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fourth anniversary;

we are just about to come upon the fourth anniversary of covid lockdown. it is amazing how fast time has flown. hospitals have all but returned to normal with normal illnesses with normal recoveries. but the emotions and trepidation we felt back during the start of the pandemic still longers deep in my soul. all these memes on social media about the pandemic, it stings something different. perhaps it is a little bit of ptsd although we are reluctant to admit it. but i am transported to a completely different time and it is almost as if i am watching myself as one would watch their dying self. the emotions, the stress, the unknown clouds over the memories. never have i ever experienced life as it happened in 2020. people my age and young were succumbing to death. i have vivid moments through the haze. n95s being reused for weeks until they were broken and barely hanging on by the straps, much like we were. i saw a colleague become ill, deteriorate, and die. the disassociation we have is real. i have had covid now three times - nothing major but still mildly surreal. i survived while many did not. we were hailed as healthcare heros but fast forward to 2024, we are back to being the public's punching bag, sometimes quite literally. this has had many of us question our roles as healthcare providers. why did we do this again? what is our why?

#covid

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three years;

three years. three long years for a pandemic that seems to be finally dissipating. life as we know it has moved on. being a healthcare provider, it has been a most surreal experience. now, we are back to mostly open visitation and optional masking. whenever i recall the beginning where hospitals were all but a warzone, there is an unsettling feeling that sit in the center of my chest. an anxiety that once plagued me relentlessly. never again do i want to experience what we all endured - the constant barrage of death and the helplessness that was hand in hand. the daily psychological distress that likely will linger for the rest of our lives. our careers have forever been changed, some for the better, others for the worse. we once were hailed heroes, but as of late we are treated less than human. the entitlement of patients and families alike is appalling. there is a severe lack of respect for our professions, from verbal abuse and veiled threats. the culture of healthcare has been permanently changed. 

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days turned into months, months to years and i am still feeling emotionally numb to what is now a chronic covid reality. it is the same old routine patients who are unvaccinated dying after weeks of suffering ever still ignorant to their last breath. i am tired. we are tired.

#covid

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Saying goodbye is never easy, even when it is time. Nanna, you were the epitome of love. As we look to the future, there will surely be a void that will always ache in our hearts. But the memories of a lifetime, stories passed down from one generation to another, mother to child, grandmother to grandchild, this will be the legacy to which we hold tightly. After a year and a half of covid, I will be forever grateful you were able spend your last days in the comfort of your own home, surrounded by the family your love has brought into this world. There will come a time when the pain is not as prominent and we can slowly begin to heal. But I take comfort in the knowledge that the angels have gained a beautiful soul, and you have been reunited with your true love, my Grandad. Together forevermore. It is those beautiful memories of and with you both to which I will hold in my heart until my dying day. While we grieve, I know you are finally at peace. Thank you for your love. I love you and miss you. Xoxo

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it has been about a year and half into our pandemic. while the numbers have drastically reduced in the hospital setting, the despair of death associated has not relented. as society begins to have a sense of normalcy, reverting back to our old way of life, those of us who have been on the frontlines are exhausted: exhausted of the non-believers; exhausted of the anti-vaxxers; exhausted of how wearing masks to protect your fellow man turned into a political statement. just plain exhausted. there has not yet been rest for the weary.

tonight as i sit here letting my thoughts flow, possibly unwisely with a glass of wine, i reflect on the past year and a half. i know for a fact frontline healthcare workers will have varying degrees of PTSD from this pandemic. myself: how have i become almost numb to the constant barrage of death (that has thankfully begun to slow)? many pleasures i used to derive through my senses (coffee, freshly mowed grass) are muted and/or changed; and the long-term damage still remains unseen. i still watch daily as those afflicted with covid-19 struggle to breathe, struggle to survive, when ultimately you become so intuned with knowing who will not leave the hospital alive. it is a sad reality to live daily. when their lungs are so damaged and we know the medications are all but futile, we know the end the fight when we see it.

but despite all the sorrow, there is joy to be found. when you encounter like minded individuals who strive to do the right thing, regardless of the pushback, that is an indication of hope; that is a testimony to how resilient we as people can be. and as this pandemic slowly goes away, and it will in time, we will be stronger for it. 

"There's always hope dear, there's always hope." (John Long)

#fuckcovid #covid19 #hospital #healthcare worker

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On this New Years Eve, it marks the end of an unprecedented year of social distancing and virtual life. Unlike any other New Years Eve this is a very somber reflection of all the grief and death we have witnessed. And it will only continue to rise in the following months. Never before in our lifetime have we seen a biological disaster ravage the world as much as this pandemic has. As we get closer to ringing in the new year, let us take pause for the lives which have been lost to this unrelentless virus. Let us have a moment of silence and respect for the families who have said goodbye to their loved ones. And let us have that inkling of hope, buried deep within us, rise from the ashes like a phoenix and flourish in the new year.

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I wish for times where I was not so nonchalant about death. This year has been an emotional roller coaster and I am sadly unboarding with only numbness to fuel me forward. May there eventually be better days ahead.

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on the eve of christmas my patient died

and while they lost their parent

still did they pray for us, the front liners.

it has been a year since this vicious virus

began to rear its ugly head.

and still, our patients continue to die alone.

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late night after a long day

lost in the throes of insomnia

wanting so desperately to sleep.

longing for a break from a running mind

though it usually transcends to dreams

like the endless depths of a rabbit hole

falling further and further down.

nearly midnight, still wide awake

scrolling endlessly on social media

mind-numbing entertainment

for a weary soul.

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and so the cards have fallen trickling down to the ones who care for us your healthcare providers are now incapacitated a floor full of patients with limited caregivers for we are ever always the martyrs of a pandemic.

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this has been a year unlike any before, where as the holidays are fast approaching, we sometimes struggle to remember for what we are thankful. we have lost countless people globally, entire families wiped out by a relentless virus. we have had wave after wave, people struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy while attempting to be protect themselves and their loved ones. 

during my quiet and pensive moments, i do reflect on the home away from home, the family away from my own family. healthcare is a demon of a profession, one in which you learn dark humor to cope with the cycle of life and death and the everyday nuances of the job. your coworkers are your work family, and during this ongoing pandemic, we rely on them more than ever to get us through each harrowing day. there is no one else who quite understands exactly what we are going through than those who fight with you. teamwork makes the dreamwork, and in our case, it makes the difference between life and death for those in our care. this year, i am more than ever thankful for my fellow frontline workers, the ones who make my charge days far more bearable, the ones who lift me up when i start to fall, and the ones who have seen me weep when we lost a friend.

as much shit as this year has thrown at us, i am forever grateful and honored to call my work family my friends. without your ongoing support, none of us would be able to withstand the constant onslaught of death every day. thank you to each and every one of you.

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I watched for several hours as a patient slowly declined, being chemically coded long enough for family to come and say goodbye. Blood pressures no longer life-sustaining despite multiple maxed out vasopressors. As shift change rolled around, the heart rate dropped, longer and longer pauses, until finally it showed asystole. A code blue was called, we all knew it was futile, a short code, there was nothing more to do. And just like that, we all went back to work. It has become all too common, we have become numbed to the constant assault of death. It has now become just any other day; momentarily grieve for a life lost, and then continue on. We persevere because we have no choice. We persevere because we must. We persevere so that the next patient may possibly have another chance.

#COVID19 #hospital #healthcare worker

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and for a moment, it seemed that things were improving. numbers were down, more of our normal patient population devoid of covid were filling up the beds. we were down to a mere five covid patients. and then over the weekend, the covid beds started to encroach the unit. one by one, bed by bed, numbers rose back up into the teens, settling right at fifteen today, on the critical care unit alone. and so the cycle of death begins again, as patients progressively worsen, leaving them to die on ventilators. it has been seven months of minimal reprieve. and oh how do we crave for the life before.

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The son came to see his dying father. Frail, elderly, the disease caught him and clung desperately. The ventilator keeping his tired, damaged lungs barely functional to feebly support his vital organs. But he was maxed out on settings, and truly was only a matter of time until death claimed his next soul. The son, seeing his father in a medically induced coma, still did not believe that Covid-19 was real, or at the very least, as fatal as was made to be. Perhaps it is either from grief or ignorance that this man did not understand the severity of this relentless virus. He refused to don PPE that was set aside from him as he came to see his father for the last time. While he denied the virus, he did not wish his father to suffer. Withdrawal of care orders were signed and initiated. Out came the tube as his oxygenation levels began to plummet. The son was allowed two hours to hold his father’s hand and bid his final farewell. That night his father died, another victim.

#Covid19 #hospital #healthcare #death

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Walking though the woods, on a well-worn hiking path, there is a distinct scent of autumn. The crisp, cool air brushing the center of my spiritual core, a giddiness rising upwards and outwards. There is a specific fragrance that lingers every so often, a reminder of a long forgotten childhood. It is an immediate transport back through time, when life was much simpler, consisting of childish games of magic and climbing trees like pirate ships. I feel the most at peace when surrounded by nature, devoid of any human contact. This is where I feel God’s presence: in the trees, the wind, the radiant sun, the overlook of mountain ranges, and in my feet softly contacting the earth. It is at the summit where victory lies, and a moment when time briefly stops as my eyes drink in the majesty of God’s creation.

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two days ago, my patient had told me: “i really appreciate you.” they were in a confused state of mind, but clearly possessed a kind soul. this is a brutal virus; remdesivir and convalescent plasma were futile. all i could do was offer human compassion and hold their hand.

today they died.

#hospital #covid19 #healthcare worker #mental health #nurse #pandemic

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almost at the cusp of deep sleep

but jolted to consciences

paralyzed, desperately trying to move an inch

frightening incomprehensible whispering

and a sense of looming dread.

sleep paralysis, a frequent reoccurrence

my entire body tingles in waves

from head to toe, like blood rushing back.

i can see the outline of my hand

through heavy lidded eyes

my brain screaming for movement

to blink, to move an arm, leg, anything.

the whispering intensifies

as my body tries to fall asleep

while simultaneously attempting to wake up.

a constant tug of war battle

usually i win, breaking free, fully in control

other times the imaginary demon wins

and i spiral down into the abyss.

it is an uncomfortable experience

but it has become mostly just aggravating.

#sleep paralysis