The first time I cried during this pandemic was March 17 when I read that in Italy people over 60 years old were being left on gurneys in the hallway to choke on their own sputum. Patients with coronavirus had
exceeded the hospitals’ capacity. I had been watching the news and stories from Italy closely in anticipation of what was going to happen in our country assuming we were just a few weeks behind them in this crisis. I cried then not only for Italy but for myself. I wondered if I was going to be one of those over 60 left to die if our hospitals were also unable to handle the potential number of very sick COVID-19 patients.
The second time I really teared up was when I thought about my daughter who is the Chief Nurse Practitioner (NP) on the inpatient orthopedic/spine service at Brigham and Women’s Faulkner Hospital in the Boston area and reassigned to work shifts in the ICU with COVID-19 patients. I feared the worst for my family. That she would get exposed and transmit it to her husband and five-year-old daughter who both have very bad asthma and are allergic to almost everything. We knew this virus was not just killing elders. People of all ages and especially those with underlying conditions were and are still at high risk.
Most of the times I have had tears since then has been watching a nurse or physician tell their story on the news. Describing what it is like to care for intubated COVID-19 patients, helping their patients’ families understand there is nothing more they can do, and sharing the fears they have for their own families when they go home from their shift. I have also cried when I see the stories of family members dying within days of each other from this virus, many of them people of color who are essential workers who can’t stay home.
I have listened to my own daughter describe the days she was assigned to work an ICU shift with COVID-19 patients. While it was not the overall intensity of what we have seen on the news in New York City hospitals, every individual case she described was just as sad and heartbreaking. And the emotional and physical toll on the nurses, doctors and respiratory therapists was obvious.
On the brighter side of this crisis, I have smiled with joy as healthcare workers in NYC celebrate the 500th or 1000th COVID-19 patient discharged from their hospital. Continue reading