From The Frontline

“This is what we do” was my awkward response the first time someone said, “Thank you for your service.” The sudden attention as a hero in a fight or a soldier in a war has been strange. COVID-19 has driven to the spotlight what we do as emergency physicians: care for someone on what arguably might be their worst day, no matter the circumstances. We have always been there, ready. And we will be in the future, COVID-19 or not. That’s what we do. And behind the spotlight, a cadre of heroic family and friends keeps us all going. -Nadine Townsend Himelfarb, MD, FACEP

Five months into the pandemic and you can see the threads of our social-distancing bond loosen and quickly unravel. One neighbor’s backyard BBQ serenades another’s pool party. Restaurant patios are packed. Advertisers have pulled back on the “In It Together” ads and stock music jingles. We always knew that we couldn’t stay home forever, but what does that mean for the healthcare workers we have been trying to protect? 

I invite you to take a moment and think about a healthcare worker in your life - your college roommate, a neighbor, your own doctor, a relative. Whether they head to the ER or are delivering babies, picture what it is like for them to leave their homes, kiss their spouses goodbye, drive to the hospital, put on layers of protection and get face-to-face with a virus we’ve all been going through hoops to avoid. When I think of those in my life and that I’ve met through See Our Frontliners, I feel the weight and tension they carry with them to work every day. 

If only we could see what they have seen. Maybe then we would understand that this fight is not anywhere near over for them. 

When this is truly past us, most of us will recall the quiet days at home, the frustrations of multi-tasking parenting, working and schooling, the sold out yeast, the yearn to travel but the lack of desire to get on a plane, the awkwardness of trying to talk while wearing a mask, the uncertainty, the Zoom happy hours and the dry hands. It will be looked back on as a weird and difficult time, but those memories likely won’t be as heavy as those of healthcare workers. I can’t even begin to imagine what goes through their minds as they try and fall asleep. What I’ve heard from them and what I feel from my interactions with them is that their experiences are unlike anything they’ve ever been through and that it is all very hard and heavy. In my brief interactions, I’m able to feel the toll it’s taking on these frontliners. Mentions of what they’re going through have included worried eyes of patients taking in their armor of PPE, Covid wards filling with patients, the pain of watching someone struggle to breathe, consoling family members over the phone, stripping off work clothes before coming back into their own houses, hugging their kids and worrying about passing on the virus and testing Covid positive themselves. 

Spending nights being buffeted by waves of anxiety and sadness from my patients has always left me emotionally tired, but I have usually been able to let them wash over me and walk away, letting calm, happiness, and stillness return to my mind as I gain distance from the hospital. In 2020, I find traces of the fear and sadness I experience with my patients are following me home. Instead of the usual dreams I've had since childhood, closing my eyes takes me back to the COVID ward, back behind my layers of masks and I wake feeling as if I've worked instead of slept. I am thankful for my supportive family and friends who keep me feeling loved and grounded, whether we are near or far. They help give me the energy to keep putting on my mask night after night, trying to soothe the anxieties and terrors of a pandemic. - Allison Hayward, MD

But as many of them have expressed to me through See Our Frontliners, this is what they do. They are humans built with extra resilience, humanity and compassion. They want to help people. They want to serve. They are carrying the weight of the fight. They put everyone else before themselves and their families. They don’t need us to do their job. They just need us to understand the crisis, wear a mask, wash our hands and practice social distancing, and to keep cheering them on. 

We are so lucky to have these people on and by our side. Let’s celebrate them louder as states reopen and Covid wards close, because even when there is a vaccine and this is all in the past, healthcare workers are the ones out there keeping us alive. 

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The first night driving into work when the new restrictions and mandatory face masks were put in place I cried a little; all the uncertainty, new procedures, am I putting myself at risk, my family, my patients? How was my patient supposed to see my face as I comforted her through her epidural or as I encouraged her to push? But then the baby was born, took a big cry, was healthy and beautiful and I remembered, ‘This is what I do, this is what I’m meant to do. I help women bring their babies into the world.’ With that simple realization, I took a breath, felt instantly calmer and continued with my job. Because no matter what is happening in this crazy, scary world, babies still need to be born and mothers still need help to birth their babies.⁣ -Felicia Vinci, RN⁣