COVID IN FOUR CHAPTERS
CHAPTER ONE - THE BEGINNING
And we all stayed home.
We hunkered down and filled our pantries,
We read our books, and did jigsaw puzzles,
We howled at the moon and sang on our balconies,
We got reacquainted with our children and our spouses,
We slowed down and simplified.
We social distanced and wore masks and stood in lines to get into
grocery stores.
We supported our small businesses as best we could,
paying our gardeners, our babysitters and our housecleaners
even though we had overgrown gardens, unkempt homes and were caring for our own children.
We declared our essential workers as the true heroes of the day -
not only our healthcare workers but our delivery men and women,
grocery workers, hospital janitors, and teachers.
And we turned off the TV and quit reading the newspapers for the news was never good.
And every Friday we would have happy hour with our neighbors — in the street — six feet apart.
And the days dragged on . . .
And I went to work at a Nursing Home -
Where the residents were lonely and scared and some wondering why their families had abandoned them.
And the families stayed away and were scared wondering if their Moms or Dads, Aunts or Uncles or Siblings were going to survive.
And the staff were overworked and scared and asked me how to keep their families safe.
And I went to work at a Nursing Home.
And I worked 7 days a week and my days consisted of get up, shower, go to work, go home, shower, sleep, get up, shower, go to work, go home, shower, sleep.
And I went to work at a Nursing Home.
And the testing went on and on and some weeks were good and others were bad but they were all full to the brim with fear and anger and frustration as we sat in our chairs ready for our noses to be once again assaulted and called on our phones to notify terrified families and staff of positive results.
And I went to work at a Nursing Home.
And we spent our days reassuring residents who could not be reassured,
changing the routines of residents who could not have their routines changed,
holding phones to the ears of those who could not hold the phones themselves,
being the family that couldn’t come through our doors.
And I went to work at a Nursing Home.
And we spent our days trying to convince our physicians to come in to see their patients,
turning televisions off so the residents wouldn’t be scared by the newscasts,
trying to make sense of the latest new regulations only for them to change the very next day.
And I went to work in a Nursing Home.
And I tried to be strong for the staff, for the residents, for the families and when I went home I cried.
CHAPTER TWO - WITNESS
And on one particular day.
Stephanie decided to give up.
She refused the oxygen, the meds, hospitalization. She refused to fight.
It was she and I isolated together in the red zone
Goggles, gloves, mask, gown - I was weary from the warmth of the PPE, sweat dripping down the sides of my face, across my neck and down my back,
overpowered by the smells of body fluids and sickness,
distressed by the fear and panic of the nurses’ aid who was there to help me not by her choice but because no one else would.
And I held the phone to Stephanie’s ear so her sister could say good bye.
And as I watched her die I internalized on a much more cellular level the reality of the situation
the grief,
the fear,
the anger,
the defeat,
the depletion,
the devastation,
the lunacy of new regulations coming out day after day from people who didn’t know anything more than we did and I knew I could not explain these feelings to anyone who wasn’t living it - just as men returning from war cannot share their war stories.
And when I went home I curled up in a ball in the shower and I cried.
CHAPTER THREE - AFTERMATH
I’m still working in a nursing home and we thought we saw a light.
Our doors opened, our residents laughed, family and friends returned.
We thought we saw some hope.
Goggles and gowns tossed to the side.
Our noses safe from the weekly assault.
We thought we felt the stress melt away.
We took a breath, our shoulders relaxed, we smiled behind our masks, we danced with the residents in our cautious celebration.
Entertainers returned, social dining, ice cream socials, music and games.
Ordinary things in an extraordinary time.
The residents flourished, they got out of bed, they walked with spirit and talked with joy.
Their appetites returned and we decreased their meds.
The wheelchairs once again crowded the halls and we got back to our old routines.
But then . . .
One unvaccinated staff member,
decided to go to Mexico and not quarantine when she returned,
decided to skip the daily screening,
decided to show up with signs and symptoms,
decided to feed a few patients before someone noticed and insisted she be tested.
Positive
Our doors closed, our residents confined to their rooms, their family and friends retreated.
The goggles and gowns returned as did tri-weekly nose jabs.
Another staff member - positive
A resident - positive
Nightmares returned, insomnia, flashbacks of 2020.
The anger, the frustration, the grief, the fear . . . it’s all back.
And so are the tears.
CHAPTER FOUR - REFLECTION
I quit my job at the Nursing Home.
Sadness, stress, fatigue, burn out
I can no longer do my job.
But if not me, then who?
I quit my job at the Nursing Home.
My fellow managers are burnt out, the omicron variant has arrived.
Feelings of failure and desertion overwhelm me but self care is warranted.
I quit my job at the Nursing Home.
Tears over the loss of my team, my residents, their families
Tears over the injustice of it all.
I step back into my old life and eventually the sadness and fatigue melt away.
The tears stop, the weight of the responsibility is lifted.
But the feeling of failure remains.
I reflect on my time at the Nursing Home.
Many left before me, many after, too many to count, burn out is rampant
And we all ask the same question -
If not me, then who?