And isolation because we don’t want to be responsible for spreading the virus, knowing that we are surrounded by it on a daily basis. Isolation because no one else can truly understand this feeling, these fears, the toll of this work. But we soldier on. 7/
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Unfortunately, society has proven unwilling to listen to the science or to our pleas. Begging for people to take this seriously, to stay home, wear a mask, to be the break in the chain of transmission. 8/
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Instead, they’ve called the pandemic a hoax, called us liars and corrupt, told us we are being too political by worrying about patients dying and trying to save lives. They’ve stopped caring about our lives, our families, our fears, worried only about their own. 9/
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He was already on high respiratory support and still working hard to breathe so I asked him about his code status and if he would want to be intubated, knowing that was all but inevitable and before the hypoxia made him more confused and unable to answer. 10/
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He said that if a breathing tube was the only way he could survive, he wanted us to do everything we could. So we would. We were out of other options by this point, so we prepared. 11/
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I’ve faced these situations countless times since medical school. Not the intubation - which is routine at this point for me and my team. The swastikas. The racist patients. Every single time I feel a bit shaken, but I went into this job wanting to save lives... 12/
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... and every single time I’ve been able to smoothly and quickly move though those emotions to do so. “They came here needing a doctor, and dammit Taylor, you’re a doctor” is a mantra I’ve repeated to myself when I feel like my empathic core wanes. 13/
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As I stepped out of the room to gear up for a high risk procedure and grab equipment, I checked my PPE. I had my N95, face shield, gown, gloves. Was I safe? Was my team safe? I pause to check and make sure I had all my equipment and backups if needed. 14/
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I run through the meds and plan with the nurse and RT. I pause. I see the SS tattoo and think about what he might think about having Jewish physician taking care of him now, or how much he would have cared about my life if the roles were reversed. 16/
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For the first time, I recognize that I hesitated, ambivalent. The pandemic has worn on me, and my mantra isn’t having the same impact in the moment. All this time soldiering on against the headwinds, gladiators in the pit. And I realize that maybe I’m not ok. End/
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You ARE ok. More than ok. I suspect you intubated the man carefully & correctly. Then eased the Nazi-monster-methhead on to the next step in the complex process of trying to save your patient's life. To ignore the reality of his markings would be to dishonor your own reality.
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