For decades, respiratory viruses seemed to follow a familiar seasonal script. As autumn cooled into winter, influenza returned, respiratory syncytial virus, better known as RSV, filled pediatric wards, and a collection of other viruses circulated alongside them. Hospitals could never predict the season perfectly, but experience provided a rough map of what was coming. Then COVID-19 arrived, and the map stopped matching the territory. More
A long-running surveillance study in Quebec offers an unusually clear view of what happened next. Led by researcher Dr. Rodica Gilca of the Institut national de santé publique du Québec, and colleagues, the study followed people hospitalized with acute respiratory infections across eight influenza seasons before the pandemic and three pandemic years. Rather than looking only for the virus doctors happened to suspect, the surveillance program systematically tested patients for a broad panel of respiratory viruses. That continuity matters. When the world changed, the researchers already had years of comparable observations against which the pandemic period could be judged.
The resulting picture is more than a simple story of one new virus arriving and adding itself to the usual winter burden. It is a story of an entire viral ecosystem being rearranged.
Before the pandemic, respiratory illness hospitals in Quebec and elsewhere showed specific differences between children and adults. Among hospitalized children in the surveillance study, a respiratory virus was detected in more than nine out of ten cases, with RSV especially prominent. Among adults, viruses were detected less often, and influenza was the leading culprit. These patterns had been built from years of observation, making the extraordinary first pandemic season stand out sharply.
In 2020 and 2021, public life changed on a scale rarely seen in modern times. Borders closed, travel fell, schools and businesses shut their doors, many people worked from home, masks became commonplace, and physical contact was reduced. These measures were designed primarily to slow SARS-CoV-2, but other respiratory viruses often depend on the same basic opportunities to spread: people meeting, breathing close to one another, touching shared environments, and carrying infections between households, schools, workplaces, and communities.
The effect on other viruses was dramatic. During the first pandemic year covered by the study, researchers detected no influenza or RSV among the hospitalized patients in the main surveillance analysis. Other familiar respiratory viruses also became far less prominent. In adults, SARS-CoV-2 dominated. In children, however, the story was strikingly different. Pediatric hospitalizations for acute respiratory infection fell sharply, and SARS-CoV-2 was not detected among the small group of hospitalized children included that year.
The contrast is important because the phrase “the pandemic” can make it sound as though everyone experienced the same respiratory disease landscape. They did not. The viruses sending an older adult to hospital were not necessarily the viruses affecting a child. Age shaped the picture profoundly. In the first pandemic year, children accounted for less than four percent of hospitalized patients in the study, compared with roughly a quarter during the prepandemic seasons. Meanwhile, people aged sixty and older made up a much larger share of admissions than before.
But viruses had not vanished forever. As restrictions eased and human contact resumed, the old respiratory cast began returning, though not according to its old timetable.
RSV provides one of the clearest examples. Before COVID-19, its hospital burden in Quebec and elsewhere tended to rise in a relatively familiar seasonal pattern. In 2021 and 2022, the peak in RSV hospitalizations arrived about sixteen weeks earlier than the average prepandemic peak. The following year, it was still about fifteen weeks earlier. Influenza behaved differently again. Its hospitalization peak came unusually late in the second pandemic year, then unusually early in the third.
In other words, “winter virus” had temporarily become a misleading label. The seasons themselves had not moved, but the epidemiological rhythms attached to them had.
Why would suppressing viruses for a time alter what happened when they returned? One possible part of the answer lies in population immunity. Ordinarily, communities are repeatedly exposed to respiratory viruses, and those encounters help shape patterns of immunity. When circulation is interrupted for an extended period, more people may reach the next period of transmission without a recent immune encounter. Babies are born, children grow older, and previously exposed people go longer without reinfection. When opportunities for transmission return, a virus may therefore encounter a population that differs from the one it would have met during an ordinary season.
The Quebec data hint at this changing pool of susceptibility. Children hospitalized with RSV in the third pandemic year were older on average than those hospitalized with RSV before the pandemic. That does not prove a single explanation, and the researchers are careful about the complexity involved. Public health measures, changing behavior, viral competition, evolving SARS-CoV-2 variants, vaccination, treatments, and the natural seasonality of different viruses could all have influenced what hospitals saw.
This caution is one of the study’s strengths. Rodica Gilca and her colleagues do not present the pandemic as a controlled experiment with one switch flipped on and then off. Real populations are messier. Several forces changed at once, and each could affect who became infected, who became seriously ill, and who ultimately appeared in hospital surveillance.
By the second and third pandemic years, that complexity was becoming increasingly visible. The respiratory landscape was moving back toward something more familiar, but it was not simply resetting to 2019.
Among children, RSV again became the most frequently detected virus, while SARS-CoV-2 made a relatively small contribution to hospital admissions for acute respiratory infection. Other viruses, including rhinoviruses and enteroviruses, human metapneumovirus, common human coronaviruses, adenoviruses, and parainfluenza viruses, also reappeared. What returned was a new phase of adjustment, with familiar viruses reappearing at unusual times, with unusual frequency, and contributing differently across age groups. This matters because a season can look busy overall while hiding very different causes beneath the surface.
Adults followed a different path. SARS-CoV-2 remained the most frequently detected virus in hospitalized adults during all three pandemic years, but its dominance weakened. In the first year, other respiratory viruses were detected in only a small fraction of adult patients. By the second year their contribution had increased, and by the third it had risen further still. SARS-CoV-2, meanwhile, accounted for a smaller share of adult hospitalizations than it had previously. The balance was changing in real time.
Public health planning depends on knowing not just how many people are sick, but what is making them sick. A hospital preparing for respiratory season needs to anticipate which age groups may arrive, which viruses are circulating, and whether several threats may peak together.
The study also highlights something that is easy to miss when attention focuses on a single pathogen: respiratory viruses coexist. They may circulate independently, overlap, or potentially affect one another. In children, coinfections were common both before and during the pandemic, with more than three in ten hospitalized children testing positive for multiple respiratory viruses in the later pandemic years. Coinfections were much less frequent among adults. The study was not designed to determine whether having more than one virus made illness more severe, but the findings show why broad testing can reveal a more complicated picture than testing for only a few suspected causes.
There is also a larger ecological question. Viruses compete for hosts, encounter immune responses shaped by earlier infections, and spread through populations whose behavior constantly changes. When SARS-CoV-2 entered this system, it did not arrive on an empty stage. The pandemic then changed human contact so dramatically that the conditions under which all of those viruses circulated were altered at once.
This helps explain why forecasting the future remains difficult. The familiar winter patterns of respiratory illness were built through repeated interactions among viruses, climate, immunity, behavior, and population structure. The pandemic disrupted several of those relationships simultaneously. Some seasonal patterns now appear to be returning, but the addition of SARS-CoV-2 means the system itself is no longer exactly the same.
The Quebec surveillance project is especially valuable because it provides a long baseline for comparison. It followed both children and adults over eleven years and systematically tested for a broad panel of respiratory viruses using a consistent approach. That allowed the researchers to compare the extraordinary pandemic years with multiple earlier seasons rather than relying on a single snapshot.
Still, the findings come with limits. Before the pandemic, surveillance concentrated on periods when influenza activity was high, while pandemic surveillance often covered longer periods of intense respiratory virus circulation. The definition of acute respiratory infection was also broadened during the pandemic, and hospital participation varied somewhat because of severe pressure on health services. Some eligible patients were not included, and results from Quebec cannot automatically be assumed to describe every region. Viral circulation differs across places and over time.
These limitations do not erase the central message. They make it more precise. The pandemic temporarily suppressed some viruses, shifted the timing of others, changed the ages of people being hospitalized, and altered the relative importance of different pathogens from year to year.
For Rodica Gilca and her colleagues, that moving target is itself the reason surveillance matters. If respiratory patterns can change this quickly, public health cannot rely on last year’s assumptions. Continuous, systematic testing gives health systems a way to see the landscape as it actually is, rather than as experience says it ought to be.
The future may eventually settle into a more predictable rhythm. SARS-CoV-2 could become one more regularly circulating respiratory virus, while influenza, RSV, and others recover more familiar seasonal patterns. But the Quebec experience suggests that this transition should not be taken for granted. The next respiratory season may resemble the past without repeating it.
What the pandemic revealed, perhaps most clearly, is that seasonality is an outcome produced by biology, immunity, behavior, and chance. Change one part of that system dramatically enough, and the calendar of disease can change with it. Watching those changes closely is how hospitals and communities prepare for what comes next.