Part 1: The Background and My Trauma

Four years ago, almost to the day, the Pittsburgh Tribune Review, now and since 2016 a fully online media company called Trib Live, posted a story about me.  The article: ‘Absolutely beautiful’: West Penn Hospital staff gave Harrison man 2nd goodbye with dying mother.  Renatta Signorini, who wrote the piece, found me after having read the obituary I wrote for my Mom. 

Two days after Josie died, I self-published this piece.  Several weeks later, I published a final piece explicitly about my Mom.

Before Mom’s death, I’d been an essential worker at a preschool.  You may recall that we knew nothing about the novel COVID-19 virus and so my life consisted of entering through the side door of my hundred-plus-year-old steel-town house and walking into the unfinished basement with a toilet, sink, and shower.  These things exist in many a Pittsburgh house, particularly as workers would come home from a long, hot, sooty, sweaty shift… absolutely dirty.  I sanitized and washed my clothes daily.  Showered immediately. Sanitized surfaces.  Ran laundry on hot nightly.  Occasionally, because hypochondria was a clear possibility, I just sprayed my naked body down with Lysol before showering. Rinse. Repeat.

Eventually, we came to understand that COVID was airborne and aerosolized.  Everybody previously thought the virus traveled on large droplets and settled quickly.  Turns out, that is not what happens with COVID.  Or many other things.  Like measles, which are back. But I digress.

I’ve been masking, distancing, and living in a perpetual state of mid-level anxiety for five years.

Trauma stacked on trauma stacked on trauma.

I’m not alone. 

And.

Most (…yes, most…) people stopped masking, distancing, or even pretending the pandemic existed once vaccines, which we always knew were not able to stop transmission, but rather to reduce death and mitigate disability.  But we knew about the full body system impacts of just one infection, let alone multiple infections.  We knew about long COVID also.  We knew COVID seemed to exacerbate Alzheimer’s.  We knew it attacked the heart, the lungs, the immune system, the gut, AND even the brain-blood barrier.  We knew.  We know.

The podcast Radiolab did a wonderful job keeping up with the state of the science and lived experiences of humans.  Others did as well.  (There is a recent episode of Radiolab, titled, “Revenge of the Miasma,” from 2/28/25, that is critical listening for folks interested in understanding the state and history of science related to airborne illness.)

The fact is that I am the only person in my life who still regularly masks, distances, avoids restaurants, bars, airplanes, etc.

Also, I’ve been relaxing a bit.  I have.  There are times wherein I will make a decision based upon the size, ventilation, HVAC, and congestion of a place.  I don’t believe I’ve contracted or passed on anything, including COVID, but I honestly don’t know.

I am still the most consistent human I know, regarding this pandemic.  I say “this pandemic,” because I do not believe we are post-pandemic.  We are post-something.  But this pandemic was never taken seriously, and I need to continue to take breaths and one step at a time.  Left foot, right foot, breathe.

Part 2: The Foreground and My Mistake

Several weeks ago, a reporter from Trib Live contacted me.  The media platform was endeavoring to mark the fifth anniversary of the beginning of quarantine and lock-down, to the extent that we actually and efficaciously did both.  March, 2020.  They had my story from March, 2021.  And they wanted to explore my experience across these five years.  Well, not just me.  But I was going to be an important piece of the story.  And I was.  Am.

Here is that story: COVID’s Lasting Effects: 5 years after pandemic, signs of the virus’ impact on society are still felt, by Justin Vellucci.

The first image in the piece reads, “After a long hiatus because of the pandemic, Gregory Del Duca of Harrison has finally returned to the pleasure of enjoying a cortado at a coffee shop. Here he sips one Wednesday at Espresso a Mano in Lawrenceville. (Shane Dunlap | TribLive).”  Shane was a lovely person and his images are really beautiful.  Justin’s piece is very well written, and he approached me so kindly, gently, and in complete good faith.

I made the decision, walking into a coffee shop with the intention to drink a cortado for the first time in five years, that I would unmask.  The shop was nearly empty.  I was near the door.  The HVAC and ventilation seemed good.  (But what do I know?  Nothing, is the answer.)  I had been praying the rain would stop and the shop would open their glass garage door.  That hadn’t happened. I drank the cortado, and it was SO GOOD.  The cortado is, for me, the perfect milk to espresso ratio and, when done well, is just a pristine and perfect caffeinated drink.  But no, I haven’t finally returned to the pleasure of enjoying a cortado at a coffee shop.  I did it because there I was and there was the photographer.  I did it for the first time.  I enjoyed the cortado and the conversation.  And I will not do that again until the weather shifts and the doors open and/or outdoor seating returns.  And even then I will go where there is minimal to no crowd.

This is all irrelevant.

I did have the cortado, inside, unmasked.

And it’s essential that I communicate this with you.  Whomever you are.

I’m not returning to normal.

As I was quoted in the article, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get back to my normal ever again.”

(There were several angles the reporter who wrote the piece had for me, and he chose this angle.  I didn’t know he was going to lean solely into the part about me wanting a fancy barista-made cortado.  Again, oh well.  This is my responsibility.  My decision.)

Folks, we are now staring in the face of an administration and a secretary of health and human services who embrace genocide and eugenics and who despise vaccines, masks, and anything that hints at the realities of a country that did NOT do anything humanely, rationally, kindly, or appropriately across two administrations, including a Democrat and a Republican.

I communicated with Justin Vellucci that he is a wonderful writer.  He is.  This article presents a picture of a person… me… who is emerging and moving on.

I am emerging and moving on… from 5 years of anxiety, depression, and trauma.  But I am not resuming any semblance of a life that looks like my life before 2020.

I don’t think the article is wrong or lying.

I just… need to clarify the context.

I also want to apologize to folks who are immunocompromised, vulnerable, and traumatized… because this article and those images do not capture me, at present.  Not fully.  Not actually.

Masking and distancing, vaccinations and all manner of replicated, efficacious epidemiological endeavors… are critical.  Things are going to worsen, and I’m not talking about COVID anymore.  I’m talking about the myriad diseases that had been all but eradicated that are now re-emerging and spreading.  Also, bird flu.  And whatever else emerges next.  I’m talking about how public agencies and funding for safe and critical medical prophylaxis are going to shift to fully privatized and will be unaffordable to most, including myself, and completely unavailable to those most vulnerable among us.

Please look at those images of me, taken with care and professionalism… and don’t do what I did.

Please understand that we are at a critical juncture at present, and memory holing the COVID pandemic will only perpetuate further harm, disability, trauma, and death.

I am better.

I am healing.

I am emerging from a lengthy stay in the halls of depression and existential assault.

I appreciate the Trib piece acknowledging that.  I am grateful for it.

Also?

And here I will quote my Mom’s obituary from four-plus years ago, “In lieu of flowers or donations, we ask that you seriously consider your behavior and decisions during this pandemic. Please be mindful and caring of others. Wear a mask at all times and be aware of socially distancing. Avoid indoor congregations and take care of yourselves, also.”

I love and appreciate you being here with me.

-G