Daily Beast Publishes Writer’s Ridiculous Account of Getting COVID-19 Test
Daily Beast writer, Jonathan Merritt, wrote an article this week describing his experience getting a COVID-19 test. The piece was one the most hilariously dramatic, effeminate pieces on this topic.
Merritt starts off the piece saying,
When he was asked by an NBC reporter to describe the experience of being tested for COVID-19, Dr. Daniel Kuritzkes replied flatly: “It can be moderately uncomfortable.” Having now experienced it for myself, I’d like to nominate the good doctor for whatever award is given to the person who makes the understatement of the year.
The experience is better described by a woman on TikTok who said, “[It] felt like I was being stabbed in the brain.” That’s cheeky. But also accurate.
Many people refute Merritt’s claim that the test itself was so painful that it could accurately be described as brain stabbing. One Twitter follower wrote, “My 7 year old son had 2 flu swabs this year and he got a popsicle and was over it.”
My 7 year old son had 2 flu swabs this year and he got a popsicle and was over it.
— christy???? (@ladystormbreak1) April 20, 2020
This guy is obviously joking. Sure, the test is uncomfortable, but Merritt’s whining about the pain level of the test is completely over the top.
Merritt described the circumstances leading up to the test as being psychologically and emotionally traumatizing, as if he had just been to war.
But…the procedure itself might be the least of your concerns. There are psychological, emotional, and existential hurdles at every turn of the process—from the first cough until the results arrive. And you’ll need more than a high pain threshold to navigate these strains without losing whatever sanity you’ve got left….
A week into self-quarantining, the biggest threat to our collective sanity was the boredom and food shortage at the local grocery store. But then one morning I woke with a violent cough. I tried to hide it when I was around my fellow quarantiners, choking back the tickle in my throat and often dashing out of the room to hack into a pillow.
It’s funny how something that was so innocuous just a handful of weeks ago can spark a sense of both external shame and internal panic. But in our new world, many rules have been inverted. A hug or kiss is now potentially deadly, and physical distance is an expression of love.
Merritt then informs us about how courageous he was just by making the decision to get tested.
Two days later, we made the 30-minute trek to an Albany drive-thru testing center. Stephanie and Erik drove in one vehicle, and I followed closely behind in another. It took a lot of courage to crank that car. Which is a reminder that courage looks a lot different in a global pandemic.
My author friend Annie Downs often reminds me that courage is not competitive. It’s relative only to you. Whenever we display small acts of courage, there’s a tendency to name a freedom fighter or recount the story of a firefighter who rescued a child from a burning building. It’s a way of minimizing whatever action for us looks most courageous in the moment. Instead, Annie has challenged me to stop comparing and be my “best brave.”
The thing is, Merritt is 35 to 40 years old. He is at extremely low risk for having severe complications or dying from the virus.
He does bring up a 31-year-old friend of his who went to the hospital and is currently on a ventilator. That is a very sad reality of such a virus ravaging through our country, but that is still statistically very, very rare.
Any extreme fear of this virus is almost entirely unwarranted for a healthy man of his age. It definitely doesn’t warrant the ridiculous emotional sentimentalism expressed by Merritt.
He is not brave for getting tested. He is just acting like a 15-year-old high school female drama student.