When significant events impact your life, it’s amazing how distinct the memories adhere to your mind. Of course, I can’t remember what I had for lunch today, but ask me about any day in April or early May 2020, and well…those memories play out like little movies. It was May 7, 2020, and I had just finished my “deployment” (every time I heard this word it always made me chuckle) to the war zone that was COVID central at that time, NYC. While there I saw more need for me during the night, so I had chosen that hospital shift. Therefore, at the end of my assignment I was in a word: drained. It was more than just physical, and I don’t think anyone could have been prepared for the mental taxation of seeing that much devastation. The news reports and pictures didn’t lie, but seeing it in real life gave a whole knew appreciation to the COVID demon.
I remember being terrified before I went about bringing it home with me, so I was never so excited to have someone probe my nose (AKA my brain tissue) asap for a COVID test (I was thankfully negative). I had left the most supportive husband and an incredible almost 18-month-old baby boy at home. He wasn’t walking quite yet, and the darling bugger waited for me. He took his first steps a week later after I returned.
People often would ask me how I could leave my family to go care for complete strangers in a pandemic, where we hardly knew anything about the disease. There were so many reasons I gave to them, but looking back there is only one that stuck: I had the training to make a difference. Those unfortunate patients couldn’t have their families, so it felt fitting that I also wasn’t able to have mine.
As I got off the plane and saw my husband and son for the first time in 28 days, it was a healthy reminder that life will persevere, not all hope is lost. Just remember- always hug your loved ones tight.
