Personal challenges
For me, COVID-19 has brought the chance to grow and learn, fumbling at times to provide the best care when crisis abounds and when not much can be said to ease the appropriate emotional distress our patients experience. The lines between what is pathological anxiety, what level of anxiety causes functional impairment, and what can realistically be expected to respond to psychiatric treatment have become blurred. At the same time, I have come across some of the sickest patients I have ever encountered.
In some ways, my passion for psychiatry has been rekindled by COVID-19, sparking an enthusiasm to teach and inspire students to pursue careers in this wonderful field of medicine. Helping to care for patients in the absence of a cure can necessitate the application of creativity and thoughtfulness to relieve suffering, thereby teaching the art of healing above offering treatment alone. Unfortunately, replacing actual patient contact with remote learning deprives students of this unique educational opportunity. Residents who attempt to continue training while limiting exposure to patients may mitigate their own risk but could also be missing an opportunity to learn how to balance their needs with making their patients’ well-being a priority. This raises the question of how the next generation of medical students and residents will learn to navigate future crises. Gruesome media depictions of haunting experiences witnessed by medical professionals exposed to an enormity of loss and death, magnified by the suicide deaths of 2 front-line workers in New York City, undoubtedly contribute to the instinct driving the protection of students and residents in this way.
The gratitude the public expresses toward me for simply continuing to do my job brings an expectation of heroism I did not seek, and with which I am uncomfortable. For me, exceptionally poised to analyze and over-analyze myriad aspects of an internal conflict that is exhausting to balance, it all generates frustration and guilt more than anything.
I am theoretically at lower risk than intubating anesthesiologists, emergency medicine physicians, and emergency medical technicians who face patients with active COVID-19. Nevertheless, daily proximity to so many patients naturally generates fear. I convince myself that performing video consultations to the medical ED is an adaptation necessary to preserve PPE, to keep me healthy through reduced exposure, to be available to patients longer, and to support the emotional health of the medical staff who are handing over that headset to patients “under investigation.” At the same time, I am secretly relieved to avoid entering those rooms and taunting death, or even worse, risking exposing my family to the virus. The threat of COVID-19 can be so consuming that it becomes easy to forget that most individuals infected are asymptomatic and therefore difficult to quickly identify.
So I continue to sit with patients face-to-face all day. Many of them are not capable of following masking and distancing recommendations, and are more prone to spitting and biting than their counterparts in the medical ED. I must ignore this threat and convince myself I am safe to be able to place my responsibility to patient care above my own needs and do my job.
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