Seaton has enforced that rule throughout the pandemic, afraid that if she lets herself weep she would never stop. She says she could cry endlessly for the patients who die without their loved ones in the visitor-restricted ward, the family members who can’t hold their hands and the medical staff who tried to save them.
Instead, she helps place the patient in a body bag and calls the Cook County medical examiner. The county morgue is often too busy to immediately retrieve the deceased, Seaton says, so she sends the body to a holding area several floors below and prays someone comes soon.
If Seaton sees someone crying, she tells them to “go fix your allergies.” The phrase has become caring slang in the ICU for staff members who need to step away for a few minutes to collect themselves.
“I don’t cry,” Seaton said. “But I find myself fixing my allergies more and more.”
” title=”There’s no crying in the intensive care unit.
Seaton has enforced that rule throughout the pandemic, afraid that if she lets herself weep she would never stop. She says she could cry endlessly for the patients who die without their loved ones in the visitor-restricted ward, the family members who can’t hold their hands and the medical staff who tried to save them.
Instead, she helps place the patient in a body bag and calls the Cook County medical examiner. The county morgue is often too busy to immediately retrieve the deceased, Seaton says, so she sends the body to a holding area several floors below and prays someone comes soon.
If Seaton sees someone crying, she tells them to “go fix your allergies.” The phrase has become caring slang in the ICU for staff members who need to step away for a few minutes to collect themselves.
“I don’t cry,” Seaton said. “But I find myself fixing my allergies more and more.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/TQMS75EURZBADFJ756S267WMG4.jpg”>
Seaton has enforced that rule throughout the pandemic, afraid that if she lets herself weep she would never stop. She says she could cry endlessly for the patients who die without their loved ones in the visitor-restricted ward, the family members who can’t hold their hands and the medical staff who tried to save them.
Instead, she helps place the patient in a body bag and calls the Cook County medical examiner. The county morgue is often too busy to immediately retrieve the deceased, Seaton says, so she sends the body to a holding area several floors below and prays someone comes soon.
If Seaton sees someone crying, she tells them to “go fix your allergies.” The phrase has become caring slang in the ICU for staff members who need to step away for a few minutes to collect themselves.
“I don’t cry,” Seaton said. “But I find myself fixing my allergies more and more.”
A third patient — a man who been admitted with milder symptoms just three days earlier — needed to begin dialysis treatment because his kidneys had stopped functioning.
Life can change in an instant at the hospital, and it wears on the staff.
“People don’t understand how sick the patients are and how rapidly they can decline,” Liverpool said. “They don’t see what we see every day. It has always been a difficult job, but our burden is now tenfold.”
” title=”Every bed in Loretto’s 15-bed COVID ward — a mixture of ICU and less serious cases — was filled when Liverpool arrived at work on a recent weekday morning. Within 45 minutes, she placed one patient on a ventilator and anticipated a second would need to be intubated soon.
A third patient — a man who been admitted with milder symptoms just three days earlier — needed to begin dialysis treatment because his kidneys had stopped functioning.
Life can change in an instant at the hospital, and it wears on the staff.
“People don’t understand how sick the patients are and how rapidly they can decline,” Liverpool said. “They don’t see what we see every day. It has always been a difficult job, but our burden is now tenfold.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/XHGLTIWRQ5A7BPDLSJITXH33X4.jpg”>
A third patient — a man who been admitted with milder symptoms just three days earlier — needed to begin dialysis treatment because his kidneys had stopped functioning.
Life can change in an instant at the hospital, and it wears on the staff.
“People don’t understand how sick the patients are and how rapidly they can decline,” Liverpool said. “They don’t see what we see every day. It has always been a difficult job, but our burden is now tenfold.”
“We don’t know a lot about this virus,” she said. “We’re still in the process of learning about it and that’s what makes it so difficult.”
” title=”With more than 50 years in the health care field, Bailey has never faced an illness as mysterious and aggressive as the coronavirus. The many unknowns make her job as a respiratory therapist — the professionals who help initiate and manage life support systems for COVID-19 patients on ventilators — even more challenging than usual.
“We don’t know a lot about this virus,” she said. “We’re still in the process of learning about it and that’s what makes it so difficult.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/XZ3GM2MTNJF57M5N5JN4AELPSY.jpg”>
“We don’t know a lot about this virus,” she said. “We’re still in the process of learning about it and that’s what makes it so difficult.”
“The delivery guys thought I was crazy, but I didn’t care,” she said. “I’ve never been as happy as I was in that moment.”
” title=”With limited medical supplies available across the country, Garner has made countless phone calls to manufacturers in hopes of securing needed equipment. That relentlessness led to her hitting the pandemic jackpot a few weeks ago, when she scored thousands of face shields and goggles for hospital employees. When the palettes filled with protective eyewear arrived, she released a joyful scream that echoed through the warehouse.
“The delivery guys thought I was crazy, but I didn’t care,” she said. “I’ve never been as happy as I was in that moment.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/MAGKR7OWYRCYLHVI26YDXAAU3E.jpg”>
“The delivery guys thought I was crazy, but I didn’t care,” she said. “I’ve never been as happy as I was in that moment.”
“It takes a strong heart to do our jobs under these circumstances,” he said. “I thank God every morning that I wake up healthy and have a chance to help.”
” title=”Gomez, who begins treating potential COVID-19 patients as soon as they are admitted, says he finds himself praying more than he did before the pandemic. He prays for his patients, for the strength to get through each shift and the ability to decontaminate thoroughly enough to keep the virus out of his home and away from his partner.
“It takes a strong heart to do our jobs under these circumstances,” he said. “I thank God every morning that I wake up healthy and have a chance to help.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/HF7NSGTSE5AHJO7M7S4RFUNYFY.jpg”>
“It takes a strong heart to do our jobs under these circumstances,” he said. “I thank God every morning that I wake up healthy and have a chance to help.”
“You’re always watching your co-worker to make sure they’re OK and see if they need something,” Rhodes-Wright said. “Regardless of what’s happening, you have to be ready to jump in there and help them even though you’re risking yourself.”
” title=”As they work to stabilize patients, emergency department nurses also keep a close eye on each other during their 12-hour shifts.
“You’re always watching your co-worker to make sure they’re OK and see if they need something,” Rhodes-Wright said. “Regardless of what’s happening, you have to be ready to jump in there and help them even though you’re risking yourself.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/NBIPYSSPRVFN5NDUKPOEYLFGNA.jpg”>
“You’re always watching your co-worker to make sure they’re OK and see if they need something,” Rhodes-Wright said. “Regardless of what’s happening, you have to be ready to jump in there and help them even though you’re risking yourself.”
The long waits have led to occasional shouting matches and complaints, some of them directed at Smith. The security officer reminds himself to be patient and show empathy because he believes people are simply acting out of fear.
“I listen to their concerns and try to explain things gently because I know times are tough and people are really frightened. I smile at them and I know they can see I’m doing that even though I’m wearing my mask,” Smith said. “Not only am I exhausted physically, I’m exhausted mentally and emotionally. But I couldn’t see myself anywhere else right now. I believe I was called to serve this community.”
” title=”Smith is accustomed to keeping order, but the outbreak has posed a challenge unlike any other. Tensions are high and patience is short in Austin as residents worry about their health, their jobs and their futures, he said. Knowing that African Americans in lower-income neighborhoods are dying from the virus at a disproportionate rate than other parts of the city, West Side residents are waiting hours in line to be tested in the hospital parking lot.
The long waits have led to occasional shouting matches and complaints, some of them directed at Smith. The security officer reminds himself to be patient and show empathy because he believes people are simply acting out of fear.
“I listen to their concerns and try to explain things gently because I know times are tough and people are really frightened. I smile at them and I know they can see I’m doing that even though I’m wearing my mask,” Smith said. “Not only am I exhausted physically, I’m exhausted mentally and emotionally. But I couldn’t see myself anywhere else right now. I believe I was called to serve this community.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/PVTZRQXIUVFH7EXU6MAOJHC6F4.jpg”>
The long waits have led to occasional shouting matches and complaints, some of them directed at Smith. The security officer reminds himself to be patient and show empathy because he believes people are simply acting out of fear.
“I listen to their concerns and try to explain things gently because I know times are tough and people are really frightened. I smile at them and I know they can see I’m doing that even though I’m wearing my mask,” Smith said. “Not only am I exhausted physically, I’m exhausted mentally and emotionally. But I couldn’t see myself anywhere else right now. I believe I was called to serve this community.”
But she surprised herself.
“This experience has made me a stronger person,” she said. “Even though I’m scared when I walk in every day, I’ve found a way to turn it off and pretend like I’m a superhero who can deal with anything. I can’t be sad around my patients. They need me to be strong for them and I am.”
” title=”The coronavirus hit Chicago shortly after Hull began working at the hospital. At first, she considered quitting her job in the intensive care unit. She didn’t think she could bear the heartbreak of losing patients, the constant threat to her personal health or the immense pressure medical staff members feel.
But she surprised herself.
“This experience has made me a stronger person,” she said. “Even though I’m scared when I walk in every day, I’ve found a way to turn it off and pretend like I’m a superhero who can deal with anything. I can’t be sad around my patients. They need me to be strong for them and I am.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/IMSR3CMTYBC6ZLR4LFTPHADWXI.jpg”>
But she surprised herself.
“This experience has made me a stronger person,” she said. “Even though I’m scared when I walk in every day, I’ve found a way to turn it off and pretend like I’m a superhero who can deal with anything. I can’t be sad around my patients. They need me to be strong for them and I am.”
“She’s always asking me if I have my mask on and reminding me to wash my hands,” said Pearson, who was wearing a surgical mask, rubber gloves and hairnet per hospital protocol. “I know she’s very nervous about my job here, so I just tell her everything is fine and that I’m safe.”
” title=”A member of the housekeeping crew tapped to scrub and disinfect the 177-bed hospital, Pearson admits he is fearful of contracting the virus at work. But he’s nowhere near as frightened as his grandmother, who texts him repeatedly throughout his shift.
“She’s always asking me if I have my mask on and reminding me to wash my hands,” said Pearson, who was wearing a surgical mask, rubber gloves and hairnet per hospital protocol. “I know she’s very nervous about my job here, so I just tell her everything is fine and that I’m safe.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/KIH7IXZK5JDN7HHWXS7U3YBNXA.jpg”>
“She’s always asking me if I have my mask on and reminding me to wash my hands,” said Pearson, who was wearing a surgical mask, rubber gloves and hairnet per hospital protocol. “I know she’s very nervous about my job here, so I just tell her everything is fine and that I’m safe.”
“The hardest part is just the unknown,” she said. “We come in and we’re anxious. We’re risking ourselves, and people are so sick. It’s devastating to see that every day.”
” title=”Each morning after finishing her night shift, Neu leaves the hospital carrying her face shield and N95 mask in a brown paper grocery bag with her name scrawled on it. She spends a lot of time at work trying to reassure and comfort patients, all while pushing aside her own uncertainties.
“The hardest part is just the unknown,” she said. “We come in and we’re anxious. We’re risking ourselves, and people are so sick. It’s devastating to see that every day.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/UF6F6O5N4VEBBAJH7EM7FEAN54.jpg”>
“The hardest part is just the unknown,” she said. “We come in and we’re anxious. We’re risking ourselves, and people are so sick. It’s devastating to see that every day.”
It’s not without personal risk, but Keith says he refuses to waste time worrying about it when so many patients and co-workers are depending on him. Instead, he smiles and tells jokes to keep the mood as light as possible amid exceedingly heavy times.
“I try not to let it get to me,” he said. “Every morning, I try to get myself motivated. I tell myself it’s going to be a better day. I tell myself that we’re all going to get through it.”
” title=”Tasked with scouring rooms after COVID-19 patients leave, Keith scrubs every surface and crevice he can find. Even the curtains get a deep clean to eliminate the slightest possible trace of the virus.
It’s not without personal risk, but Keith says he refuses to waste time worrying about it when so many patients and co-workers are depending on him. Instead, he smiles and tells jokes to keep the mood as light as possible amid exceedingly heavy times.
“I try not to let it get to me,” he said. “Every morning, I try to get myself motivated. I tell myself it’s going to be a better day. I tell myself that we’re all going to get through it.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/ZEL56BNTABFRHDMPOKY3NRYJYM.jpg”>
It’s not without personal risk, but Keith says he refuses to waste time worrying about it when so many patients and co-workers are depending on him. Instead, he smiles and tells jokes to keep the mood as light as possible amid exceedingly heavy times.
“I try not to let it get to me,” he said. “Every morning, I try to get myself motivated. I tell myself it’s going to be a better day. I tell myself that we’re all going to get through it.”
The decision has required great sacrifice from her family, as she maintains a social distance from her partner and two young children when she’s at home. She sleeps in the guest bedroom and wears a surgical mask inside the house so she doesn’t infect the people she loves most.
“I don’t regret it,” she says of staying in the ICU. “I have the training for this job and it’s where I can be the most help. With everything going on, this is where I should be.”
” title=”When the outbreak began, Gonzalez put off plans to transfer to the labor and delivery unit so she could stay and help colleagues in the intensive care unit.
The decision has required great sacrifice from her family, as she maintains a social distance from her partner and two young children when she’s at home. She sleeps in the guest bedroom and wears a surgical mask inside the house so she doesn’t infect the people she loves most.
“I don’t regret it,” she says of staying in the ICU. “I have the training for this job and it’s where I can be the most help. With everything going on, this is where I should be.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/TI3JEDWHVZFMTIOLNGQ2IYDMBU.jpg”>
The decision has required great sacrifice from her family, as she maintains a social distance from her partner and two young children when she’s at home. She sleeps in the guest bedroom and wears a surgical mask inside the house so she doesn’t infect the people she loves most.
“I don’t regret it,” she says of staying in the ICU. “I have the training for this job and it’s where I can be the most help. With everything going on, this is where I should be.”
“I sacrifice my health every day because I know the patients need me,” Love said. “My job lets them know that someone loves them and wants to help them get better.”
” title=”There are many mornings when Love questions her commitment to her job and whether it’s worth the risk. But then she thinks about the patients, the ones who are well enough to eat and who rely upon her to cook three meals for them each day. Her oven-baked chicken is popular, though she’ll cook made-to-order grilled cheese sandwiches and hamburgers for anyone who asks.
“I sacrifice my health every day because I know the patients need me,” Love said. “My job lets them know that someone loves them and wants to help them get better.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/5AQPAUGDBREU7IXIE7L7LZR5XI.jpg”>
“I sacrifice my health every day because I know the patients need me,” Love said. “My job lets them know that someone loves them and wants to help them get better.”
“I try to comfort them, even if it means I’m in that PPE for five more minutes than I need to be,” she says. “The hard part is having to walk out that door. You can see the fear in their eyes. Neither of us know if they’ll be breathing the next time I see them. It takes a toll.”
” title=”With visitors banned, Amos does her best to serve as a surrogate family member. A certified nurse’s assistant, she takes a little extra time to talk with patients or hold their hands when she’s in a room.
“I try to comfort them, even if it means I’m in that PPE for five more minutes than I need to be,” she says. “The hard part is having to walk out that door. You can see the fear in their eyes. Neither of us know if they’ll be breathing the next time I see them. It takes a toll.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/QGQU3ZRZVFEIDKYIDUCGSP3DYE.jpg”>
“I try to comfort them, even if it means I’m in that PPE for five more minutes than I need to be,” she says. “The hard part is having to walk out that door. You can see the fear in their eyes. Neither of us know if they’ll be breathing the next time I see them. It takes a toll.”
“We have made it safer for the patients and the staff,” Smith said. “It’s very inspiring to have a job where you know you’re making a difference.”
” title=”Smith and his crew played an integral role preparing the hospital’s 15-bed COVID-19 ward by installing negative pressure ventilation systems and building plastic anterooms where medical teams can remove personal protective equipment before stepping back onto the ICU floor. The work has made it more difficult for the virus to spread throughout the hospital, unquestionably validating the long hours required for the projects.
“We have made it safer for the patients and the staff,” Smith said. “It’s very inspiring to have a job where you know you’re making a difference.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/23B743UWJNAVPMD5XNBD3G7LTM.jpg”>
“We have made it safer for the patients and the staff,” Smith said. “It’s very inspiring to have a job where you know you’re making a difference.”
“The scary part is you don’t know what you’re going to get when you go into a patient’s room,” he said. “You don’t know if the patient is COVID-positive or COVID-negative. We are scared. But we have to do our best, do our job and take care the patient.”
” title=”With five intubations in eight hours on a recent weekday night, Andres, who works primarily in the hospital’s emergency room, was physically and emotionally drained by the time he left the hospital about 7 a.m.
“The scary part is you don’t know what you’re going to get when you go into a patient’s room,” he said. “You don’t know if the patient is COVID-positive or COVID-negative. We are scared. But we have to do our best, do our job and take care the patient.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/76FB4UKNVJGPRHFRE7URU4OSUA.jpg”>
“The scary part is you don’t know what you’re going to get when you go into a patient’s room,” he said. “You don’t know if the patient is COVID-positive or COVID-negative. We are scared. But we have to do our best, do our job and take care the patient.”
She goes into the rooms fully covered with personal protective equipment, as if she’s responding to a hazmat disaster. The job requires her to put her shielded face within inches of patients, even as they cough up secretions.
“People notice us more now because of the vents,” she said. “But we have always been on the front lines.”
” title=”With 800 to 1,000 COVID-19 patients on ventilators across Illinois on a given day, respiratory therapists have become the unsung heroes of the pandemic. Steele helped with three intubations in a single hour on a recent night, then spent the rest of her shift checking her patients on ventilators to ensure they were breathing properly and that tubes were positioned correctly.
She goes into the rooms fully covered with personal protective equipment, as if she’s responding to a hazmat disaster. The job requires her to put her shielded face within inches of patients, even as they cough up secretions.
“People notice us more now because of the vents,” she said. “But we have always been on the front lines.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/7A6RYKSAARCARGVLUUBKZLWPIQ.jpg”>
She goes into the rooms fully covered with personal protective equipment, as if she’s responding to a hazmat disaster. The job requires her to put her shielded face within inches of patients, even as they cough up secretions.
“People notice us more now because of the vents,” she said. “But we have always been on the front lines.”
“The hospital has been here for 90 years,” Ahmed said. “It has seen great financial times and some really bad ones, but the community has always needed us. The hospital has to be here … and as long as we get the proper support from the government and the insurance companies, we will survive.”
” title=”With his hospital already 39% over budget amid the coronavirus, Ahmed has spent many sleepless nights worrying about whether the community hospital will be fully reimbursed for its work. He said Loretto is using more medicine, more supplies and more personnel than usual to fight the virus, which has hit the Austin neighborhood far harder than wealthier areas of the city.
“The hospital has been here for 90 years,” Ahmed said. “It has seen great financial times and some really bad ones, but the community has always needed us. The hospital has to be here … and as long as we get the proper support from the government and the insurance companies, we will survive.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/AFDPUZBXO5HD3P3OMWZLSCF7KE.jpg”>
“The hospital has been here for 90 years,” Ahmed said. “It has seen great financial times and some really bad ones, but the community has always needed us. The hospital has to be here … and as long as we get the proper support from the government and the insurance companies, we will survive.”
And the longer a patient relies on a breathing machine, the more likely they are to die. Rolek knows this, and it devastates her.
“It can be depressing,” Rolek said. “Normally you see improvement. When patients are on a ventilator, we usually wean them off and then they go home. Normally, we have good outcomes. But with this? No.”
” title=”Once a COVID-19 patient is placed on a ventilator, they likely will remain on the life-sustaining machine for 10 to 15 days. That’s about two to three times longer than the typical hospital patient.
And the longer a patient relies on a breathing machine, the more likely they are to die. Rolek knows this, and it devastates her.
“It can be depressing,” Rolek said. “Normally you see improvement. When patients are on a ventilator, we usually wean them off and then they go home. Normally, we have good outcomes. But with this? No.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/U5XNOVFEOBHPBKVS7TNM3JV6QY.jpg”>
And the longer a patient relies on a breathing machine, the more likely they are to die. Rolek knows this, and it devastates her.
“It can be depressing,” Rolek said. “Normally you see improvement. When patients are on a ventilator, we usually wean them off and then they go home. Normally, we have good outcomes. But with this? No.”
“If I can play a small part of saving people’s lives, then that’s what I want to do,” he said. “This is a good thing.”
” title=”Ford took the job as an emergency department clerk at the beginning of the pandemic, a move which caused his friends and family to question his sanity. They saw only the risk of being an infected patient’s first point of contact when entering the hospital. Ford saw an opportunity.
“If I can play a small part of saving people’s lives, then that’s what I want to do,” he said. “This is a good thing.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/DQ56B5OSTJFMJD27E2F43BCFE4.jpg”>
“If I can play a small part of saving people’s lives, then that’s what I want to do,” he said. “This is a good thing.”
After she finished a shift on a recent weekday, she grabbed a sandwich and bag of chips from the break room. It was the first meal she had all day.
“I’m exhausted,” Robertson said. “But I love it because I love helping people.”
” title=”Under normal circumstances, Robertson manages the hospital’s outpatient clinic and immediate care center in Oak Park. Last week, she accepted a new responsibility when Loretto began offering free COVID-19 testing in its parking lot. She now spends eight hours on her feet, sometimes in driving rain or biting winds, helping patients fill out paperwork before sending them to get a nasal swab.
After she finished a shift on a recent weekday, she grabbed a sandwich and bag of chips from the break room. It was the first meal she had all day.
“I’m exhausted,” Robertson said. “But I love it because I love helping people.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/G7Z5OHHOBRF67I445VD3O6OGRQ.jpg”>
After she finished a shift on a recent weekday, she grabbed a sandwich and bag of chips from the break room. It was the first meal she had all day.
“I’m exhausted,” Robertson said. “But I love it because I love helping people.”
“There is a lot of Zoom and a lot of Houseparty, but it’s just not the same,” he said. “Even harder than being scared about coming to work every day is not being able to be with them.”
” title=”The shifts are long and the risks significant, but nothing has been more difficult for Hooks than the decision to isolate himself from his two school-age daughters. The girls are living with their mother during the pandemic to protect their health, though Hooks joins them for socially distant activities such as bike riding and street hockey. But there are no meals shared, no watching movies together on the couch.
“There is a lot of Zoom and a lot of Houseparty, but it’s just not the same,” he said. “Even harder than being scared about coming to work every day is not being able to be with them.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/MRDWPSKEPRAIZCQGI2KBISTVVU.jpg”>
“There is a lot of Zoom and a lot of Houseparty, but it’s just not the same,” he said. “Even harder than being scared about coming to work every day is not being able to be with them.”
But he says the science is clear: Without containment, there can be no infection control.
“Stay home, so we can eventually go home too,” he said. “I am not saying this to be political. My team cannot do this forever.”
” title=”With his 38-bed intensive care unit near capacity, Zakieh sees the coronavirus as a yet-to-be-defeated enemy. He knows people are anxious for the country to reopen and he, too, looks forward to normalcy’s return.
But he says the science is clear: Without containment, there can be no infection control.
“Stay home, so we can eventually go home too,” he said. “I am not saying this to be political. My team cannot do this forever.”
” data-src=”/wp-content/uploads/migration/2020/05/01/JSGJYHBRHNDRFHQDZGDQWBC5JQ.jpg”>
But he says the science is clear: Without containment, there can be no infection control.
“Stay home, so we can eventually go home too,” he said. “I am not saying this to be political. My team cannot do this forever.”
