Covid-19: Timeline of Our Stories (Pt. 6)

Hi friends and welcome to the sixth installment of my Covid-19 series. As I mentioned in previous posts, my goal with this series was to share the perspectives of others going through the pandemic. Some posts have shed light on the happier and uplifting experiences this year has brought and others have shared some of the darker aspects. In this week’s post, an ex-health care worker shares how they dealt with the pandemic and unemployment:

The Reality of an Ex-Health Care Worker

2020, a year that would go down in infamy for decades to come. A lot has happened in the span of a year: Deaths of famous people, death of family members, death of America, death of the world. Each month there’s always something new, as if fate isn’t giving us a break, a chance to let us catch our breath. I remember when the pandemic first made news in China, I knew it was going to be something big, and my suspicion was confirmed when it had spread to Europe.

When the pandemic first hit my hometown, everybody at my workplace (hospital) was concerned. What will happen to us? Should we be worried? Do we have enough supplies? Are we prepared? These were some of the many questions we had at the beginning but we had no one to ask. There was no rule book, no guide, no step by step tutorial, nothing.

We had a meeting, where the director told us that there was nothing to worry about and that we needed to put on a brave faces, so that we wouldn’t cause a panic. And so we did. We smiled when we were terrified, we comforted when we cried. We did our best to help those in need, trying to make everything as normal as every other day.

Then the new procedures came: New protective equipment, change of patients, switching of wards, quarantine of some patients. Another pointless meeting occurred with the same reassurance that everything was fine. And yet, we were drowning. It wasn’t until much later when my own doctor pulled me out of work, stating that since I have chronic illness, I should stay away from the hospital environment.

My co-workers understood, they were happy that I was taking care of myself. They smiled for me, because truthfully I was not. I didn’t want to leave. I felt like I was abandoning my post, running away in the face of the enemy, cowering from danger. My colleagues, some who were old enough to be grandparents, pregnant, single parents, injured, have their own health concerns, were staying, risking their lives. Why was I the only one entitled to leave? It wasn’t fair to them…

I was benched, sitting on the sidelines at home, watching the world slowly fall apart more every single day. The first week at home felt like a year. After a while, months began to blend and I lost my sense of time.

I tried returning to work. FAILED. I then attempted to look for another job away from a hospital setting. FAILED. All was in vain. I was too much of a flight risk. I felt unproductive, mentally drained, anxious and stressed. It was a hard change for me, from a stressful working environment trying to help as many people as possible, to just sitting at home alone…

I wish this was some novel where I could end on a happy note like saying I was able to return to work to help those in need again, make a difference in some other way, or simply just find another job. But this is my reality: I have been unemployed for about 7 months now, just sitting at home watching the world pass by through my window, waiting… while holding my breath…

Reflecting on a Serious Reality

As someone who has never worked in the medical field, I can’t even begin to imagine the level of panic and stress that ensued in so many doctors, nurses, CNAs, and health care providers. Even more so, to have to pretend that all is well is something that would be nearly impossible for me to do.

I also can’t imagine the financial stress that comes with being unemployed for an extended amount of time. I was only unemployed briefly until my company was defined under essential workers earlier this year. I wrote about it in part 1 of this series. But even within that small window of time, I felt helpless, unproductive, and faced an identity crisis.

What I appreciate from this piece is the vulnerability that the writer shared. It takes a lot of courage to express anxiety, depression, and mental health- things that all of us face.

Concluding Thoughts

Every experience shared thus far has been enlightening and moving. Whether sad or happy, I’m glad that people get to shed some light on what they’re going through. Thank you for reading the latest post from the perspective of an ex-health care worker and a special thanks to the anonymous writer of this piece.

If you’ve missed the previous posts in the series, you can find them here:

• My Story
• Eric Drury, blogger
• Alden Zac, musician
• Mary, a senior
• Shelby, Redbubble artist

Stay safe, stay healthy, wear your mask and as always…

Good luck on your journey,

Harumi