Here in Phoenix we are watching what is happening on the east coast with grave concern. My instinct is to run to New York and volunteer to help. But of course I am needed in Phoenix because we see the storm coming our way and are still getting ready. Will it be a ripple, or a tsunami? I don’t know, but we are actively taking this moment of calm to prepare for the worst.
We are currently ready to open additional ICU beds as well as additional in-patient beds. We will have even more extra ICU beds by next week. Setting up an ICU isn’t easy. There are all sorts of special equipment that go into the rooms, and logistical concerns that I leave to the other experts. I’m a nurse and my work has been figuring out how to help the nurses pulled from non-ICU jobs brush up on skills they haven’t used in years. We found nurses who have worked in the ICU in the last five years, and then my nurse educators identified the core skills and held simulations so the nurses could review. They worked with ICU nurses and cared for ICU patients and I’m confident they are ready, especially since we will pair them with experienced ICU nurses. We’ve done the same thing with the nurses re-deployed to be general medical surgical nurses, twenty last week and thirty more starting tomorrow.
The staff are nervous. My mother said “I’d be nervous too if you said to me ‘here, take care of these three toddlers.'” Of course she cared for toddlers in the past, but to do it again would be a real challenge. The training we set up is as if a toddler expert taught her toddler basics and let her practice, and then she helped someone who takes care of toddlers every day. Then when she got her own toddlers an experienced person was right in the next room available to help, the educator regularly came to visit, and she had a panic button for if things went really wrong. Is it perfect? No. I just can’t think of any other way to get ready to take a big influx of patients with only a few week’s notice.
A big part of my job has been walking around reassuring staff. I’m a leader; they need to know I’m there with them. I listen to them, answer questions, and let them know that I have some of the same concerns for my own safety and family. I’m honest when I talk about masks and why they are rationed, not because we don’t have any, but so we continue to have enough as this crisis drags on. I let them know that the facility has a team working on the plan and everyone is doing their best to get us ready. I remind them of all the skills they do have and let them know I am confident they will rise to the challenge. I thank them for what they are doing. They are doing the work, I’m just helping guide all that effort to where it is needed.
I’m really not working harder than I usually do, but I’m very tired by the end of the day. Charlie says it is stress and worrying about the patients and the staff. It’s also that I’m not very patient. If we are going to have a disaster I would like to jump in, work on it and get to the other side. I’m grateful that we have time to prepare, but the anxiety of not knowing what we are preparing for is stressful. I remind myself that I have a really good life. I still have some weekends off for bike riding and hanging out with Charlie. I sleep in my own bed every night. I come home every evening and, after a shower for infection control, I have a nice dinner with my family. It really helps that home life is so slow. We regularly sit outside and talk. I stretch and do a little yoga. I watch a little TV. I don’t seem to have the brain power to read or paint or write. It is all spent on work with nothing left over. I go to bed at 9:30, get up at 4:45, take a long walk and start all over, in my scrubs, with make-up on and a smile for my staff.
I hope that you are all well and that you stay well. Be safe, be healthy and know we will be here if you need us.
A great plan, you are blessed with. Intuition of what is coming, wait & be prepared.