Center for Health Journalism

The Center for Health Journalism has begun offering a special newsletter geared to journalists as they report on one of the biggest and most complex stories of our times. Each Monday, while the pandemic runs its course, The Coronavirus Files will provide tips and resources and highlight exemplary work to help you with your work. The Center for Health Journalism’s Coronavirus Files Monday newsletter is curated and reported by science writer Lindzi Wessel. Have a suggestion or a request? Write us at editor@centerforhealthjournalism.org.

When Jesus Francisco Meza Uriarte and Dian Alejandro Bienazul Atondo step into the van that will take them to a spinach field in Salinas each morning, it stinks of bleach. The van’s been sanitized between rides to kill any lingering bits of the COVID-19 virus.

“She had the baby, it’s a girl ... I don't know all the details, but it sounds like there were some complications.”. This was the text I received from my mother earlier this summer. My childhood best friend was pregnant with her first child, but the math simply wasn’t adding up. You see, I am a compulsive planner and had been brainstorming perfect gifts for the baby shower, scheduled for the Fourth of July weekend. The baby was due in August. So as I wiped my eyes and sat up in bed to read the text again, I knew that something had to be wrong. The baby was eight weeks early.

Reporters have been asking good questions about whether their communities are ready for the expected surge of patients suffering from COVID-19. I’m going to highlight some good examples below.

In the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, many mothers and fathers — myself included — are now attempting a Herculean balancing act, serving as stay-at-home parents leading homeschool while also working from home.

Kimberley Jarrett tucked her 15-month-old son into his car seat and jumped in beside him as her husband took off for the hospital, driving as fast as he dared. During the brief trip from their Mount Airy home, Kim dabbed coconut water onto Jace’s tongue. To her shock, it felt like sandpaper, scratchy and bone dry. Julian pulled up to Abington Hospital-Jefferson Health, and Kim rushed into the emergency department with her baby in her arms and her heart in her throat.

If our current COVID-19 health crisis teaches us anything, it is how vulnerable we all are when it comes to our insurance arrangements and the ability to pay for medical treatment when things go so unexpectedly wrong. The rapid march of the coronavirus has laid bare the fragility of the American health insurance system — its weaknesses and inequities are more visible than ever. Nearly 17 million Americans have lost their jobs and with that has come the loss of health insurance that was part of their benefit package. In other countries with large outbreaks like France, Italy, England, Germany, South Korea and Australia, health insurance has not been a problem because their national systems cover everyone in good times and bad.

All of a sudden, McKenzie Stewart seemed like an entirely different child. Usually bubbly and carefree, the 4-year-old was cranky for a solid week. Once proud of her toilet-training progress, she was back to wetting the bed. And she cried constantly about being hungry and thirsty, no matter how much her doting parents gave her to eat and drink.

In late March, with the number of confirmed coronavirus cases in Florida climbing, my editor and I sat down with the data and tried to make sense of it. Our goal was to get a clear picture of the epidemic in Florida — and determine where it might be headed. It wasn’t obvious. We knew the overall number of confirmed cases in Florida lagged far behind states like New York and New Jersey. But we also knew it was growing at an alarmingly fast rate.

The ongoing coronavirus crisis presents journalists with an unprecedented opportunity to take complicated information and translate it for audiences desperate for news, said veteran science journalist Lisa M. Krieger.

Children and teens seem to be the only bright spot in the COVID-19 pandemic. The first large analysis of pediatric cases in the U.S., released Monday by the CDC, found that children are less likely than adults to become severely ill or wind up in the hospital.

In the midst of this unprecedented public health crisis, many people may be wondering whether they should be tested for COVID-19. Hospitals and doctors’ offices around the nation — including ours — are already being inundated with calls from patients requesting tests. One of us has left his primary care practice to work full time evaluating high-risk patients for COVID-19. Some patients who want tests have typical cold or flu symptoms, others fear they were exposed to someone with the virus, while many don’t have any symptoms or exposure but are simply worried.

With all due respects to Rachel Maddow, Anderson Cooper, and all their brethren in the land of political punditry, what the world needs now is some good old-fashioned consumer reporting. Yes, I mean the kind of journalism that has largely vanished over the years in favor of talking heads, quick takes, pontification by “experts” and endless summaries of reports and studies pushed to the media about every conceivable health care topic. It wasn’t until two days ago that I, as a New Yorker trapped in an apartment for the foreseeable future, got some real news I could use. In a televised press conference, New York City’s health commissioner clearly laid out the steps in one-two-three-four fashion that New Yorkers should follow if they get sick. Finally, some useful information without a political tinge!

It’s already been called the story of our lifetime, and it’s moving with a speed and ferocity that makes it exceedingly hard for reporters to cover. Yet audiences everywhere are desperate for updates and accurate information amid a growing backdrop of fear and uncertainty. Journalists, meanwhile, have told us in conversations and surveys that they are seeking ways to get beyond breaking news to tell deeper stories on an unfamiliar topic.

The COVID-19 outbreak is an extraordinarily serious situation. Based on some predictions, this virus could kill 2.2 million in the U.S. — one out of every 150 Americans. There is uncertainty in these estimates, and the experiences in South Korea, Singapore, Hong Kong, China, and perhaps Japan — where viral spread has flattened — favor more optimistic models. Nevertheless, it is clear COVID-19 represents one of the biggest health threats our country has faced in recent years.

If you have a cough, fever, or shortness of breath, how can you tell if you've got COVID-19, a common cold, the ordinary flu, or a bad case of worry? Should you get tested? When should you seek medical care — and when should you stay home?

Life on the streets of Santa Cruz County is never easy. But by one telling metric, 2019 was a tougher year for the homeless than the year before. Last year, Santa Cruz County’s homeless population had 58 reported deaths. That was an increase of three deaths over 2018. Homeless individuals die at a rate four times higher than the average county resident. The average age of a homeless individual who died last year was 53 years old — 22 years younger than the average resident who passed away.

Are parents whose children are being removed from their homes following allegations of abuse and neglect being billed for the cost of foster care and family reunification services? There are signs from attorneys, advocates and parents that the answer is yes.