I was reallocated to a Covid-19 “hot site” primary care facility in the midst of the pandemic, where we treated symptomatic patients (Serle, 2020). I was the only member of our nursing team at the time who had no underlying conditions and no children, so off I went.
I triaged patients in a car park (Callagy et al, 2021). Our aim was to keep them out of hospital. If they were well enough to go home, we sent them home. If they were so unwell that they were likely to die… we sent them home. It was considered a waste of resources to send in the critically unwell if there was little hope of a recovery. Oxygen supplies were low, ventilators were a scarce commodity (Branson and Rodriquez, 2023), and secondary care staff were collapsing from exhaustion.
“I’ve never heard of any counselling or mass debrief after what we went through and the things we saw”
I triaged patients. I made decisions. I then put my mask in a paper bag in a cupboard, putting the date on it so that someone else could use it again in three days (Sarumathi et al, 2020). Our masks were already from an expired batch that had been sent out to us at some point after being relabelled with an extended expiry date. I can remember taking a photo of this at the time; we weren’t sure how efficient they were, especially when reused over and over.
We heard reports of people dead in the streets in China (France-Presse, 2020). Patients were scared. Families were scared. Nurses were scared. We did what we could to stay alive and to keep our patients alive.
One hot day, I was sent out to triage. I put on the gown, the gloves, the apron, the visor, the mask. Donning correctly was a pretty slow process, especially when you are still new to it. It takes time to follow the little guidance posters and make sure you’re doing it right.
As I approached the patient’s car, I realised I’d forgotten to bring my stethoscope. I couldn’t go back and get it, because that would mean entering the dirty side and then going back through the whole donning and doffing process again and discarding all my layers, when we really didn’t have enough personal protective equipment as it was.
It turned out I didn’t need my stethoscope anyway. I could hear the crackles from the patient’s lungs as soon as I got close.
My friends were swapping photos of their lives in lockdown. Learning to mix cocktails, playing Zoom games and sunbathing in their gardens. Meanwhile, I wondered how safe it was to take my mask off to sip water.
It’s hard to think about those times. So many people died. I just had to keep being a nurse, day after day.
Our facility was quiet compared with some of the others. I don’t know how my colleagues at those sites managed. I’ve never heard of any counselling or mass debrief after what we went through – the things we saw, and the fear.
Just like my tired face mask, I’ve put these memories in a paper bag in a cupboard. I peek in that bag very rarely. Sometimes those memories attack me again, unprompted. They hurt, and sometimes painfully linger for a week or so. Like the virus. Long Covid indeed.
Olivia Shaw is practice nurse, Orchard Surgery, Meridian Primary Care Network
References
Branson RD, Rodriquez D Jr (2023) COVID-19 lessons learned: response to the anticipated ventilator shortage. Respiratory Care; 68: 1, 129-150.
Callagy P et al (2021) Operationalizing a pandemic-ready, telemedicine-enabled drive-through and walk-in coronavirus disease garage care system as an alternative care area: a novel approach in pandemic management. Journal of Emergency Nursing; 47: 5, 721-732.
France-Presse A(2020) A man lies dead in the street: the image that captures the Wuhan coronavirus crisis. theguardian.com, 31 January (accessed 18 March 2024).
Sarumathi D et al (2020) Intelligent use of mask in the view of extraordinary shortage situation of COVID-19 pandemic. Journal of Clinical and Diagnostic Research; 14: 8, DE04-DE08.
Serle J (2020) Covid-19 community hubs could become ‘lightning rods for contagion’, warns expert. hsj.co.uk, 1 April (accessed 18 March 2024).