Friday, November 27, 2020

My COVID musings




The quote above and the included picture were taken from this article: Pictured: A doctor hugged a distraught elderly coronavirus patient on Thanksgiving, after warning the public America is headed for its "darkest days" over Christmas. 

As I write these words, my husband is upstairs, putting my children to bed. We will get to bed early -- like we always do the day before he goes back on shift. Tomorrow he will be back at his 7am to 7pm shifts in the ER.

I stumbled upon the article above, and I sat down in front of my Blog, and I found myself tearing up. My emotions are so muddled. They are weariness. They are anger. They are frustration. They are wanting to give up. They are wanting ...

What do I want?

Let me see if I can put it into words.

I'm not sure if I can explain how it feels to be my husband's wife right now. He's the most amazing man I know. He is a rock. He is a rock star. He is a hero. He is one of the finest human beings and doctors I know. He is compassionate. He is kind. Both to patients and the people he works with. I have never heard someone he works with or someone he has taken care of ever whisper a bad word against him. (Unless they were seeking drugs. Drug-seekers get mad at good doctors.)

In the beginning, I struggled to figure out to help my husband. But as the days turned into weeks and into months and are now pushing close to a year, I've realized that the way I can best help him is to make sure that every minute he is home is as rejuvenating as it can possibly be. He must properly "heal" while he is home with kids, with nature, with me, in order to be able to return to the grind ready to work again.

But here's what is so hard. I feel like everyone is tired of COVID and just wants it to be over. And so they start acting like it is over. They have their Thanksgiving feasts and do all their crazy traveling as if this pandemic doesn't exist.

Except it does!

And my husband can't do what they are doing. He can't just throw up his hands and say: "That's it. I'm done. I don't want to deal with this again."

There are only FIVE full-time Emergency Room doctors in our county of 70,000 people. He can't just not go to work. In fact, if more than one of the five is sick or unable to work at a time, they are in a major crunch. Three doctors is probably not enough to carry the load for more than a few days at a time. 

And so we work HARD to be safe. And to keep John safe. And to make good choices. 

But now, Thanksgiving hits. And everyone does their thing. And when the hospital doesn't have room, what will these people say? That the doctors should have planned better? That there should have been more space made? More nurses created? More doctors than actually exist?

It hurts my heart and makes me want to cry. And I do cry.

My husband doesn't. He puts his head up and pushes onward. Onward. The next day. One foot in front of the other. The next patient. The next sickness. He just keeps going.

And then he comes home, and he birds. He gardens. He tends to his sheep. He rests. We play games. And watch movies. And simply ... are.

But I want, so badly, for COVID to just be over. So does he.

But it's not.

So please, don't think it is. I know it’s hard. You have to weigh physical and mental health in what you choose to do. But it IS important that you keep “warring” with us. 

Please keep being smart. Don’t quit!!

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