.........SADDLE UP.........

You may be angry. You may be sad. But underneath it all, there lies fear. Take one person's sense of control, and everything becomes out of control. This is not for the faint of heart or those who want to blame and even point fingers. The actual problem is COVID-19. For that, I'd rather be judged for being honest than be loved for being fake. So, saddle up and listen to my words as a professional and human being. 

I have been wearing a mask since February 2020, when word of the virus started attacking the world and everyone's views. A deadly, life-changing pandemic disrupted all walks of life and still affects so many people. Despite your ethnicity, gender identity, race, skin color, age, or anything else you identify yourself with, COVID-19 is the problem. 

I remember showing up to work with my mask on when things were still under control and were all just a hoax (I got to love the media). I was told by a physician that I was not able to wear my mask and eye shield in the hospital because it instilled fear and made patients feel uneasy. Is it my choice to wear it or not? Plus, I was very up-to-date with hospital policy. I continued to wear my mask, as I still do to this very day. Sometimes, I see that same doctor in the hallway and wonder if he thinks back on our interaction before it all started. It does not matter to me, but I still wish it was all under control and just a hoax. 

Then came my updated emergency death wishes or my will; may you have it. As people around me were dying in the hospital from complications associated with COVID-19, I decided I better change 'things' during this time. I am categorized as high-risk or likely to get severely ill if I contract the virus. My ticket into an ICU was to have hypertension, obesity, complex sleep apnea, and smoking cigarettes. After a long, devastating, physically and emotionally exhausting shift, I sat at my desk and typed up when to "pull my plug." I gave a copy to my partner and my parents. I wept as I read the paper to my family, knowing there was a strong possibility that I might not come out on the other side. However, the best part during this devastating time was learning how proud I am to be fighting this virus on the frontlines. Not even once did I say, I wish I could stay home. I signed up for this and rose to the occasion with all the other superheroes. Don't get me wrong, it hit me hard at first for a split moment. 

I heard the alarms going off. I quickly donned up the limited supply of personal protective equipment (PPE) and rushed into the patient's room. Their oxygen levels were dropping, I pressed the call light, but no one was around. I open the patient's door and yell out for a non-rebreather down the hall. Someone pages the doctor, and I close the door and hurriedly place the nonrebreather on the patient. At that moment, I realized it was just the patient and me. Rewind moments before, the doctor was reaching out to the family. They call back, and the family speaks to me. My heart sank, and I felt helpless. I knew the truth that their loved one would not survive COVID-19. I returned to the patient's room, reassuring them their family loved them as I gently held their hand. I did my best to keep that patient comfortable and alive for 30 minutes more so their son could come and say goodbye. All while, I hope my three other patients will remain stable till then. 

I knew at that very moment that this was real. The family came. I gowned him up (in the beginning, you could say goodbye). He was one " lucky " to say goodbye to their loved ones. I left the patient's room, and it hit me; that moment I spoke of earlier when I broke down. I gasped from hyperventilation as I Sobbed my eyes out in the bathroom. I wiped away my tears, splashed water on my face, and shook off my grief. Until today, words can never describe the heartache that is stuffed deep inside my soul. I still never regret being a nurse or being that last face for those that felt alone and scared.

The second wave came, and the hallways in the hospital were silently filled with despair. My shoulders were heavy, and we all walked slower. There was no time to breathe. We barely caught a breath or had a moment to hug our loved ones; we feared the worse as we went to work every day. People were cooped up, isolated, and desired human connections. So, I thought long and hard and decided to stay home with my loved ones during the holidays. There were so many opinions surrounding the holidays and human interactions. People were angry as the numbers began to rise at the hospital again. Our PPE was still depleted and our psyche partially deranged, so we had to pull through it again. I did not think I could do it all over again. My second cry occurred at work. In the bitch box or confession box, a.k.a med room, I cried in fear of the future. I hugged my coworker, squeezed them tightly, and wiped away my tears (they were the only other person besides my partner I hugged throughout the pandemic). I survived as others struggled to retake their last breath. I immersed myself in articles regarding the human need for connections. Instead of stomping my feet and pointing blame, I strived to understand the second surge of COVID-19. Again, it is COVID-19 that took the lives of so many. I did not blame myself. I continued to be that nurse that understood and cared. 

The present-day still lingers with so much unknown in the face of COVID-19. Currently, the Centers for Disease Control released recommendations for Massachusetts, including fully vaccinated people, to wear face masks in public and indoor settings under certain conditions. You may be angry. You may be sad or just plain old fed-up. But underneath it all, there lies fear. Take one person's sense of control, and everything becomes out of control.

Now, do not go thinking I am some Mother Teresa or on some high horse. God knows I am far from that! I was balancing graduate school and the stress of a pandemic, all while balancing my health needs. It was never easy, but I never gave up. It was never easy for everyone. I knew that we were all part of this tragedy together despite it all. Everyone has a story. This is my story.