The last time I posted was March 12, 2020. It was a Thursday, exactly one day before life as we knew it would change. Our schools would close, businesses would shut their doors, offices went quiet, and quarantine went into effect. People scrambled to secure food, toiletries, and cleaning supplies. Families struggled to balance work and school at home, while others were forced to quit, or were laid off, without a promise of their next paycheck. Those who couldn't work from home risked their lives, and their families lives, exposing themselves to illness to support their families. Domestic violence and child abuse rates grew exponentially, and inner city violence, homicides, and crime rates boiled under the pressure cooker of stress, illness, overcrowded public housing, unemployment, and poverty. Healthcare workers prepared for war against an unknown enemy, with an unknown path, and an unknown treatment plan. The healthcare system would be overwhelmed, busting at the seams with endless patients requiring care without any physical space or staff to care for them. We would be held captive by a world wide pandemic of fear, uncertainty, and the unknown. Thousands of lives would be lost, and even more lives would be left behind to pick up the shattered pieces. But yet here we stand, seven and a half months later, stronger and wiser with a greater sense of strength, community and support than ever before.
For so many days, weeks, and even months I held onto "what was". When life suddenly changed, we all held onto the life we knew, the life we loved, and held onto the hope of "when this is over". But, in holding onto "what was", what was supposed to be, what we wanted, and what we planned for, we often lost sight of what we had. We have to loosen the grip on life's plans and expectations and "what was", and learn to hold onto to "what is". We have to continue to connect with others, celebrate our successes and support each other when we fail. We have to remember to get outside, do things that make us happy, be with people that make us laugh and genuinely smile, and celebrate all the little things in life.
I get asked all the time, "How's work? Have you seen anyone with COVID? How's the hospital?". The short answer is "It's OK. Yes we still have COVID positive patients, but it's better.". I've found that when people ask me these questions it is really out of courtesy because they know I work in the Emergency Room in Boston. They know the elephant in the room, but they don't really want to to know the truth behind the answer. They don't want to know about the otherwise healthy young mother who asked us to call her 12 year old daughter before we intubated her as she struggled to breath from COVID-19. They don't want to hear about the teenager who was shot and killed due to gang violence, and the grieving family that was left behind. They don't want to know about the father who has been out of work, unable to support his family, and thinks about suicide. They don't want to know about the middle aged woman who lost her parents, her husband, and two of her children to COVID-19 and hadn't been able to bury any of them. They don't want to know about the single mother of 4 and domestic violence survivor, who has slept in the lobby of the Emergency Room for the past two nights with her four young children with little more than a diaper bag, hoping to find a family shelter.
Instead I chose to tell them about the amazing support the city of Boston has given to our hospital and it's staff. The incredible planning and implementation from all disciplines that went into creating an infrastructure within the hospital and the city that quickly offloaded the Emergency Room volume through additional inpatient units, Intensive Care Units, homeless shelters, palliative care teams, and additional staff. I chose to tell them about the way we worked together as a team during one of the most difficult times, and continued to try our hardest to provide the best possible care for patients despite every curve ball that life threw our way. I chose to spare them of the burden of this pandemic and fill their minds with hope of a hospital, a community, a city, and a nation working together.
It's OK. It's OK to loosen the grips on "what was", and be present in "what is". Its OK to grieve what was planned, what we expected, and what was supposed to be. It's OK to say this is hard, this isn't normal, this isn't how it was supposed to be. It's OK to be appreciative for time spent with family and friends, and a slower pace of life. It's OK to be thankful for finally returning to work, schools, sports, and socially distant events. It's OK to celebrate babies being born, people getting married, new jobs, new relationships, childhood milestones, and finally being able to visit friends and family we hadn't seen for months. We know now more than ever that life is short, a sunrise does not guarantee a sunset, and just how important it is to let people in your life know that you love them. It's OK to take a deep breath in, and belly laugh again. It's easy to get caught up in "what was", but please don't miss out on "what is".
