Health care workers are on the front lines.

Health care workers are on the front lines. Credit: Getty Images/shapecharge

As the coronavirus pandemic spreads across the region, we want to share stories from healthcare workers and other Long Islanders on the frontlines as they battle the virus' spread. We will update this article with more stories as they become available.

Michael Dowling: To health care workers, thank you

By Michael Dowling

For as long as medicine has been around, it’s been known that you health care workers are a special breed — working on the front lines, sometimes during chaotic moments, sometimes dealing with end-of-life situations and sometimes contributing to the most joyful of occasions.

What has transpired over the past several weeks, though, has been extraordinary, a remarkable showing of true grit and selflessness usually credited to emergency workers and our armed forces. You have entered unthinkable situations each day, facing the virus with no known treatment or vaccine with the same rigor and hope as ever before.

You are our heroes.

The coronavirus, or COVID-19, halted life as we know it for most people here in the United States and across the world. But not for you. Not for the tireless clinicians, security workers, revenue cycle and supply chain employees, therapists and many more. It’s because of you that we are able to navigate these uncharted times with confidence, moving toward the hopefully soon end to the unwelcomed outbreak. And it’s because of you that we are able to spend our lives with those who matter most during this troubling time.

Simply put: You’ve got this.

Since the outbreak began in the United States, we’ve heard countless accounts of health care workers stepping up to contribute. Those of you on the front lines have sacrificed your well-being to treat those who have been infected.

Doctors, nurses and physician assistants treating COVID-19 patients, you have removed yourselves from your families, in some cases your young children, to eliminate the risk of exposure — all while enduring long hours in the most stressful circumstances.

Some clinicians nationwide have contemplated surrendering themselves to contracting COVID-19, so they can become immune and eventually be a solution to the shortage of personal protective equipment.

Closer to home in New York — the epicenter of COVID-19 in the United States — Northwell Health and many other health care organizations have witnessed the same courage and toughness we are used to. Our clinicians have banded together, learning on the fly to adjust to the evolving situation. Overnight in late March, more than 1,000 of the state’s recently retired health care workers responded to the crisis and returned to work.

Astonishing commitments like these are the same kinds of efforts we are used to seeing and hearing about in health care. It’s a calling. A way of life. It’s who you are.

Your communities depend on you now more than ever. The COVID-19 outbreak has forced us to become innovative and creative, even if we don’t like it. Working in health care means being fluid and able to adapt to rapidly moving targets. This situation is no different. In fact, the targets have been much quicker and more agile. And as you’ve continued to stomach the worst infectious disease outbreak seen in generations, we are here for you, too, to lend a hand when you need a break.

With the next phase of the coronavirus upon us, we have to remain calm and realistic about our expectations. We have to stay positive and optimistic. We can beat this virus, thanks to your unwavering dedication.

Special people do special things. And I am forever grateful for everything you have done and continue to do.

Michael Dowling is president and chief executive of Northwell Health, New York’s largest health care provider and private employer.

I am a nurse. This is scary.

By Kenya Clinton-Coles

I have been a registered nurse for eight years — and a nurse’s aide for eight years before that — and this COVID-19 pandemic that is sweeping the country is unlike anything I have ever seen, especially on Long Island and in New York City.

It is scary, even for nurses like me and other health care workers on the front lines battling this fast-moving, highly contagious plague where people can go from relatively good health to critical illness or even death in a matter of minutes.

We know we have to put ourselves at risk sometimes to serve our patients, but what is happening at my Long Island hospital and at others was unimaginable just a few short weeks ago. It often brings me to tears.  

There are tens of thousands of COVID-19 cases in the metropolitan area and more than 2,000 deaths. As of Thursday, there were more than 9,500 COVID-19 cases in Nassau County, and more than 7,600 in Suffolk.

We need much more personal protective equipment (PPE) like N95 masks, gowns, gloves, respirators and ventilators to protect ourselves and our patients and to save lives — and not just nurses, but also aides, technicians and housekeeping staff, just to mention a few.

The federal government was extremely slow to act and we are dangerously behind where we should be. Our union, 1199SEIU, is fighting the federal government to step up and protect us and our patients by producing enough PPE.

Shortages of PPE put everyone at risk. My hospital is stretched dangerously thin on protective equipment — and at least two of my co-workers have tested positive for the virus and are in quarantine. We are limited to one N95 mask per week, when normally you would throw it away after a single use. That mask can save lives and slow the spread of this evil disease. 

We are so low on plastic gowns that many of us are forced to use paper gowns or makeshift protection like kitchen aprons — and we have all seen the shocking pictures of health care workers resorting to wearing plastic garbage bags to protect themselves and their patients.

Most of us are working 12-hour shifts, which takes a toll on us and our patients.

This disease moves so rapidly it is frightening to watch.

We had one patient who literally deteriorated right before my eyes within an hour. She seemed fine but suddenly went into a downward spiral. Her oxygen levels were low and she had trouble breathing. She got worse, and we sent her to a sister hospital better equipped to deal with the most critically ill patients. I don’t know what happened to that patient, but I fear the worst. She was someone’s loved one. She was someone’s mother, or grandmother.

I cried after working to help her, and I cry every time I leave the hospital and go home to my two daughters and my two grandchildren for fear of giving them the virus, even though I do not have it. 

My youngest grandson was born nearly three months premature in June; his respiratory issues were so bad he had to stay in the hospital until December. He is home now, but I am terrified that I could bring this disease home to him.

We health care workers pull together to help each other, and the other nurses on my floor always make sure I have a plastic gown to protect myself and my grandson, even if it means one of them has to use a paper gown.

But we are hamstrung by the lack of equipment and the feeling that the government is slow and keeps changing the rules. We all need to get on the same page to win this war against an invisible enemy.

Kenya Clinton-Coles is a registered nurse at  a Long Island hospital.

SUBSCRIBE

Unlimited Digital AccessOnly 25¢for 6 months

ACT NOWSALE ENDS SOON | CANCEL ANYTIME