Monday 6 April 2020

Has It Hit Home Yet?

We're into our third week of lockdown.

The numbers of deaths are now well into the thousands; the number of cases well into the tens of thousands and no doubt, thousands more untested cases across the land. If you weren't taking it seriously before, you better be now.

I truly experienced the reality of it all for the first time today. As a mere administrator at the hospital, my time is often limited to desks and computers on a specific ward, but given the staffing shortage, my services are required in the centralised administration hub this week. This involves visiting a number of wards and areas to update neglected systems, left to gather dust by other sick administrators.

Today was ICU. Intensive Care. I'd been up there a few times in my time with the NHS, but today was quite simply eerie. Intensive care at my hospital has 8 beds, increased to 12 because of this crisis, in a circular pattern with the nurses station in the middle. I was only there for 30 minutes, but I felt trapped in a circle of coronavirus, the sounds of gravely ill patients struggling to breathe surrounding me. It was quite simply awful.

This evening we have learnt our Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, has been admitted to intensive care with this virus. All of a sudden, it's becoming apparent how serious this is. After a weekend of people flouting the rules to sunbathe in the spring sunshine, a feeling of frustration has turned to a feeling of anger. How can people be so careless?

Today, I literally listened to the sounds of people's lungs failing. It's a sound I'm struggling to get out of my head.

I'm no fan of Boris Johnson, but knowing he's in a similar condition to those I saw today puts a bit of perspective into it. Hearing about what Covid-19 physically does to your body means I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

The worst cases of this coronavirus can cause respiratory failure; what is called a Pneumonitis. The inflammation of the lungs can cause membranes to break apart, allowing water to leak into the lungs.

It feels like drowning. Really, really slowly.

Has it hit home yet?

No comments: