Watching this past year unfold has broken my heart. As a college student who worked on a COVID-19 floor during the height of the pandemic, I witnessed both COVID-19 and the reactions of the people around me firsthand. The way in which these two simultaneous experiences contrasted was incredibly frustrating.
Through both social media and in-person encounters, I was exposed to different reactions from the general public. Before my first COVID-19 shift, the internet was flooded with media showing nationwide protests claiming masks do not work. Obviously, masks work. I definitely would have gotten COVID-19 from working so close to positive patients if masks did not protect people. Spreading this false information is dangerous and unethical as it puts the people who believe it at risk during a pandemic where the hospitals are already overwhelmed.
Another encounter occurred when I was wearing my scrubs and getting snacks before a shift. That week had been particularly upsetting because many patients were taking a turn for the worse. A man started to yell at me, “COVID isn’t real!” I do not understand how he could make such a bold claim. What kind of patients did he think we were treating on COVID-19 floors? People who claim false information, which only contributes to the worsening situation, are alarming and illogical.
As a college student, I am also a part of a smaller community. This part of society is often blamed for being the most careless in this pandemic. The return of students to campuses raised great concerns, and these concerns were valid. While driving home from a long shift at the hospital, I passed a huge group of girls walking towards the field that was holding one of the sorority recruitment events. None of them were wearing masks.
I asked myself a question I know many healthcare workers have asked themselves at least once in the past year: “How much can I give before this ends?”
With people, by the masses, not taking any precautions to limit the spread, I was also finding myself wondering if this will ever end. I kept trying to stay strong by reminding myself that “this too shall pass,” but it was beginning to feel like a lie.
Another night that same week, one of the patients on my floor was losing the fight to COVID-19. I went on break to decompress, only to see countless Snapchat stories of my peers at packed house parties. The stark difference in my night versus theirs was staggering. My brain could not process the astonishing display of selfishness. A person was dying, and they were partying. These events left me reeling, and it did not stop here.
Some of my family and friends also had reactions that were difficult to witness. I was called “ridiculous” for wanting the people around me to be safe during this pandemic. I had watched so many other people’s families and friends suffer with COVID-19 that I did not want to come home to see mine suffer too. I do not want more people to suffer in this pandemic, and I do not understand how that makes me “ridiculous."
On top of this, many people gave me a hard time for “taking COVID so seriously.” I have seen firsthand how horrible this disease can be, and there is no way to make someone who has never experienced it fully understand what it is like. Experiences such as comforting someone who was crying because they felt like their chest was caving in because it hurt so bad or watching someone lose the fight completely alone because visitors are not allowed strip you of any ability to not take COVID-19 seriously. COVID-19 should be taken seriously because COVID-19 is, in fact, serious.
As a healthcare worker who worked directly with COVID-19, I just want to say: Get it together because this needs to end. I am not asking for drastic measures of locking yourself away in your house. It’s just a simple request of not putting yourself in a situation where you come into contact with hundreds of people in one night.
This is temporary, and we have drawn it out long enough. How many people have to die before everyone takes COVID-19 seriously? We have surpassed two million deaths. Is that not enough? I think I can speak for all healthcare workers when I say that we are tired. So next time you get to go out, remember that over two million people will never get that chance again.