New York City is magical during the holiday season. Cheery Christmas trees, holiday markets, and festive decorations transform the concrete jungle into a winter wonderland.
But it’s not all sugarplums and gumdrops.
Those warm and fuzzy Hallmark-worthy holiday feelings are being threatened by an invisible villain raging through the streets: Omicron.
Case counts have exploded with a 126% 14 day increase in positive cases (see screenshot below from the NY Times on December 23rd), sending the familiar stench of fear wafting down the avenues once more. Despite case surges, it’s critical to note that hospitalizations and death rates have remained relatively stable.
There’s a general aura of uneasiness with moments of flat out hysteria over this new villain on the block.
Failure to wear a mask will earn you death stares. Restaurants are checking vaccine cards more diligently—if they’re open that is. COVID outbreaks among staff have forced dozens of venues to close. A handful of Broadway shows have gone dark. Radio City even ended the Rockette’s Christmas shows early. And lines to get tested are stretching down the block.
December 22nd, I woke up feeling less than great. Lack of sleep? Too much pizza? Omicron? I called out of work and embarked on a mission to find a COVID test. A mission that proved to be quite the battle…
8:30am: The local urgent care already had a massive line. I headed downtown to scout out my favorite little testing popup trucks and tents. (As a freelancer, I get COVID tests 2 to 3 times a week. Sometimes gigs required it, sometimes it’s for peace of mind.) Each one had a line 30 people deep.
10:11am: I settled on a LabQ Diagnosis testing truck at Columbus Circle. The line was intimidating. But two days prior, additional COVID test booths popped up in the same area. This is so strategic! As soon as the other booths come I’ll zip on through!
11:11am: The line was inching along. People were getting restless. No new test booths to be seen. A woman behind me kept checking to see if tests were in fact be administered. A man in front of me anxiously paced. No one had come by to tell us how to register, how long the wait might be, or what the hold up was. Inpatient anger was bubbling behind my N95.
12:11pm: Two hours in, and the man doing the tests came out to the crowd. “There are only 7 rapid tests left.” The news telephoned down the line as raised voices erupted in a wave. I’ve been waiting here for 2 hours! I have an international flight and need this test! Why isn’t anyone communicating with us! With just 9 people in front of me, I decided I’d stick it out in hopes of a miracle on 59th street.
12:30pm: The manager of the tents in the area swung by and informed the line that rapid tests could only be given for medical or travel reason. Chaos erupted once more. Why in the hell couldn’t you see the amount and tests compared to the line?! This is ridiculous! I’ve been standing here for over two hours! The current wait time for PCR tests by LabQ are close to 5 days—why can’t you get it together? My frustration and anger accompanied by numb toes and a roaring stomach culminated in tears rather than words. Shooting the messenger rarely gets you the desired result.
12:45pm: The man doing the tests informed the line once more about the rapid test restrictions. The fact that he took his mask off to deliver the news rubbed me the wrong way. After 2 1/2 hours of waiting, leaving simply wasn’t an option.
1:10pm: After 40 minutes of silent rage it was my turn. Through chattering teeth I said, “I am traveling… can I have the rapid?” “I just got new boxes, don’t worry about.” Was he going to tell that to the 40 people behind me fuming and cursing?! Some nurses are delicate with the swabs. This guy had no reservations. The swab was jammed up to my brain twice per nostril for both the rapid and PCR.
1:15pm: Let the waiting game begin.
2:03pm: The results were in… negative!
The experience was baffling– no communication, poor organization, and a rate of 10-15 tests per hour.
The message, “Go get vaccinated, boosted, and tested!” is everywhere you look, and headlines are peppered with updates on how the government plans to ramp up jabs and acquire more tests. More available vaccines and tests won’t lead to the desired results if they aren’t being distributed efficiently.
I worked at a government funded test site for 4 months in 2020, and I learned a thing or two about vaccine distribution. (Click here for more on my story.) First off, a well-oiled testing site needs a registration team, nurses, and a manger who is present. But how do you fund that?! Well, I also saw head scratching budget allocation with extreme monetary waste. Unused tents and cinderblocks were racking up $1,000s of dollars of rental fees per day alone. By July, we were doing less than 100 tests a day with operation costs that a little bird told me exceeded $20,000 a day. Chances are similar budgeting faux pas are still occurring. As traffic died down, testing supplies ramped up. I would read headlines about national test shortages while staring at a van full of 2,000 tests that were going bad. I’ll throw out a wild guess that other test sites were facing similar situations.
Two major barriers to fighting COVID are poor management and poor resource allocation, which are fueled by miscommunication and too many cooks in the kitchen.
Yes we need more easily accessible tests. Yes people should get jabbed and boosted. But let’s bring logistics, allocation, and distribution to the forefront of the conversation.
The Omicron variant and case surges are alarming. News sources and social media are only adding the fuel of fear to the firestorm of panic. But we’ve read this chapter before. It’s time to quiet down emotion, ramp up data-driven information, work together, and put what we’ve learned over the past 21 months to use.
3 thoughts on “What’s It Really Like in NYC During Omicron?: My 3 Hour Journey to Get a COVID Test”
UGH! You think 2 years in we would have figured this out by now.
You’d think 🙁 🙁
Love it! Thanks for sharing this Katie.