Covid-19. The name strikes a special chord with each one of us. It has been a scientific enigma, a medical crisis, an economic meltdown, and now, a way of life. I now see the past year as a series of stages (not unlike the stages of grief). This is my story of Covid-19, having treated and been treated.
Phase one: Apprehension. Though this pandemic has been one to remember, this is not our first. We’ve tackled many, from the plague in the 1350s to SARS in 2003. One would hope that we would be better prepared this time, however, it wasn’t the case. It is our tendency to be fearful of the new, the unknown, and Covid-19 was no exception.
After the WHO declared the pandemic on 11 March 2020, governments across the globe enforced complete lockdowns. Scientists and epidemiologists got to work on the different aspects of the disease, from the pathophysiology and epidemiology, to treatments and vaccines. Families in lockdown did their bit by watching the movie Contagion on Netflix. The healthcare workers, however, braced for the worst; A disaster of magnitudes we had not seen, nor trained for.
The pandemic was a wrench in the perfect clockwork of our practice. However, this was an exciting time. A time to make a real difference. A time to finally be proud of this profession that has become dangerously aristocratic in its development.
Phase two: Preparation and action. The work began, the trenches were dug, and the soldiers were enlisted. Make-shift hospitals were built from scratch. Systems for patient testing, contact tracing, and the Covid-19 isolation pathway were defined. Healthcare workers irrespective of their current medical background were recruited and trained. We trained in infection control practices, usage of personal protective equipment, and disease management. The art and science of medicine was now replaced with military precision. Egos and hierarchy aside, everyone pitched in at their capacity. It now made sense, similar to the camaraderie of soldiers.
We as healthcare providers, grew alongside with this disease. We learned to identify the different patterns of the disease and how to manage it. Literature on the disease expanded manifold each day. Our ‘eminence-based’ use of seemingly random medication were replaced by scientifically sound, evidence-based medicine. The system was getting better every day. Not only did we have to manage Covid-19 patients, but also other patients with chronic illnesses. Soon, we were able to expand our practice to the digital platform.
Words are powerful. While information helped tailor our practice, mis-information was rampantly spreading through the social media. The unknown that was feared, was now slowly being stigmatised. Stigma has changed the face of diseases like HIV/AIDS in the past. Stigma segregates, penalises and prevents responsible dialogue. It had to be nipped in the bud. The only way to do so was through public education and awareness. We engaged with the public through the radio, news, and social media. Campaigns were launched to bust myths and tackle misinformation. We tried to educate the public on the prevention and transmission of the disease, and the appropriate ways to show support for the affected. On some level, we were definitely successful.
Phase three: Fatigue. Well, Phase two definitely looked good, right? But how long can someone sustain this? (Hats off to the military, I must say). The pandemic took its toll too, chipping off our capacity—mentally, and physically. I think it was expected. With bruised noses, working in a highly contaminated area, with a constant worry about exposing loved ones at home—I cannot think of anyone who would adapt well to this. By the end of the year, we were burned out.
Phase four: Realisation. It was only when I had to fight my own battle with Covid-19 at home that I realised some things are easier said than done. My whole family tested positive, which made it just a little easier to monitor each other. We washed our hands off the virus, and our minds off the anxiety. We kept each other in good spirits while taking the necessary medication and a healthy diet, all in complete isolation. I can only imagine the plight of people who have to isolate themselves alone for the entire duration.
I have seen both sides of the coin. I have been a Covid-19 warrior and a patient. I discovered that a positive frame of mind is as essential as the medication and a healthy diet for speedy recovery. The anxiety cannot be avoided, but a positive attitude goes a long way.
The writer is Associate Professor of Medicine, AIIMS.
