That someone somewhere
When traumatic moments happen, I used to tell myself that it will be okay because someone somewhere out there in the world will take care of it. I made myself believe in the goodness and selflessness of people to rationalize what was going on. When COVID-19 came, the thought of “oh sh*t that someone somewhere is now me, the nurse” came over me. I remember thinking how I am now the one who will bear the trauma and sickness of this virus. One day, I came to work and was told that I would be floating to what we called the “COVID unit”. My hand shook as I opened the first door into the air-locked unit. Once the first door closed behind me, I opened the second one and joined the other PAPR-donned nurses. Everything was hazy through my Oxivir-stained hood. The only thing keeping me from having a panic attack was the cool air flowing from the hood. My hand shook as I brought my hand up to knock on the door before walking in, thinking about the viral load I was about to face. I walked in and met my patient. We talked about how his night went and how his family is doing, trying to bring some humanism into the situation. My patients have endured a lot and my coworkers have endured a lot. It has been a difficult year and my body has felt the toll both mentally and physically from being that someone somewhere, but I am grateful that my job is the privilege of people sharing a glimpse of their lives with me.