Covid-19: Five Short Chapters

Chapter 1.

At the little hospital break room, CNN. Wuhan, January. Coworker said “oh look- this is really bad.” He used to travel to Thailand every year.

I thought, this guy watches too much TV.

Chapter 2.

March 10, Covid ER unit opens. I was floated down there as part of a small nursing team to screen ER Covid walk- ins. The unit stayed empty that first evening, fortunately.

Also a separate enormous tent had been set up in an outdoor garage structure, just outside the ER, for any surge contingency.

That looks exactly like you’d see for a major earthquake, I was thinking as I came to work that day.

I wondered about the quarantined ship Grand Princess, and when and where the affected passengers would be taken. There were whispers that some would be brought here, but these were not born out.

March 10 the hospital is locked down by City ordinance. No family, no visitors. One checkpoint to enter. It’s a twilight zone now.

Chapter 3.

March 17 all Covid precautions are in place. Legal forms are available to sign for those nurses who consider conditions unsafe.

The precautions are in place, but in some respects tightened. The infection control person is everywhere, educating, reinforcing, correcting, revising. “Hey, take your mask off. Hey, put your mask on!”

Now, of course, masks are mandatory at all times.

No visitors, no family, and one checkpoint to enter.

Chapter 4.

Patients are only tested if they have fever and shortness of breath.

Gradually it becomes apparent that some testing is available. It was obvious that testing was initially severely limited.

Patients were either positive or negative or “rule out”, meaning not considered Covid.

Chapter 5.

March 28 or so I transported a body from ICU; patient had passed away in the Rotoprone Bed, which rotates a critical patient safely into supine position to relieve symptoms of ARDS, acute respiratory distress syndrome.

Everyone in gown, mask, goggles, gloves. I took the deceased on the special gurney through the back hallways below to the facility’s holding morgue. (Hello, Mr President, how’s your night going?)

Covid positive patients required total care. There weren’t many, perhaps three or four rooms with precaution tables outside the door. If you have PPE you’re technically not exposed to the virus, so …that’s good.

So today…

Hospitals are now ordered to maintain 35% capacity for a possible surge.

Our facility appears ready. It’s empty. And ICU is expanded, doubling its capacity of beds. It now has the look of a large open ward. Ready.

Extremely low census now. One med/surg floor is closed, one remains open.

“At least we’re working/ oh shoot, I have to work!” is the good news/bad news of the situation.

Now some staff is getting furloughed or using up holiday pay.

No one knows how this is going to play out.

This isn’t over.