The Covid Floor

THE COVID FLOOR  

I went to my first confirmed COVID facility yesterday, and I listened to the press conference while I drove there.  The Governor announced that Dr. Acton was stepping down. “NO!” I shouted in my car.  And then I shouted, “What the f—k?!” I couldn’t blame her.  In her farewell speech that following she thanked her “protection team.”  Why should a physician/public health official require a protection team?  She needed and probably still needs one because of the protestors clustered together outside her home, some with guns.  She endured death threats and anti-Semitic slurs and personal attacks—all for simply doing her job. 

I pulled up to the COVID facility where I was scheduled to conduct an onsite survey.  The majority of the work would be completed by phone and online, but I had to put the news about Dr. Acton out of mind and focus and gear up because I was “going in.”  I removed my watch and my wedding ring and sanitized my hands.  I donned my N-95 mask, sanitized again, and headed in carrying my clipboard and a big bag of PPE (personal protective equipment). 

There was only one entrance to the nursing home and there were big signs posted that said NO VISITORS.  I flashed my Ohio Department of Health (ODH) badge and the receptionist who was also the screener buzzed me in, took my temperature, and had me sign a statement regarding my signs and symptoms and my activity in the past 14 days.  I passed and was directed to an office near the front where I sanitized again and donned the rest of my PPE-a face shield, a gown, foot coverings, and gloves.  I had balked at first when my work sent me gloves, but it worked because I didn’t touch anything but my pen and my clipboard for the entire visit.  We weren’t permitted to bring our computers inside or even sit down in order to minimize our time in the building.

The Administrator walked with me in her N-95 mask and pressed all the buttons and opened all the doors.  The second floor was reserved for the COVID positive residents.  On the elevator ride up, the Administrator and I stood six feet apart.  What struck me most as we walked the halls was how quiet it was.  I’ve been in hundreds of nursing homes but I never experienced such an eerie quietness.  There was the hum of oxygen concentrators, but all of the residents were in their rooms in their beds.  Each resident room had its own stash of PPE in a little plastic dresser just outside the door.  The brave staff, the nurses and nursing assistants and housekeepers wore N-95 masks and face shields. The didn’t don the heavy-duty PPE unless they had to enter a room.  They nodded to me quietly as I passed them.  This was a good facility, but they had confirmed COVID cases in the double digits despite all their hard work. 

“I wish those people that harassed Dr. Acton were here walking down this hallway with me. I wish they could see that she was never the enemy.,” I said to myself as I passed room after room.  Did I mention it was so QUIET? I was only in the facility for 30 minutes total.  I thanked the Administrator, told her I had no concerns, and went back to the office to remove all my PPE except for the N-95 mask which I didn’t remove until I was safely inside my car.  I carefully placed it in a paper bag in my trunk so I could throw it away when I got home. 

Driving home I thought about Dr. Amy Acton, our leader.   She wasn’t my direct supervisor but she was the head of our department of about 1100 employees.  I had always liked her, long before we knew there would be a pandemic.  I liked how she sent us emails and video messages that started with “Dear Colleague” and ended with her signature closing, “Be well.”  I liked that our director was a healthcare professional and was a physician, a medical doctor, with a master’s degree in public health.  I really liked that a strong smart woman was leading us.   She came to our surveyor meeting in 2019 and addressed us, and I thought, “Wow, this lady is really passionate about public health.”   Her passion was contagious.  I met her face to face once.  She shook my hand because it was long before COVID.  She asked me what I did for the ODH, and when I told her I was a registered nurse and a nursing home surveyor, she looked me right in the eyes and said, “Thank you for your important work.”  I have replayed that scene and her kind words to me over and over in my mind, long before COVID and even more after COVID.  For me it was like meeting someone famous, and I guess she is kind of famous now.  People all over the country know about her. 

Dr. Acton established the ODH COVID 19 information line in early March 2020.  It is staffed seven days a week by ODH employees from nine in the morning until eight at night.  When I first learned that my “important work” would now include working shifts in the call center from my house I tried to answer every call the way I thought she would do it.  I tried to convey the same compassion and calm reassurance with which she addressed the entire state of Ohio during the press conferences or when she sent us employees a video messages or the brief time, she spoke to me directly. 

In one of the early press conferences Dr. Acton said about the fight against the coronavirus, “I am not afraid.  I am determined.”  

I’ve never served in the military so I’m not sure if the analogy quite works, but I feel like I’m a soldier in the army and our leader has had to retreat for safety.  But I have to keep fighting and continue to serve.  We all do.  The virus is still very much with us. It is not time to declare victory yet, but I am not afraid.  I am determined.