Page 24 - DMN2Q21

HONORABLE MENTION - JOSEPH J. WEISS, MD MEMORIAL ESSAY CONTEST
THIRTEEN MONTHS
INTO A GLOBAL
PANDEMIC
BROOKE BUCKLEY, MD - CMO, HFHS WYANDOTTE
Thirteen months into a global pandemic, I sit and wonder how I can possibly go on. We came into 2020 with half of the physician workforce experiencing burnout and 400+ suicides a year. Even then, we asked, how can I go on? Standing in the grocery check-out there are many quick answers.... carb detox, yoga, juicing and ultra-marathons to name a few. As I pay for my pop tarts, boxed wine, and chocolate ice cream; internal happiness seems unattainable. Is this as good as it gets? Physicians are now well known for pajama time (Marchalik, 2019), the practice of completing charting after hours, taking time away from family and self-care. Halo, the secure text messaging, sirens in the background as I try to get a moment to tuck the kids in bed. “Why are you always on your phone, mommy?” They ask. I pour a glass of wine and steal a moment in the quiet of the dark. Tears come to my eyes. I am not even certain, at this point, for whom or for what. This is my so-called ‘new normal’.
Covid has seen so much front-line tragedy and extraordinary hardship. Brutal conditions with painful personal protective equipment, causing pressure sores and hoarse voices. Patients, succumbing to a new disease that takes an enormous toll on our resources and resilience. The front line tries to rescue people dying in isolation. We all watch colleagues get pulled under, into the sadness. The strange dynamic of this pandemic, pushing resources on one side, has also left so many furloughed. Practices closed or racing to learn telemedicine to keep doors open. Elective care screeching to a halt due to fear, lockdowns, and the unknown. We carry guilt and sadness in ways that are new but becoming commonplace. Social and economic pandemics calling for justice and equity have raged as profoundly as the viral pandemic. Nothing feels simple or safe.
Strangely, in this fog of sadness, there are moments of intense beauty. Glimpses of joy, triumph, and love are celebrated fervently. As the pandemic wears on, we learn to see happiness in places that would have gone overlooked a short twelve months ago. Hugging a relative, seeing
a friend in ‘real life’, breathing fresh air, and receiving
a vaccine bring meaning formerly lost in the moment. Ironic as it feels, in this darkness we are learning to see the light. The balance promised in those magazines, shared
in bold color and flashy headlines, is slowly emerging in the daily noticing of sights, smells, and smiles. Despite everything lost and exposed, our survival symbolizes
the sacred passage we have made, and will continue to make, with each breath and each day. Maybe this is a new phenomenon. If we had been able to see clearly a year ago, maybe this is how it has always been.
The challenges before us are huge. We must learn new skills as we slowly emerge in hope and love. We will forge a path for the next generations to be more fully awake. As we learn to ride the waves of change more gracefully, we adapt and we survive. The pandemic has forced us to slow down, to pause, to listen. No doubt there are more lessons before us. Lessons where we find hope and the ability to see in the dark. In other words, we are learning balance and what is to love.
Works Cited
Marchalik, D. (2019, June 1). Why are so many doctors burning out? Tons of real and electronic paperwork. Retrieved from The Washington Post: https://www.washingtonpost.com/health/why- are-so-many-doctors-burning-out-tons-of-real-and-electronic- paperwork/2019/05/31/3335ca78-346c-11e9-af5b-b51b7ff322e9_ story.html
24 Detroit Medical News Second Quarter 2021