Wednesday, September 29, 2021

2021-9-29: 101 Days Later

Finally, the house has been fully remodeled, after the tornado touchdown on the night of 6/20/2021. It took 101 days -- the entire summer!!

There were countless ups and downs and disappointments during the process. However, today, we were happy to see the end of all constructions. After the last construction crew member left, I couldn't help to feel a bit lost -- Is that it? What do I do NOW??

Walking after dinner felt different. I could smell the autumn with a deep sense of calmness. It reminded me of my college days when we'd walk back from the library to our dorm room at night with the sweet smell of the late summer... I'm sure it will take some adjustments to get used to this worry-free life.

Let's never take things for granted. The sweet, peaceful night is truly hard to come by.

Thursday, September 2, 2021

Dr. Michelle's Facebook Post: 2021-9-2

Dr. Michelle is a 3rd year fellow specialized in Pulmonary Critical Care.


I wish that I could just inundate my social media with photos of rocks and epic tropical adventures and adorable trees grown from seed and have that be the whole story of my life. But it’s not, and as much as I’ve learned that writing politically charged posts accomplishes virtually nothing, sometimes you just have to vent and get the words and feelings out.

Fortunately, since July, I have spent the majority of my time doing research and thus removed clinically from the current COVID surge, though I’ll be back in September as we are now - yet again - at a point where we need extra hands on deck in the ICU. Even more fortunately, I did not have to go into the hospital today, where there was an anti-mask and vaccine mandate rally outside of our hospital doors.

… I try my very, very best to understand the other side and where they might be coming from, because I firmly believe that open and compassionate discourse is among the only things that can get this country back on track. But when it comes to something like this - how do you approach this with any compassion, or willingness to listen or understand? How do you explain the thought process of people who have chosen to take this particular stand in front of a hospital, of all places? A hospital is full of healthcare workers that have no hand in policy-making. Our only focus - ever - is doing the best that we can for our patients. A hospital is also full of patients who currently have Covid; how do you take this stand on the paths that family members take as they’re walking up to visit their husband, wife, mother, father in the ICU where they are currently fighting Covid? I mean, what do you hope to gain here, of all places, by putting up your signs and chanting your chants, except to demolish the remaining morale of individuals who have shown up every day to just try to HELP.

There is such a thing as moral injury, and it is a different entity from burn out. It is not the result of too many hours and too many patients and general exhaustion (though keep in mind, this is happening too). It is the result of having this constant, pervasive feeling that we are not able to do right by our patients in the way that we believe we should. 

How do people and governments treat their healthcare workers like this? I won’t try to speak for everyone, but I think this sentiment is true within many of my colleagues: we will still be here for you. We will be here for you whether you are vaccinated or not, whether you masked up or not, whether you attended this rally or not. We will be kind and compassionate towards you, because every human beings deserves tenderness in their most vulnerable moments. We will do everything that we can for you, as we have been, because that‘s why we went into this profession. We want to help people.

I am just begging people to please, please remember that we are also human beings. We are not infinite in any of our capacities.

Photo is from my second year of residency, floating my first Swan. I was completely ecstatic to be learning this new skill, in an ICU setting which is where I loved to be, practicing good, thoughtful medicine, which is what I loved to do.