It’s been just over a month since I stepped foot into the overflow intensive care unit at my hospital.
As the number of patients requiring ICU support for Covid-19 begins to slow down, I can now reflect on how drastically things have changed for me during this time.
Before my redeployment, I was a junior doctor two years out of medical school preparing for surgical training come August. As coronavirus took its toll in Italy, hospitals around the UK prepared for what was to come.
At my own hospital, junior doctors were put onto a pandemic rota and a survey was sent round to determine those who had previous critical care experience, which I did.
A few days before I was meant to rotate into another part of the hospital, the medical education director called me and asked if I was okay to redeploy to intensive care. Eager to be part of a crucial team within the hospital and also get the opportunity to up-skill and be involved in the care of critically unwell patients, I said yes immediately.
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It was only once I’d put down the phone, that my mind erupted with thoughts. Would I be safe? What would I be doing? Was I ready?
In the days leading up to my time in the ICU, I looked back on what had led me to this moment and why I chose to become a doctor.
I had always been scientifically inclined but what had drawn me towards medicine was the mix of anatomy, problem solving and people skills. I was inspired by the likes of David Nott, author of War Doctor, a NHS Surgeon who has volunteered in disaster zones. Now I was in a position where I could have insight into a tough environment – and felt ready to take on the challenge.
The first few days in intensive care were a steep learning curve but I was well supported. I had read the research coming out of China about Covid-19 and the intensivists had taken us through some of the key components for treating these patients.
I participated in my first ‘proning’, a technique used to move patients onto their stomach, which has been shown to be effective.
The long shifts in full PPE were initially hot and tiring, but I was grateful that I was well protected. What struck me was the mix of healthcare professionals in the hospital that supported the ITU team to the best of their ability. I worked alongside surgeons, theatre scrub nurses and neurologists.
Outside the hospital, I was in awe of all the generous acts of kindness – free meals for NHS workers, volunteer groups making visors and the scrub hubs creating personalised scrubs for those of us on the frontline.
Working in an environment with Covid positive patients means that there is a risk of bringing it back to my flat, which I share with my friend, Estella.
I have developed a routine of changing into clean scrubs and trainers before I leave the hospital and keeping my work clothes separate. My parents fall into a high risk category and therefore have been in quarantine since the start of lockdown.
It has been tough not knowing when I will be able to visit them but I am reassured knowing that they are safe and I am proud of them for doing their part.
Sadly, as we know, this virus has claimed the lives of many loved ones despite our attempts to intervene. Having difficult conversations with family over the phone can be distressing and the hospital encourage us to attend wellbeing sessions or seek support where needed. Even so, it is very easy to take these thoughts home with me, and I find fitness, cooking and baking key to helping me switch off.
But there are highs as well as lows to working in critical care. The rewarding moments are watching patients whose care you have been actively involved in, being wheeled out of the department.
Like many working on the frontline, there will be instances that will stay with me during these times.
Recently, I was able to pass the phone to a patient whose breathing tube was removed and sedation stopped, as he began his road to recovery.
As I watched him speak to his wife for the first time in weeks, I knew it was a moment that I would remember for the rest of my medical career.
Do you have a story that you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing claie.wilson@metro.co.uk.
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