Saturday, June 13, 2020

Estoy contando los días.

The burden of COVID19 reached a new low this past week at Westchester. The remaining two COVID units staffed by surgical staff were disbanded, the remaining patients consolidated in other units, which in turn freed up the few surgical residents that had been assigned COVID. Those residents were reassigned to various surgical services after discussion amongst ourselves and then appropriate teams were notified of the upcoming resident coverage changes.

One of the current chiefs, unhappy with how the reassignments had affected him and his team, called me angrily demanding to know who had made the decision. Just one example of the many angry conversations I've been having over the past few weeks. Although one could say I'm used to being yelled at; doesn't make it any more enjoyable. I own up to the fact that, in general, I have a serious personality, but defend it by offering that I at least can still appreciate a joke and love to laugh and smile. I think I've smiled twice in the past two weeks, and both times it was forced. If not the truth, it honestly at least feels that way. Between managing the trauma attendings, and attempting to transition our program into a new year I'm not having a whole lot of fun currently. At the same time, and on a more positive perspective... I'm definitely praying exponentially more. It's more of a pleading. Begging for an increase in my ability to love. It's gotten me through many a conversation. Thankful I can forever rely on an unending supply!

Back on a COVID note, our hospital has now settled into a semi-normal setting. The halls are busy again, as all nonessential workers are starting to return to their offices. How the virus is affecting my patients specifically is the fact that every patient that presents to the hospital is automatically on precautions as a "rule out COVID" until their swab results come back. Imagine it, you just fell off a ladder, or wrecked your motorcycle, or jumped off a bridge. You've been wrapped up and whisked off to the hospital where you're intercepted by a swarm of blue-gowned, masked and shielded aliens. Before you can blink you're clothes have been cut off, catheters inserted into veins and everything that hurts poked and prodded... but wait that's not all. To top if off, swab goes up the nose until your brain is tickled. Just in case you weren't hurting before, you do now!

It's necessary, almost daily I have trauma patients whose swabs come back positive. Asymptomatic from a COVID perspective they still get sent to the COVID units, unsafe to be mixed with non-COVID patients.

Much Love and Prayers!

No comments: