Pleasures of the Harbor
Jack Coulehan ~
Of course, I wanted to save you
from all this--from machines
and plastic tubes, from the shooters
with their dyes, from the guys
who scan your organs
for the truth, from waits in cold rooms
whose lights illuminate your life
and make it...nothing. I respected
the darkness in you--your son
dead in a senseless crash, the stroke
itself, your husband's absence.
Sarah Stumbar ~
COVID-19 changes everything--even, or especially, love. It demands that we love differently, and in new ways. For me, this is what #loveinthetimeofcovid19 looks like.
My husband, Lunan, and I are both doctors. Lunan, a urologist, is completing his final year of training in New York City, and I am a family-physician educator at a medical school in Miami.
We are living separately this year--one of the many sacrifices we've made in pursuing our medical training over the past twelve years. Since August, he and I been traveling back and forth to see each other two or three times per month. Now we're not sure when we'll be together again--and for us, that has been the most painful and personal part of the daily reality of COVID-19.
I love being a family physician and caring for my patients, but the mobile health center where I work was shut down this week as we transitioned to telehealth. Without personal protective equipment, we couldn't safely care for our patients within our clinic's tight confines.
Samantha Hammond ~
As I struggled my way through nursing school, I never expected my first job as a nurse to feel like this; I was too busy dreaming of the day when I could hold the title of Registered Nurse.
I never expected to come home crying. I never expected that, at times, I'd mumble the words "I hate my job." I never expected many of the challenges I face daily--but here I am, six weeks into my first hospital job, fighting to make it. Here I am, figuring out what it means to be a nurse, learning what to expect.
It is early afternoon, and I have just finished administering my last midday medication. I emerge from the patient's room to find that five call bells are buzzing; there is no other nurse or aide in sight. I begin to wonder if everyone is purposely disappearing in order to test the new kid.