I'm pretty sure all of us are in the same boat with our concerns about the coronavirus. We are all living through this surreal, yet fascinating time. Most of us are hoping not to get COVID 19. I don't want it either, but I fully expect to get it. I am a nurse at a large pediatric hospital in California. Healthcare workers are the ones who will be on the front lines of this thing. We are going to be there for those who need us. We will be overworked and exhausted, working required extra shifts and longer hours during this crisis. We'll be treated like dirt (or worse) by frustrated and angered parents who need to lash out at someone. We'll be devastated by the patients we aren't able to save in the process, but thrilled when someone sick turns the corner and starts to get better. Working closely with this virus when it comes, we will also be exposed to it...and we'll get sick, too. Some of us (maybe even me) will die.
Although we are all going through the craziness now, I thought I'd start this diary of my experiences during this outbreak. Nothing profound. Nothing enlightening. It will just be my experiences leading up to, during, and following this weird worldwide season of hysteria and illness. Nothing more.
For this first entry, I thought I'd go back to the earliest days of the virus, my thoughts and the actions the hospital went through as the virus started inching closer and closer.
I remember an ominous feeling of foreboding coming over me when I heard that a doctor in China, Dr. Li Wenliang, let the news out of the bag about the virus. Others thought it was no big deal. SARS hadn't been a big deal (here), why should we worry about this new thing? I wasn't so sure about that, but didn't say anything. When Wenliang was infected with the virus, that foreboding feeling really took hold. But when the 38-year-old physician later died, I knew this was going to be bad---and would only get much, much worse before it got better.
All through February, the news grew grimmer and grimmer. The disease was spreading out from China, into other Asian countries, down into Australia and into Europe. Cruise ships became contamination zones.
We joked about it at work.
But then we had cases here in the US. And the number of cases mushroomed.
About two weeks ago, my co-workers were all preparing for the retirement party of a long-time nurse who had been with the hospital for decades. Mike was known for his joviality and remarkable generosity. Many of the nurses from our unit, both day and night shifts, were planning on being there as well as a lot of the doctors and others who worked with Mike.
That Sunday, the first of March, the hospital quietly grabbed up all of the protective face masks from the floors and the stock room shelves. They were hoarding them.
We received word that several conditions that we had previously considered "droplet precautions" (meaning we had to wear masks to enter a patient's room) suddenly no longer required masks. Huh?
On Wednesday, March 4th, I had been "floated" up to the Intensive Care Unit. I was taking care of a baby boy that had had several repairs done to his heart. His mother and three-year-old sister had been in visiting earlier in the shift, but had returned to the Ronald McDonald House at dinner time. They were from a town about 90 minutes away and were staying at the Ronald McDonald facility. Late in my shift, the hospital powers-that-be sent out an edict stating that, until further notice, only the parents or legal guardians of a patient would be allowed in to visit. Siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins or friends were not going to be allowed in.
I had to call that mom and explain the new rule to her. She was wondering what she would do with her daughter and worried she'd lose her place at the Ronald McDonald House because she couldn't leave her daughter unattended there. I'm sure there were a lot of families who had similar reactions.
This was starting to get serious. The first cases in the county I worked in were reported and a few days later the first case in the county I live in was also reported.
I was off on Thursday, the 5th, but I would be working Friday through Sunday. As I typically do the day before I start a long rotation, I went to Costco to get a few pre-mixed salad bowls for lunch and a few other items. I had heard vague rumors that people were buying up bottled water, toilet paper, antibacterial gels and disinfectant wipes. But was shocked to see that all of it was gone (save two packs of disinfectant wipes---which disappeared before my eyes moments later).
The retirement party was on Saturday, March 7th. I had to work that day and the next --and that night was daylight savings time. I'd lose an hour's sleep. On days that I work, I get up at 5 in the morning and don't get home usually until 8 or 8:30 pm. I didn't want to miss Mike's retirement party, but I knew I could only stay a few minutes.
The party looked like it was fun. So many people from the hospital were there. I had some gifts to deliver to Mike, one of which was a WalMart greeter outfit, complete with name tag. That was the perfect gift for Mike, as he loves to gab.
Everyone looked like they were having a great time. In the hospital, especially within our tight-knit unit, the people at the party were not just co-workers. They were also "family". Everyone behaved just as they would at any other time--even with the virus lurking in the backs of our minds.
One thing I did notice was that, aside from one retired physician, none of the doctors from work showed up. Were they all busy or were they concerned about the possibility of infection?
On Thursday, March 12th, I was at work and a lady I work with (she doesn't have a medical background) asked me what I had thought of the president's speech a day or two earlier. She thought he had done a good job trying to allay people's fears about the virus. I told her that I disagreed. The president said nothing about where the test kits were and how to get them. He downplayed the virus and its affect on the entire world. She asked what the big deal was.
"It's just like the flu," she said.
It's not "just like the flu." Every year the flu kills thousands of people. That is true. But it does not ravage the entire planet at once and it doesn't overwhelm hospitals beyond capacity. Just look at Italy and the chaos that their healthcare system is straining under. It is a portent of things to come. Even here in the US, Seattle is already overwhelmed from the reports I've heard. With one out of five patients needing hospitalization and one in twenty needing intensive care, times millions of people, there is no way the hospitals in this country won't be impacted. There are 500,000 people in my town alone. Yes, there are four hospitals, but there is no way they can deal with the number of patients they could possibly have waiting for them in the coming days, weeks or months.
Over this last weekend, I reviewed my work email. The hospital has canceled or postponed many events. They've closed the salad bar in the cafeteria and prohibited other hospital employees who work on campus in buildings outside of the hospital to come in to use the cafeteria. (Strangely, the hospital has kept its weekly farmers market open and has brought in food trucks for those who can't use the cafeteria. Don't they realize that the co-mingling they are trying to avoid will only be worse with the farmers market and food truck options?)
I also got an email identifying myself and three others from my unit (two day shift nurses and two from night shift) as those who will be receiving training on PPE (personal protection equipment). However no other information (like date and time and place of the training) was attached. Why me?
On Friday, following the World Health Organization declaring the virus a pandemic a day or so earlier, the president announced a national emergency. I was working Friday and Saturday. I had heard that people were acting crazy, like it was the end of the world or something. Not just water and toilet paper were being bought up, but everything else was as well. Throughout the day I heard incredible stories of no parking at stores with huge parking lots, long lines forming hours before stores opened and even longer lines within the stores waiting for people to pay.
After work last night, I needed to stop by and buy some lettuce for my tortoise. I was about out and needed to get her some more.
Although I had heard the stories, I was blown away by the reality I saw as I walked down the aisles. There was nothing left. Seriously!
As far as the eye could see, there was a whole lot of nothing.
There were plenty of brussel sprouts though. (Yuck!)
I didn't find any Romaine lettuce for the tortoise, but I picked up a few things any way. However, there was so little to chose from.
O' the humanity of it all...
Continue on the Part 2 HERE
Comments
Please stay safe.
CHEERS!