1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label H1N1. Show all posts
Monday, November 16, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Excuse me, doc - any advice for the uncertain?
What are we to take from the fact that a majority of adult Canadians don’t want to be immunized against the H1N1 flu?
I know how they feel. I’m still on the fence myself about whether to get the shot. Being immunized definitely appears to be the logical, civic-minded choice, but there’s this part of me that’s just really hesitant about getting a flu shot.
And 51 per cent of the Canadians apparently feel the same way.
Asked in an on-line poll this month about whether they’d be getting vaccinated against H1N1, more than half said no. That’s up significantly from July, when only 38 per cent were saying no.
That fact must be a great disappointment to the public-health officials working hard on the H1N1 front. People were alarmed as all get-out when the new strain of influenza first took hold in Mexico, and the task back then looked like it was going to be about keeping a worried public calm until a vaccine could be developed.
Instead we’ve ended up here, with immunization now available but fewer Canadians actually wanting it. That’s a fascinating turn of events.
What it speaks to more than anything is that the public no longer knows who to trust about such things. That’s especially true when it comes to flu shots.
We were terrified of H1N1 when it first started wreaking havoc in Mexico. I followed each new development with great interest as the virus took hold in the spring, and had long conversations with my own adult children in hopes of getting them thinking about vaccination.
But then H1N1 arrived in our own home towns. And in most cases it looked a lot like any other seasonal flu, except with more people getting it.
Public health experts continued to emphasize that H1N1 had the potential to be a much more serious type of flu. People do die from it - 87 so far in Canada. But it seems that the more H1N1 has taken hold in Canada, the more our scepticism has grown about getting immunized.
Canadians are sceptical of flu shots to begin with - less than a third of us get the seasonal shot.
The peculiar thing is that we’re generally pretty happy to get immunized. I got seven immunizations for a trip to Ghana a decade ago, and didn’t second-guess any of them. Most Canadians are quite willing to be immunized against major illnesses and to get their children immunized as well, so it’s not like vaccination is a foreign concept.
Ah, but the flu shot - for some reason, that’s a whole different thing. North Americans overall just haven’t taken to the flu shot, despite years of admonitions from public health officials about the importance of doing so.
Is it because you need a shot every year? Or because you’ve had the flu many times and it hasn’t killed you yet? Is it about the horror stories of vaccinations gone wrong that emerge just often enough to confirm your reluctance, or maybe a secret suspicion that it’s good for your immune system to have to fight off illness on its own once in a while?
I admit to a little of all of those in my own feelings about getting a flu shot. And I know it’s all about having an emotional reaction to the issue rather than a logical one. I hate being sick with the flu and I’m asthmatic to boot, so there’s no sensible reason for me to resist inoculation.
In the case of H1N1, experiences in my own family this past month should have also pushed me toward immunization if logic had anything to do with it. My brother’s wife is still recovering in hospital after a terrible bout of H1N1 that left her incapacitated and on a ventilator in the intensive care unit for almost a week.
But there’s something that I just can’t get my head around when it comes to flu shots. I wish I understood my resistance better, because I like to think I make good choices when it comes to my health. Public health officials might want to try to understand the resistance of people like me as well, because their messages clearly aren’t having the desired effect if the majority of Canadians are saying no to a flu shot.
Please take my musings on this subject as nothing more than that. I offer no advice on whether to get an H1N1 shot. I’m just saying that rightly or wrongly, many of us need more convincing.
What are we to take from the fact that a majority of adult Canadians don’t want to be immunized against the H1N1 flu?
I know how they feel. I’m still on the fence myself about whether to get the shot. Being immunized definitely appears to be the logical, civic-minded choice, but there’s this part of me that’s just really hesitant about getting a flu shot.
And 51 per cent of the Canadians apparently feel the same way.
Asked in an on-line poll this month about whether they’d be getting vaccinated against H1N1, more than half said no. That’s up significantly from July, when only 38 per cent were saying no.
That fact must be a great disappointment to the public-health officials working hard on the H1N1 front. People were alarmed as all get-out when the new strain of influenza first took hold in Mexico, and the task back then looked like it was going to be about keeping a worried public calm until a vaccine could be developed.
Instead we’ve ended up here, with immunization now available but fewer Canadians actually wanting it. That’s a fascinating turn of events.
What it speaks to more than anything is that the public no longer knows who to trust about such things. That’s especially true when it comes to flu shots.
We were terrified of H1N1 when it first started wreaking havoc in Mexico. I followed each new development with great interest as the virus took hold in the spring, and had long conversations with my own adult children in hopes of getting them thinking about vaccination.
But then H1N1 arrived in our own home towns. And in most cases it looked a lot like any other seasonal flu, except with more people getting it.
Public health experts continued to emphasize that H1N1 had the potential to be a much more serious type of flu. People do die from it - 87 so far in Canada. But it seems that the more H1N1 has taken hold in Canada, the more our scepticism has grown about getting immunized.
Canadians are sceptical of flu shots to begin with - less than a third of us get the seasonal shot.
The peculiar thing is that we’re generally pretty happy to get immunized. I got seven immunizations for a trip to Ghana a decade ago, and didn’t second-guess any of them. Most Canadians are quite willing to be immunized against major illnesses and to get their children immunized as well, so it’s not like vaccination is a foreign concept.
Ah, but the flu shot - for some reason, that’s a whole different thing. North Americans overall just haven’t taken to the flu shot, despite years of admonitions from public health officials about the importance of doing so.
Is it because you need a shot every year? Or because you’ve had the flu many times and it hasn’t killed you yet? Is it about the horror stories of vaccinations gone wrong that emerge just often enough to confirm your reluctance, or maybe a secret suspicion that it’s good for your immune system to have to fight off illness on its own once in a while?
I admit to a little of all of those in my own feelings about getting a flu shot. And I know it’s all about having an emotional reaction to the issue rather than a logical one. I hate being sick with the flu and I’m asthmatic to boot, so there’s no sensible reason for me to resist inoculation.
In the case of H1N1, experiences in my own family this past month should have also pushed me toward immunization if logic had anything to do with it. My brother’s wife is still recovering in hospital after a terrible bout of H1N1 that left her incapacitated and on a ventilator in the intensive care unit for almost a week.
But there’s something that I just can’t get my head around when it comes to flu shots. I wish I understood my resistance better, because I like to think I make good choices when it comes to my health. Public health officials might want to try to understand the resistance of people like me as well, because their messages clearly aren’t having the desired effect if the majority of Canadians are saying no to a flu shot.
Please take my musings on this subject as nothing more than that. I offer no advice on whether to get an H1N1 shot. I’m just saying that rightly or wrongly, many of us need more convincing.
Friday, June 05, 2009
Confessions of a disease vector
Like many other Greater Victorians, I caught a bug recently and am sick this week.
I doubt it’s the infamous “swine flu,” seeing as any number of more common colds and flus are hanging around out there right now. But for a moment let’s pretend that it is, if only for the purposes of demonstrating that there isn’t a sniff of hope in these modern times for containing the spread of new viruses.
The new H1N1 flu is contagious 24 hours before you show any symptoms and for at least seven days after you get sick, as are all flu viruses. That means I was contagious as of last Saturday.
That was the day I was shopping in Seattle with my daughter and stepdaughter. We were jammed into the basement of Nordstrom Rack with at least a thousand other women over the course of the afternoon. I can’t imagine how many articles of clothing I handled that day - how many hangers I jostled, changing-room doors I pushed open, people I brushed up against while engaging in the intense contact sport of discount shopping.
That night, I went to a packed restaurant full of Saturday-night revellers and beautiful young people in prom clothes, out celebrating their high-school grad. I hugged a friend from Seattle who had joined us for dinner, and we all shared an appetizer that involved us breaking off pieces of flatbread and dipping it in a single dish of melted cheese. I spent the night in a very small hotel room with my daughters, both of whom were already sick with some cold-like illness.
On Sunday, my stepdaughter flew back home to England, taking whatever bug she had - and perhaps mine, too - onto two planes, through three airports, and aboard a train ride to Exeter. My other daughter and I spent the morning weaving through throngs of tourists and locals packed into Pike Street Market, then went on to more discount shopping at the bustling outlet mall near the Tulalip Casino.
My credit card passed from me to a store clerk and back again any number of times over the weekend. I shared pens, passed along my passport at the border, handled a whole lot of merchandise in a whole lot of stores. I took a busy BC Ferry back to Victoria on Sunday night.
You get the picture: I shared public space with large numbers of people before I even knew I was sick. I know now, of course, which should mean I’ll take steps to avoid infecting anyone from this point on. But here we stumble into another unworkable theory for flu management: That people will stay home for seven days after the onset of symptoms to prevent the spread of the virus.
Are there people who can just close up their lives for seven days due to possibly having the flu? I know I can’t.
For one thing, I’m self-employed, which means no paid sick time. But even when I did have that fringe benefit, there was no way I would have stayed home for seven days straight just because I thought I had the flu. The truth is that people work through sickness all the time, and the modern workplace depends on it.
On the bright side, I work at home, sans co-workers. But I’ve got two contracts hitting deadlines over the next two weeks, and they require me to get out there and meet with people, flu or no flu. My plan: A couple Dayquils when needed and onward into my regular life, albeit with a bit more attention to hand-washing and avoiding close spaces.
The flu experts want me to wear a mask if I have to go out in public. Maybe I’d consider that if knew absolutely that I had some virulent flu strain and not just a garden-variety cold.
But therein lies the other difficult aspect of controlling the spread of influenza: How often do any of us actually know that we even have a confirmed case of the flu? It’s my opinion that I’ve had the flu many times in my lifetime, but I’ve never gone for a blood test to confirm any of it. Health officials anticipate confirming as few as five per cent of the H1N1 cases currently spreading around the world.
A pandemic strategy is a good thing, of course, and I’m glad for all the stockpiled Tamiflu and scientists working away on new vaccines. But best practice and human habits are leagues apart when it comes to spreading the flu. Eat your veggies and hope for the best, because avoiding each other simply isn’t an option.
Like many other Greater Victorians, I caught a bug recently and am sick this week.
I doubt it’s the infamous “swine flu,” seeing as any number of more common colds and flus are hanging around out there right now. But for a moment let’s pretend that it is, if only for the purposes of demonstrating that there isn’t a sniff of hope in these modern times for containing the spread of new viruses.
The new H1N1 flu is contagious 24 hours before you show any symptoms and for at least seven days after you get sick, as are all flu viruses. That means I was contagious as of last Saturday.
That was the day I was shopping in Seattle with my daughter and stepdaughter. We were jammed into the basement of Nordstrom Rack with at least a thousand other women over the course of the afternoon. I can’t imagine how many articles of clothing I handled that day - how many hangers I jostled, changing-room doors I pushed open, people I brushed up against while engaging in the intense contact sport of discount shopping.
That night, I went to a packed restaurant full of Saturday-night revellers and beautiful young people in prom clothes, out celebrating their high-school grad. I hugged a friend from Seattle who had joined us for dinner, and we all shared an appetizer that involved us breaking off pieces of flatbread and dipping it in a single dish of melted cheese. I spent the night in a very small hotel room with my daughters, both of whom were already sick with some cold-like illness.
On Sunday, my stepdaughter flew back home to England, taking whatever bug she had - and perhaps mine, too - onto two planes, through three airports, and aboard a train ride to Exeter. My other daughter and I spent the morning weaving through throngs of tourists and locals packed into Pike Street Market, then went on to more discount shopping at the bustling outlet mall near the Tulalip Casino.
My credit card passed from me to a store clerk and back again any number of times over the weekend. I shared pens, passed along my passport at the border, handled a whole lot of merchandise in a whole lot of stores. I took a busy BC Ferry back to Victoria on Sunday night.
You get the picture: I shared public space with large numbers of people before I even knew I was sick. I know now, of course, which should mean I’ll take steps to avoid infecting anyone from this point on. But here we stumble into another unworkable theory for flu management: That people will stay home for seven days after the onset of symptoms to prevent the spread of the virus.
Are there people who can just close up their lives for seven days due to possibly having the flu? I know I can’t.
For one thing, I’m self-employed, which means no paid sick time. But even when I did have that fringe benefit, there was no way I would have stayed home for seven days straight just because I thought I had the flu. The truth is that people work through sickness all the time, and the modern workplace depends on it.
On the bright side, I work at home, sans co-workers. But I’ve got two contracts hitting deadlines over the next two weeks, and they require me to get out there and meet with people, flu or no flu. My plan: A couple Dayquils when needed and onward into my regular life, albeit with a bit more attention to hand-washing and avoiding close spaces.
The flu experts want me to wear a mask if I have to go out in public. Maybe I’d consider that if knew absolutely that I had some virulent flu strain and not just a garden-variety cold.
But therein lies the other difficult aspect of controlling the spread of influenza: How often do any of us actually know that we even have a confirmed case of the flu? It’s my opinion that I’ve had the flu many times in my lifetime, but I’ve never gone for a blood test to confirm any of it. Health officials anticipate confirming as few as five per cent of the H1N1 cases currently spreading around the world.
A pandemic strategy is a good thing, of course, and I’m glad for all the stockpiled Tamiflu and scientists working away on new vaccines. But best practice and human habits are leagues apart when it comes to spreading the flu. Eat your veggies and hope for the best, because avoiding each other simply isn’t an option.
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