Frontline Workers

The fear of the unknown — where I’d be working, what I’d be doing — it was unsettling, and it came fast. Now, I am doing employee and member screening at the front door of the Capitol Hill Medical Center. It’s a daily struggle to put your game face on, but I know I’m not alone. If I can alleviate just one person’s fear or educate just one member about spread, I’ve done my job and helped someone. That’s what keeps me going. Despite everything that’s happening, I feel like I know almost every doctor and nurse in the building. I will be excited to return back to my team again, but until then I know I’m not alone and we’re all working as a family.

Four of us grievance representatives are working at the curbside pharmacy and COVID-19 testing pilot site outside the Corona Medical Offices in Riverside. This service is by appointment only, for high-risk patients who need to pick up a prescription or be tested for COVID-19, or both. Many of them are visibly sick — and they don’t have masks or gloves or anything — and they start coughing. Some are angry. But they’re all anxious, and they’re scared. If you can stay calm and controlled, they respond to that. It’s a good feeling when you see them ease up. At that point you just get them the help they need.

It is an honor to have the knowledge and expertise to help a patient struggling to breathe by placing a breathing tube. It is an honor to stand next to some of the most brilliant, dedicated, and brave colleagues. It is an honor to know we make a difference and we just may save some lives. It’s also an overwhelming mission. In an already stressful job, our families and friends routinely provide relief from the stress. We look forward to that respite. COVID-19 has taken that from us. We are under the most stress we have ever experienced, and we cannot see our families or friends for fear of making them sick. This is so trying. But we try to focus. We have a job to do, and we have each other. That helps me take a deep breath.

I had a patient who was very sad and upset about possibly contracting COVID-19. He explained that he had a gun at home and was thinking of killing himself. I was shocked and scared for him, but I told him to have faith and peace. I referred him to Social Services. A few days later he came back and brought me a flower and a card. He told me that nobody had ever talked to him so beautifully, and it gave him hope to live. I think one of the best things we can do right now is give people hope.

Families are incredibly anxious. There’s a lot of misinformation out there, and it’s our job to allay their fears. You just listen to them, give them the facts, and tell them ‘we’re here for you.’ Keep a brave face. Calmness is contagious. If you remain calm, everyone else will remain calm with you.

Our team of physicians, nurses, and amazing staff members have all come together in one big support team like no other time before. The current situation has helped break down barriers. We are all equal, and we have learned to jump in and help each other without hesitation. Knowing I am not alone in this crisis makes all the difference to me. Our patients are experiencing anxiety, and so are we. By always being kind to one another, we can meet this moment and the ones that follow.

As a nurse of 44 years, I can say this is something that we all trained for — to be on the frontlines and to make a difference for people who are sick. This is our chance to rise to the very best of who we are and what we can do. I don’t think any of us thought in our lifetime that we would be part of a pandemic. Now we’re living it, and we’re seeing some of the most incredible work, care, and selflessness coming from our nurses at the medical centers.

I spent the morning with an elderly patient who was grateful to be seen as the clinics are closed. He questioned if he should even be out in public but needed follow-up after a recent eye surgery. After the exam, he asked if he could chat for a few minutes because he wanted to talk about his deceased son who was a scientist. I realized I’ve taken these precious interactions for granted. Usually my schedule is packed with back-to-back exams. But today, I listened and acknowledged this proud father and what his son had accomplished. This 84-year-old man was seen and heard. His vision and eyesight were secondary. I love my job.

Sometimes it can get extremely emotional and physically draining, seeing our sick patients and our tired staff. Our patients have become our family, especially if their family cannot be here in the hospital with them. The toll of the situation can sometimes be hard to manage. I wasn’t taking care of myself. A fast, pounding heart rate and blurry vision were some of the symptoms that hit me while I was driving to work. I was able to get help and see a doctor, who diagnosed my anxiety attack and prescribed rest and fluids. I was also dehydrated. Now I’m taking care of myself first — because if we get sick who will take care of our patients?