As I walked through Vancouver General Hospital’s Emergency Department last Tuesday, the scene felt eerily familiar. Masked faces in crowded waiting rooms, exhausted healthcare workers moving swiftly between patients, and that distinct atmosphere of collective anxiety that many of us hoped had become a thing of the past.
“We’re seeing about a 30% increase in respiratory cases compared to August,” Dr. Elena Sanchez told me, adjusting her N95 mask before reviewing another patient chart. “It’s not just COVID—though that’s driving much of it—but the combination of several respiratory viruses circulating simultaneously.”
Across Canada, a September surge is underway. The Public Health Agency of Canada reported yesterday that COVID-19 test positivity rates have climbed to 14.3% nationally, with British Columbia and Ontario seeing the steepest increases. Wastewater surveillance data, now a standard metric for tracking community spread, shows viral loads doubling in major urban centers over the past three weeks.
For many Canadians, this feels like unwelcome déjà vu. Five and a half years after COVID-19 first upended our lives, we’re witnessing another wave. But this time, the context is different.
“We’re in a much better position than we were in 2020,” explains Dr. Amir Khan, infectious disease specialist at Montreal General Hospital. “We have antivirals, updated vaccines, and a healthcare workforce with hard-earned experience. But that doesn’t mean this surge won’t cause significant disruption.”
In Haida Gwaii, where I spent time last month reporting on climate adaptation initiatives, community health director Jessie Williams describes the delicate balance they’re striking. “Our communities have traditional gatherings planned for the fall, which are culturally vital. But we’re also implementing testing protocols and ensuring vulnerable elders have access to the latest vaccines.”
The current dominant variant, KP.3, appears to be more transmissible than previous strains but not necessarily more severe for those with updated immunity. However, Health Canada statistics indicate that only 23% of adults received the spring 2025 booster dose, leaving significant immunity gaps as we enter respiratory virus season.
At Toronto’s Sunnybrook Hospital, nurse practitioner Devi Patel described the frustration many healthcare workers feel. “We’ve been telling people this isn’t over. The virus doesn’t care about pandemic fatigue. And now we’re seeing patients who thought COVID was ‘done’ coming in with significant symptoms.”
The impacts extend beyond hospitals. In Winnipeg, elementary school teacher Marco Delgado told me over the phone that student attendance has dropped by nearly 20% in his classroom this week. “Parents are being cautious, which I understand completely. But it disrupts learning, especially for kids who’ve already experienced so much educational instability.”
Vulnerable communities continue bearing disproportionate burdens. Statistics Canada data from previous waves showed infection rates up to three times higher in lower-income neighborhoods, where people often work in high-contact essential jobs without paid sick leave.
“My grandmother lives in a care home in Surrey,” Anita Chowdhury shared while we waited together at a bustling pharmacy for updated vaccines. “During every wave, I worry. The staff there are amazing, but they’re stretched thin, and my grandmother has COPD. For families like mine, this isn’t just an inconvenience—it’s genuinely frightening.”
The scientific consensus points to COVID-19 becoming a seasonal illness with periodic waves, though unpredictable variants can emerge anytime. The World Health Organization maintains that countries should integrate COVID management into broader respiratory illness strategies rather than treating it as a perpetual emergency.
Dr. Theresa Tam, Canada’s Chief Public Health Officer, emphasized this approach in yesterday’s press briefing: “We need sustainable systems that can quickly scale up testing, treatment, and prevention measures when necessary, without the extreme disruptions we saw in earlier phases of the pandemic.”
Provincial responses to the current surge vary significantly. Quebec has reinstated mask requirements in healthcare settings, while Alberta focuses on voluntary measures and increased testing availability. British Columbia sits somewhere in between, with “strong recommendations” for masking in crowded indoor settings but no mandates outside healthcare facilities.
“The patchwork approach creates confusion,” notes health policy researcher Dr. Samantha Wells from the University of Toronto. “People cross provincial boundaries constantly, and inconsistent messaging makes it harder for the public to assess risk accurately.”
In my conversations with Canadians across the country, I’ve noticed a distinct shift in attitudes since earlier waves. There’s less polarization around basic public health measures, replaced by a weary pragmatism.
“I’m not interested in debating masks anymore,” says Victor Lamont, whom I met at a Vancouver community center where air purifiers hummed quietly in the background. “I just want to make it through fall without my asthmatic son missing weeks of school or my elderly parents getting sick. So we mask up in crowded places and got our vaccines. It’s just part of life now.”
Healthcare workers like Dr. Sanchez back at Vancouver General hope this pragmatism translates into action that can flatten the current curve. “We can manage this surge, but we need the public’s help. Get vaccinated, stay home when sick, improve indoor air quality, and wear masks in high-risk settings. These things work.”
As Canada navigates another COVID wave, perhaps what’s most striking is how our collective relationship with the virus continues evolving—not disappearing, but finding a sustainable path forward that acknowledges both the virus’s persistence and our need to live fully despite it.
