This virus has really changed my perception of what is “mandatory.” Assignments that were mandatory now fall flat- I suppose I have to spend time doing them, but it is unclear to what end. Meetings that seem mandatory have dissolved. Everything that stressed me out- having a nonprofit board meeting the day before my shelf exam, juggling my extracurricular advocacy activities during my surgery rotation, worrying about being out of touch before entering an OR again for the first time- evaporated. These worries were replaced by new fears which feel less self-centered and more abstract: if my parents get sick, will I be able to take care of them? What kind of medical system will we enter when this is over? When does this all end? Will I see the people I care about by the end of this? Will any young person I know get sick?
To some extent, this has made me think really hard about how much I take for granted in everyday life, and how much of my existence is consumed by selfish and ultimately trivial worries. I will resolve to be more present and generous with my time and love to everyone around me. I will resolve to be more grateful for the experiences I have in the physical company of others. I will resolve to be more gracious towards anyone in the service industry, both because they deserve it as people and because this time is harder on them than most. I will resolve to touch people with tenderness, and to really be grateful for the ability I have to express love in this way, as a healthy person in healthy times (hopefully sooner rather than later).
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Today is day 3? 4? of social isolation at home. It is surreal to live in a world where all humans I see or hear about are talking about one singular thing. We all seem to have our own lenses to apply to this singular Thing. Today I read a social media post from a first-generation college senior who was heartbroken to hear that her graduation ceremony was canceled. For her, this meant an opportunity for her immigrant parents to see the fruits of their labor and her labor. I saw another post from a young person insistent on their spring break plans not being canceled. For this person, there was frustration over what likely seems like hysteria. I've seen a number of posts from "secretly" immunocompromised friends of mine, who solemnly shared the ways they have always moved about this world for fear of an infection as mundane (to the rest of us) as the flu. I saw posts from folks who work in the service industry, and talked on the phone to a friend of mine concerned about making rent for the next month in New York City. The lens that I realize I have been seeing this from is a public health professional and (maybe unfairly, I haven't decided yet) from a medical professional. My posts skew towards information heavy. My thoughts are about systems malfunctioning, about resource allocation, about constellations of symptoms and what they mean. I've become hyperaware of my body and the bodies of my family members, constantly scanning all of us for a sign of this Thing. A grim silver lining of this whole thing is that in a very real sense I feel part of this huge community of medicine outside of school. I feel that my personal and professional identity are coming together more than I expected. It's frustrating to know that despite feeling this way, I know that trainees take up a lot of (emotional, physical) space in the hospital. I hope we can help. I don't know what we can do, and I know that I don't know enough. But I hope we can try.
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