I can finally breathe this morning. We’ve settled PPE plans and team structures, for now. Triage and DNR policies are taking shape. We’ve streamlined communication and COVID testing. So for today, at long last, I’ll dare to pause- to bike, to read, to sit, to think.
What have we missed since the virus invaded and transformed our lives? When did winter end? When did our medical family grow so close?
This is a spring like no other. Francesca is studying Chinese and geometry on line. Baseball, weddings, and graduations are postponed. But the calendar marches on, as it must. The days are growing longer, the skies brighter, the air warmer. The daffodils and forsythia are blooming, and the trees are about to bud.
Within the hospital, the beds continue to fill with patients fighting for their lives. We will toil to save as many as we can and comfort those we can’t. For weeks to come—maybe longer—the days will be grueling, our focus intense, everyone’s work essential. The light that shines will be the light we create ourselves.
Meanwhile, outside the hospital, the seasons are changing. The world is waking up: blossoming, flourishing, springing to life, and beckoning us to return, just as soon as we can.
Thinking of all of you, today and always,