Thread by @gradydoctor

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#NarrativeintheTimeofCorona

I saw this mask on the ground while taking a walk today in my neighborhood. For a moment, the wind on my face and my dog tugging against the leash had me thinking that things were back to normal.

But then I saw this.

A jolt back to reality.

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How do I feel? I'm not sure.

We are all unique individuals whose feelings reflect the complexities of who we are. These are tough times in health care. When I don’t know how to feel, it helps me to write in first person through different perspectives.

Today I am doing that.

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Afraid

I want to beat my chest and give a war cry. Swipe paint under my eyes and go running in fearless like the rest. I see my peers entering the middle of the coliseum glaring unapologetically at the enemy.

I wish I felt the same.

I do not.

What I am is afraid.

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Ready

I feel like the 6th man. Hunched forward on my knees watching all the action and waiting for the coach to call me in.

Or for LeBron to get tired.

I’ve been at every practice and have practiced my jumper on my own. I'm ready.

Let me in, Coach. I want the ball.

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Conflicted

I am grateful for someone to be on the frontlines. But I also feel guilty because I’m relieved when that someone isn’t me.

Let me explain.

If I stay home, I can stay safe. And if I stay safe, I can stay alive.

I want to help. I do.

I want to stay alive more.

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Mad

Side by side we ran to the room. Responding to the sirens coming from the monitor. You were air hungry now.

In triage they said you were “a little winded.” Because then you were.

We both scramble into PPE. Fast. We are short one mask. Your BP is falling now. . .

Fuck!

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Disappointed

When I imagined med school? It was this part. Sitting in bedside chairs, asking open-ended questions to real patients who hadn’t been taught a script.

Just 1 week in, they told us to go home. I called my worried dad. He cried.

When I hung up I cried, too.

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Sad

Every time I saw her, she had on her Sunday best. I called her my “model patient.” She said we would grow old together.

“Aren’t you her primary? I wanted you to know.”
“Know what?”
“Your patient with COVID. She expired.”

What?

We will not grow old together. I am sad.

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Pivot point

At first, I was shadow boxing. Because me? I always stood up to bullies. So me? I was like, "Bring it, COVID."

Yeah.

My mouthpiece got knocked out once. I put it back in. It happened again. And again.

Then I saw someone die.

Now I am officially afraid.

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Protector

My job is to harbor you. Teach you and protect you at the same time.

I am proud of your willingness to serve pts. Like well-trained soldiers rushing to the front lines.

I am part general, part mama/papa bear.

You need both. But I do, too.

This is a lot.

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Town Crier

I shout into the ether. No one listens. Or rather, not who I need to listen.

“These are the facts,” I say. “This is what we must do.”

I say it again. And then again. Determined.

I go from determined to scared. To tired.

Back to determined. Until you listen.

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Partner

I send back 🙏🏾emoticons to friends who tell me they are praying for us.

At the dinner table we talk about things like advanced directives and wills. We both put our passwords into a journal.

Just in case.

We clear the dishes. I want to kiss you.

But I don't.

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Optimist

This is hard yes. But since I like history, I know that people DO get to the other side of complicated. And out of the ashes of awful can rise some mighty things.

I can see what’s bad--but I'm not blind to what is positive. And there IS positive.

There is.

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We are all unique individuals whose feelings reflect the complexities of who we are.

Some days, I am none of these people. Most days, I am an amalgamation of them all.

These are tough times in health care. Stories help.

Yeah.👊🏾

#narrativemedicine #COVID19