I guess it was just one of those weeks…

You know the type….several weeks into a pandemic, trending far too close to one million Americans infected….economy so devastated that I’d rather bury my head in the proverbial sand, than think about when we will financially rebound in a meaningful way. I estimate I am at least a few weeks beyond the point at which I might have been able to salvage my childrens’ grasp of math and English language arts, and I have nearly given up on my youngest child having a significant interest in learning to read. I guess two out of three literate children may have to suffice. And I am likely a month beyond the point of returning to my pre-pandemic level of expected chaos, semi-normalish self-care, an acceptable Body Mass Index (BMI) and cholesterol level, and some semblance of my own version of sanity. 

From week one of quarantine, I have clung to the notion of an ever-evolving “new normal.” The only thing I can begin to liken this to is the new normal I experienced the year following my son’s type 1 diabetes diagnosis. But even that only affected myself and my three children, not an entire planet! Yes it had significant health-related, physical, emotional, familial, financial, psychological, professional, and social implications. And yes, especially in the first year, it felt like a constantly-moving, elusive target. However, it was on a personal and familial, not global, scale. The COVID19 pandemic, on the other hand, is almost incomprehensible in terms of its scope. 

With a vaccine still likely several months away, and the fact that we are not even safely between projected peaks yet, it is quite easy for many people to start to lose hope, at least transiently. Add in to this dynamic the fact that many people have lost jobs, had their hours reduced, given up on the notion of bonuses or raises, cancelled travel (both professional and recreational), are struggling to afford food, and have missed special events such as birthdays, weddings, proms, and graduations.  And they are the “lucky ones,” as still others have lost loved ones or become ill themselves. Not shockingly, many people are experiencing high levels of anxiety, depression, fear, and isolation, and with seemingly no end in sight. Even as someone who has survived cancer, in addition to other adversity and trauma, I can quite easily say that I have never experienced something remotely approximating the insanity that is COVID. 

Perhaps it is ironic that just prior to COVID’s presumed arrival in the US, a colleague and I had applied for a grant to develop an educational curriculum addressing screening for adversity and resilience and building additional strengths within families. Nothing like a global pandemic to additionally highlight the need for such resilience! So I suppose with my personal past in my heart, and my professional interests in mind, I should dig a bit deeper and try my best to be mindful of those things which potentially foster resilience….even during a week like this…even when the weight of a global pandemic, the hurt of so many loved ones, and so much personal, financial, and professional insecurity weighs on us all. 

Now I realize that many of you are doing your part sheltering in, and as such, you may be just bored enough to indulge me as I drone on endlessly. However, for the time being, I will spare you my epically long diatribes on the importance of nutrition, fitness, REM sleep, mindfulness, relationships, faith, etc. in building resilience. While these topics are clearly important, they may require more bandwidth than I can reasonably expect from you, and less hypocrisy (especially regarding nutrition and REM sleep) than you can reasonably expect from me this week. Instead I will share with you an example of one family who is cultivating resilience in a very impactful and, forgive the pun, contagious capacity.

Last week I received a voicemail late one evening. It was informing me that my face shields would be ready the following morning. Face shields? It took a second for everything to click.  A few weeks back a dear friend tagged me in a Facebook post about a family who was crowdfunding the 3D-printing of protective face shields. With the days blending together, as I tried to balance clinical, in-person work with remote work and homeschool moderating (what I do cannot be referred to as “teaching”), I had nearly forgotten about the post. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, I had a beautiful voicemail from a veritable stranger, alerting me that there would be 100 face shields ready tomorrow. I called her back immediately to make arrangements to come pick them up the next day. As we spoke I found myself pausing for breaths, trying to keep myself composed, as I thanked her for their generosity. 

She thanked me for my service as well, but I still cannot help but feel my verbal gratitude for their contribution was inadequate in terms of honoring what their work has done and continues to do. We have grown quite accustomed to all the infographics showing the logarithmic potential of COVID19 spread. But we do not spend much time considering the potential exponential effects of adequate PPE (personal protective equipment). For instance, a single one of these 3D-printed face shields can protect me as I see numerous patients, as long as I disinfect it appropriately. In this regard they are a bit heartier, so to speak, than masks, though are intended to be used in conjunction with appropriate masks, gloves, and gowns. 

For the sake of  argument, let us say I see twenty patients in one day. If my first patient of the day is shedding COVID, that face shield protects me throughout that first encounter. As such, that mask protects me from spreading COVID to all subsequent patients I see, both on that same day, and for as many subsequent days as I might asymptomatically shed to others, prior to clearing the virus or becoming symptomatic (such that I self-quarantine). If I never develop symptoms, that is at least fourteen days’ worth of patients I can infect, including newborns, children with medical needs, and immunocompromised patients. And the nature of pediatrics generally dictates that all of my patients live with at least one adult, not to mention siblings, grandparents, or others who may live in the home. Thus, that is fourteen days of patients, plus their collective family members (some of whom are essential workers, and all of whom will need to buy groceries at some point), that may be spared by the use of that one face shield. In addition, it is also my own family that is hopefully spared as well, including my three children, one of whom has an autoimmune disorder. In this way, a single 3D-printed face shield has the potential to protect hundreds, if not thousands, of people. 

This is the type of contagion that we need right now. If this type of generosity, selflessness, and resilience can spread in viral fashion, then we might stand a chance at buffering against the collateral damage of COVID19. I hope that the next time we sit in front of our devices, staring at curves with scary slopes and digesting alarming percentages, we can pause to be mindful that COVID is not the only entity spreading in our world!

I cannot thank the Reitman family enough for their donation to our frontline workers, our patients, our community, and our loved ones!

I would also like to give a special shout-out to 8-year-old Stella Reitman for the amazing poem she included in the box of face shields.