Nasty Rudy Rona strikes columnist Will Sutton

The eight-hospital LCMC Health system saw a tenfold increase in the last three months. Four hospitalized patients tested positive for COVID before this surge. Now there are 44.

“Over 2,000 people visited the emergency room for COVID-19 in Louisiana during the week ending July 27, according to the most recent data available,” Woodruff reported. “The highest percentage of those visits were among children under two, followed by ages 2 to 4.”

That is startling. 

I’m COVID Summer Surge Example No. 1.

I was one of the first 100 people tested for COVID-19 in New Orleans in spring 2020 after being exposed to the emerging virus while attending a national journalism conference. I was among the first few hundred who got the COVID vaccine when it was offered.

If the World Health Organization, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention or the Louisiana Department of Health mandated or suggested precautions, I heeded them. I avoided gatherings and crowds. I washed my hands thoroughly. I masked.

I isolated when I caught the virus. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Days ago, a home test confirmed a nagging feeling. I tested positive for the fourth time.

I thought I’d been careful.

We’re soooo close to getting a new vaccine — in a matter of weeks — that I took the risk of waiting.

I visited a sister, then planned to attend a national journalism convention in Chicago. On my nonstop flight there, all 143 passenger seats were filled. A guy in the window seat in the row in front of me was coughing. Hacking, really. I’m certain that what he spread is what I caught.

He ruined my family visit. He caused me to miss the convention.

From a few yards away, I listened as National Association of Black Journalists Executive Director Drew Berry told his board of directors the day before the event started, “Masks aren’t required” at the convention. “If you’re sick, go home.” 

I left for the day, with a slight cough, with plans to return the next day.

That night I tested positive. I did not return to the convention hotel.

I isolated — again. This time in my sister’s Southside Chicago basement with a sore throat, a cold, chills and a temperature that shot up to 101.8.

Fourteen Walgreens stores near my sister’s place didn’t have Paxlovid in stock. I had to wait two days to get some.

So much for my plans.

I got in some masked, distanced sightseeing with car windows down. I ate meals separately. “Dining out” meant delivery.

I’m better, but I’m worried.

Louisiana, like most states, no longer considers COVID serious enough to warrant public health safety precautions that go beyond general data and information. Still, the state health department considers the virus “very contagious” and says some people may “become severely ill,” according to the department’s respiratory virus dashboard.

As of August 2, the health department reported 496 COVID-19 deaths in Louisiana in 2023 and 2024, including four child deaths. That’s far below our 2020-2021 peak of more than 1,500 COVID deaths in August 2021.

But that’s disturbingly higher than the number we’ve become used to seeing in recent years. That’s scary.

New Orleans is the only city/parish in Louisiana with its own health department. City health officials follow pandemic trends closely and prioritize prevention over emergency responses. They provide the warnings and recommendations; it’s up to the public to respond in a timely manner. 

“We are encouraging the public to get both their flu shots and COVID-19 shots since cases are trending up and Louisiana is one of the hot-spot states,” a city health department representative said. “We are currently planning opportunities for people to get both immunizations at no cost and that should roll out later this month/early September.”

COVID is here. It’s getting stronger, and we in Louisiana aren’t helping things. 

According to several reports, Louisiana has one of the lowest vaccination rates in the nation. One report says Louisiana has the second-lowest vaccination rate at 70%. And only 12.3% of us have had updated vaccination doses in 2023 or 2024.

We probably won’t see the death, pain, tears and funerals that we saw in the early days of the pandemic. But we can and should reduce the likelihood of infecting others by doing the right thing now.

I’m on my way for an updated vaccine as soon as it is available. 

Email Will Sutton at wsutton@theadvocate.com. He is on X at @willsutton.