As the morning sun cast a soft glow over Ban Bang Kapi School nestled in the bustling Bang Kapi district, an energetic buzz filled the air. The familiar sight of students forming orderly queues, with the gleam of determination in their eyes, they stepped forward for their ritualistic cleansing. Hands outstretched, they greeted the day with a sanitizing spritz, one small yet powerful gesture in our new normal. So commenced another day of enlightening young minds, the echo of their laughter a testament to resilience in the face of an enduring pandemic. (Dig into the archives and you’ll find a snapshot in the pages of yesteryear, courtesy of Varuth Hirunyatheb’s astute lens.)
But the tune of the world outside these school walls hummed a more somber note as the Department of Disease Control (DDC) unfurled a banner of cautionary news on a Monday not too long past. From Dec 3-9, a surge swept the nation, administrators counting 590 fresh faces in hospital beds, the largest leap since we shed our calendars of July’s warmth. The reckoning? A sobering 36,794 souls entangled within the web of Covid-19’s embrace since the nascent dawn of January.
The specter of the virus stretched further still, as the DDC’s ledger spoke of five stars extinguished, their legacies etched into the ever-extending tapestry numbering 831 since January’s frost. And within this landscape, 94 warrior lungs battled for breath in the mire of active infections, almost half beseeching the life-giving kiss of oxygen supplementation.
In the hush that often follows such announcements, the wisdom of Dr Thira Woratanarat of Chulalongkorn University’s Faculty of Medicine cast pebbles upon still waters. He posited a troubling thought: what if the serpent lay hidden within the grass? Could the true count of our foe stretch between 4,215-5,854 daily? The culprit? Our very own impetuosity, for the collective “we” sought answers beneath the antigen’s gaze too soon after the virus’s stealthy entrance. He implored, advised, beseeched even: wait for the golden span of 4-5 days post-exposure, embrace the test again. For within this window, truth’s clearest reflection could be beheld. And do not be lulled into false reprieve—symptoms without positive proof demand a second glance.
Dr Thira, a seer, foretold that the winds of change bore upon them a sly traveler, the BA.2.86 variant, whispering promises of dominance within Thailand’s borders.
Yet into the tempest strode another voice, the learned Dr Manoon Leechawengwongs, a sentry of the breathways at Vichaiyut Hospital. He spoke not of despair, but of evolution and adaption. The virus, he mused, had danced the mutation ballet so oft that it had lost its lead. Now taking the stage with less vigor, it could bare its teeth even to the unshielded without inflicting the devastation of its forebears. “Heed my counsel,” he entreated. “Let the antiviral waltz begin at the first symphony of symptoms, within that quintet of days, for maximum potency.”
And within this tangle of trepidation and hope, the cosmos bore witness to a solitary departure. A staffer of the CCSA, their journey with us concluded, their memory now cradled in the annals of our collective story.
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