I don’t like change. Never have. Never will. That is, big change that impacts me in big ways for long periods of time. Little changes, maybe okay.
That being said, this COVID-19 crisis sucks.
As soon as we knew at work that this was a real disaster, that it would almost certainly affect us locally and all of our coworkers and patients, we began to plan and to act. Almost immediately, we began to scheme how to put at least six feet between us, how to open doors with door stops so that no one would have to repeatedly touch them to go in and out of the various hallways in our buildings. How to sanitize fixtures and other touchable surfaces multiple times each day to keep us safe. The physical cleaning and distancing and separations came almost naturally as a first step to keep us healthy and safe. I dealt with that okay. Wash my hands even more times than usual. Don’t cough or sneeze openly. Use Kleenex, handkerchief, sleeves. Don’t touch stuff and then touch your face. Got it.
Next came how to distance ourselves from each other while all working in the same building, and how to keep patients from coming in and out, potentially cutting down on exposures for all of us. Six feet of distance. No staff meetings. All info exchanged by email, text or other non personal ways. Screening tent set up outside, signs diverting folks coming to the property to that area for the now ubiquitous interrogatory. Injections given outside in the tent by scrubbed, bescarved, masked nursing staff. The first ever, to my knowledge, management team meeting at our place that was completely done by Skype for Business. Most of us were still in the same building, but we were not dropping by to stand in each other’s doorway to chat, we were not doing sidewalk consultations, and we were not having routine meetings in the mornings or any other time. This was a major departure from business as usual for mental health types, who are used to presenting cases, asking questions, getting feedback and working in a team model.
The next step, pressure from the governor’s office to work from home. Not just a few of us. All of us, or as many as practically possible. This meant rapidly, and I mean in a matter of days, prepping everyone to pull up stakes, take everything needed home, learn to connect with a laptop, cell phone or tablet and access all the tools that we use to do our jobs every day, but in a completely different setting with completely different hardware. In addition to that, to speak with patients by video chat or phone (video encouraged) instead of face to face. This changed in less than a week. Hard to describe in words how monumental this is for many of us, who have sat face to face with patients for decades, looking for clues from odors, mannerisms, movements, gait, speech, expressions and other ways of assessing people and their behavioral problems. Suddenly, our world jumped online. Almost totally.
There are still a few of us literally in the building. I am still doing my Telepsychiatry emergency room work at the office since I have all of my technological rig in place there to do high quality video, etc. I am not set up to do that from home. I do, however, have a new laptop that is about halfway set up to do everything I need to do to run my clinic job from home, bolstered by video access that I can get with my MacBook or iPad. I have about sixty patients scheduled for the clinic this week, so I am not sure where the time is going to come from to make these major changes in workflow while work is flowing, but it will come to pass somehow. Soon, I may be asking for permission to share my wife’s art room studio space for a makeshift office in the corner for me, my Dell, my Mac, my iPad, my iPhone and my virtual patients. Major. Major. Major. Change.
Are there changes outside work? Are you kidding me? As I settled in to do my Telepsych shift in the EDs this morning, I got a FaceTime request from my daughter in Denver. Did not have to think twice about answering it immediately. There was my granddaughter, with a smoothie popsicle breakfast in her little hands. She has been in the habit lately, according to her mother, of calling someone that she wants to check on. Today, she wanted to call her Papa. Well, melt me and wipe me up with a Quicker Picker Upper. This is radical. This is heartbreaking. This is fabulous. This makes me laugh hysterically and sob at the same time.
So. Much. Change.
Such a short time to take it all in.
Has this changed my relationship with my wife? Not fundamentally, not in the least. She is my rock, my confidant, my support when I need it most. I try to be hers and return the favor. So are we both stressed? Absolutely. I work in health care. She works in the airline industry. Enough said. Might one of us be exposed to this little particle and infect the other? Of course. Might we get sick? We’re both over sixty. Yep. Might we have to quarantine? Yep. Can she work from home? Nope. We are okay, but we have had conversations. We will have more.
How am I dealing with all of these fundamental and profound changes?
On the negative side, by obsessing way too much (I do that anyway, on a good day!), by updating, organizing, re-reading, trying to concentrate, trying to stay focused on the task at hand and actually finish it in a timely way.
On the positive side? Listening to music, lots of music, uplifting music. Listening to podcasts. Writing. Journaling. Sleeping when I can. Eating good food. Connecting with family by email text, FaceTime and phone calls. Trying my best to be supportive of my friends and my staff at work. Getting advice and help and guidance when I need it. (I still need it.) Making time for my marriage and my relationship with my wife. Noticing that it is indeed a beautiful springtime outside and marveling at the beautiful colorful flowers in our courtyard, my Japanese maple that has miraculously resurrected itself from the winter doldrums to sprout dozens of delicate red feathery leaves, and the azaleas that are shouting at us, “Look! Look! We are gorgeous! It’s spring!” Watching the doves who sit patiently on their nests at the top of the courtyard’s brick wall under a marvelous cascade of tiny yellow roses. Sitting, blinking, soft and beautiful brown-gray and wondering what all the hullabaloo is about.
I do not like change.
I do not like it in my house.
I do not like it for my spouse.
I do not like it at my work.
Out of my routine I am jerked.
I do not like this viral spread.
I do not like the many dead.
I wonder when it all will end.
I wonder if our paths will bend?
I wonder if we all will learn
That viruses our worries spurn.
They set their own trajectory
And care not one small whit for me.
How has your life changed in the last two weeks? How is it likely to change this next month? How will you cope and stay happy and healthy and productive until this pandemic ends?
Stay safe, isolate, wash your hands and we’ll get through this together.