Nursing is different now.
I am a Registered Nurse. 16 years now, and I’ve seen a LOT of things. I’ve shared space and air with tuberculosis, swine flu, MRSA, scabies and bedbugs. I’ve watched life enter this world, and one hundred times over, I’ve watched life exit. Strangely enough, there is beauty in both of those things, sometimes. If it’s done correctly.
Being a nurse right now is different than anything I’ve ever experienced. Not just because this virus is something so new, something that doesn’t contain anything that we’ve ever been exposed to before which causes us all to be susceptible to it. Not just because it has the capacity to collapse health care systems due to everyone getting it at once. Not just because it’s killing our economy. Not just because it’s killing health care workers. Not just because our government is so unprepared and lacking in providing us with what we need to be safe. Not just because it’s killing multiple members of the same families. Not just because so many people have to die alone… that is not doing it correctly. There is no beauty in that kind of death.
Not just because I’m a nurse with an underlying condition which causes my immune system to be compromised. Not just because I have to take my shoes off outside my home before I come in, then disinfect everything I touch after work so I don’t infect my children. Not just because I worked the first few weeks of this pandemic with no mask at all, entering homes in which I have zero control of who comes and goes, or the cleanliness of it, or who is answering honestly when I ask if they’ve been in contact with someone who carries the virus. Not just because I now wear the same single-use cotton surgical mask for 6 patients, and have a donated N95 that will not fit properly, but it’s better than nothing. Not just because even though I screen patients for symptoms before I enter their homes, I still have to cross my fingers that they don’t come down with a fever the NEXT day. Not just because I became sick this week, and spent 3 days wondering if I had caught it, despite my hands being cracked from so much washing. And not just because the nasal swab for Covid 19 is so uncomfortable, it feels like they are almost touching your brain.
What’s most different about being a nurse right now is that there are people out there who don’t believe that any of what I said is as bad as I say it is. There are still people out there who are against fighting this thing. Concerned about their rights being taken away by not being able to go to the beach when they want. Thinking it’s a government conspiracy designed to take down capitalism. Or a conspiracy just to control us for whatever reason. There’s still people out there who are angry that Covid deaths are being reported in the news. They call it fear mongering. I’ve seen people, even a rural doctor in Montana, accuse doctors of falsely writing down Covid 19 as cause of death on death certificates. Many people wonder why we aren’t focusing on the people who recover, and only reporting those infected or the deaths. Some even hint around that the urban areas affected the most by this virus are hurting so badly because their city is “dirty”, without a single comment in regards to the sadness of such loss of life.
Listen, I get it. Well, part of it. We are ALL freaked out by this. We are ALL negatively affected by this. And we ALL respond differently. Because we are ALL human. This crisis has resulted in a lot of fear. Some fear dying. Some fear poverty. Some fear isolation. Some fear loss of freedom. I’m sure there’s a lot more fears that I’m blissfully unaware of.
But… as a nurse, as a person who spends almost every day NOT socially distancing from the sick people in my community, as someone who has held the hands of dying people for over 16 years…it feels like a slap in the face to hear and read these types of comments. Not just to me and the other health care professionals who feel like they are putting their own lives in jeopardy, but for the families of those who have lost their lives to this virus. Would you ever complain about the news reporting the number of drunk driving fatalities? How crazy would it be to hear someone report how many people LIVED after drinking and driving? Should we stop reporting how many women die from breast cancer and only focus on the one’s who don’t? These people aren’t saying “stop trying to scare me with all this mammogram talk…it’s fear-mongering.” They are only saying it about this. Because it’s affecting their lives and they are afraid. Of course we are trying to scare you. This thing can kill you, and we have no proven treatment, no proven prevention, no vaccine, no medication and no immunity. The only thing we can do right now is what we are doing… isolating. And that’s likely why the numbers are lower than projected, because the isolating is somewhat working. Yes, “flattening the curve” prolongs the length we have this danger, but that’s the point. Hopefully, it will save more lives that way.
This is a joint effort.
I am well aware that we all respond differently to the same scenario, based on our perceptions. Based on our experiences. That’s our filter. It’s our lens of life. It’s what separates us from robots. I’m all for having your own opinion. I’m all for freedom of speech. And I completely understand what it means to be emotionally reactive to a stressful event. I’ve found myself behaving that way just this week, even though being reactive is something I’ve intentionally been working on ridding myself of for quite a few years now. Hey, I’m human, too. But not once have I said that people losing their income, economy statistics, and businesses closing… is falsely exaggerated. I have never said it’s “no big deal” that someone lost their job. Just because I’m still getting paid, doesn’t mean you aren’t hurting. And though I do put life above all else, it does not mean I don’t have compassion for what you are going through. But, I do think the potential for financial recovery is there, whereas there is no recovery from dying.
So, to the people I’m referencing… just stop it. Stop telling me you have no concern for me or my family, or my colleagues or their families, or my patients or their families. Stop telling me you don’t care about people who live in urban areas, who have underlying conditions, who live in countries with socialized medicine, who are old and might die anyway. No one is disposable. No one.
People who have lost someone they love, are reading what you say. I can’t even imagine how that makes them feel. Above all else, this crisis is revealing the true capacity of empathy within our society. And the majority of it, has been heartwarming. Donations, complying with social isolation, reaching out to strangers with offers of help. Offering online services, for free, just to help people mentally cope with the isolation. Melissa Etheridge plays a free concert for us on Facebook every single day. I’ve had members of the community thank me for my service, like I’m in the military. It blows my mind. There’s so much good-will in our society. It makes my heart smile. So, these outliers who I’ve described, really shouldn’t affect me the way they have, but they do. I’m working on not letting them affect me, and just focusing on the positive, on doing my job, on keeping my family and community safe. Even the nay-sayers. And though I’ve exchanged some difficult words and had to put some people outside of my circle this week, I’ll still send positive energy their way, and pray that no one in their lives gets harmed from this virus. I will not say “I told you so.” Because no one is disposable. I just have to do it from afar. That’s how I take care of myself. Nurses need care, too.
Yes, nursing is different now.
This post was written in response to Linda G Hill’s SOCS
