Anne Frank spent 761 days hidden in the secret annex. If you have been to Amsterdam and taken the tour of Anne Frank House, climbed behind the bookcase up the tiny staircase to the secret annex you know. As you are listening to the story on your headset “Anne” is telling you about how her father used to bring her magazines from the time with all the celebrities and what was going on at the time. He brought her glue and let her glue them to the wall. You turn the corner and there is a wall, covered in clear plexi-glass and behind that you can see all the photos and articles glued to the wall. I am not comparing Anne Frank to Covid, please do not misunderstand the context. The context was really to appreciate the length of time she was hidden away to this time in our lives.

I have been careful what I have shared about my hospital experience last month. Careful for many reasons. Firstly I want to respect anyone who has had family in ICU during Covid and has experienced trauma loss. I also want to respect the health care professionals who are so important to us. Not just in this time, but all the time. If you are reading this and are a health care professional, have anyone in your family or circle that is one, I want to give deep gratitude for you.

You don’t know what you don’t know

By the time I arrived at the second hospital I was taken to in less than 48 hours it was past ten pm. This was a Monday night. I had been up since 7am on Sunday morning and had spent the last 20 hours sitting on a chair in the cubicle I was in in the Covid ER of the previous hospital. All I wanted to do was sleep.

Imagine my surprise when the EMT wheeled my gurney into a room, a dark room, where I noticed there was someone else in the bed in the room. I am going to leave out the expletive words I was using at that point, but basically I am NOT sharing a room with anyone, I have COVID. Get me out of here, I want to go home now. I thought I was seriously hearing things when they told me they cohort the patients. I said, “you put more than one person with covid in the same room?” I was mortified.

They wheeled me out and took me to the room next door (which was empty). There were two beds that were not even six feet apart. The nurse said she couldn’t promise that I wouldn’t be sharing a room. I said to her that if someone else comes in here I am leaving. She said I would be alone that night, but she couldn’t promise anything tomorrow. I said, all I want right now is sleep, we will deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. The EMS left and I told her I wanted a sleeping pill and get some sleep. At that point I had been up for over 36 hours. She left the room and closed the door tightly behind her.

When you are in a Covid room, you are locked down. The door is closed all the time. The staff comes in in full PPE, with double masks, some with googles and face shields and head coverings. There is a hazardous material bin in your room by the door and they disrobe with their backs to the door and back out of the room when they are done, they back out of the room, and close the door tightly. Imagine how many times a day this is done. Imagine actually sharing this room with another Covid patient who has a different covid than you do. Everyone has it differently. That is what is happening when the hospitals say they are at the critical stage. Remember in my post last week when I said I moved because I was ill, but not critically ill and then needed my bed.

We all want this to end. We all want to get back to work, friends and family, and life in general. Even those introverts who a happy to be at home, are missing parts of their life that they once had.

Part of healing is being able to tell your story and no longer cry. I am not there yet. Sharing my story is something I choose to do and I hope someone reading this today who has had an experience that they don’t want to talk about, that this helps them.

Stay safe on your own personal journey,