Story #64 - Postpartum Pandemic Stories - Corinne, Saint-Eustache QC (Canada) - Having a Baby During a Pandemic, Working Mother, Being a Physician & Having Compassion
They all said I was alarmist. They told me I was overreacting. But I knew what was coming.
My husband is an extrovert, and he needs to see people to fill his cup. I'm the opposite, so COVID19 makes everything harder for everyone. I'm also an anxious person. I need a stable routine for myself, our one-year-old daughter, and my patients.
Before the pandemic, I had hit a rough patch that led me to reorganize my work-life balance. I started therapy, did yoga. Now everything has been put on hold.
On a day to day basis, I'm torn between my ethical responsibilities as a general practitioner and protecting my family from the virus. It's stressful. And it's scary.
Practically, it hasn't been easy to reorganize our lives around the daily changes at the clinic. I often ask myself, Will I have to stop seeing my patients and start working at the hospital, possibly having to perform medical acts I'm not comfortable with? Will I get sick? Will I contaminate my kid, husband, parents? At the same time, I feel guilty for my colleagues who are already on the front line, working at the ER or in the ICUs, risking their lives as we speak.
Every day I wrestle with the guilt of having to leave my daughter in daycare while I do my job. I'm jealous of the parents who are bored at home, wondering which activities they should do with their kids. I'd kill to stay home with my daughter. It's unfair to say that because it's difficult for them too. But I envy them nevertheless.
I think of my patients and my colleagues all the time. I have found myself having to deal with complicated cases lately. We now need to confirm diagnoses without the usual resources (Xrays, MRI, ultrasound...), and still have to supervise residents. We're always on edge.
The other day, I misread a resident's notes about a high-risk pregnant woman, and I missed her slightly elevated tension. Luckily, another doctor reviewed the chart and caught it. That's why we have more than one person look at the files, but I still made a mistake. It's not something anybody can afford right now.
I couldn't sleep for days.
Patients deserve a doctor who is not overwhelmed. New moms shouldn't have to deal with an exhausted doctor who had to spend hours on the phone before seeing her, because of another patient with three cancers and no one willing to operate her. They both deserve someone who will calmly reassure them. But there are days I just can't. Family doctors are the link between hospitals, specialists, nursing homes, and palliative care.
It's not optimal, but again, nothing is optimal right now.
My daughter is 16 months old and isn't very mobile yet. It's a concern.
We had a part-time nanny who was marvelous, but because of the virus, we had to send her back full-time to daycare. The drop-off logistic is complicated: parents come in one by one and hand their kids to the teachers in the lobby. They disinfect the kids and their personal effects in another room and wash their hands. When I come and get her in the evening, I don't go in. They hand her back to me in the parking lot, and when we get home, we immediately remove our clothes and take a bath. I also purchased new scrubs, uniforms, and shoes that I leave at the clinic.
Our protocol there is super rigorous. We have one office for virtual appointments and another one for in-person exams. We do double triage over the phone (first with a secretary, then a doctor), and if a physician comes in contact with a COVID19 patient, s/he transfers to a clinic or hospital that treats the virus. We ration our equipment by reusing the same mask every five days (because it takes that much time for the virus to die) or until it's wet.
We're expecting the next few weeks to be overwhelming. We're wondering if the clinic will shut down so all doctors can treat COVID-patients or perform screening. But ultimately, we want to avoid back and forth between the doctors who care for the "cold" cases (critical, like cancer or heart attack) and the "warm" cases (COVID19), lessening the risk of cross-contamination.
Life continues, but differently.
I think I'm a good doctor overall. I do more than most on certain things, but we all have to pick our battles. We're human.
I'd say that some of the trickiest cases right now are my pregnant or postpartum patients. A lot of them aren't mines, but I have to care for them because of frequent staff rotations. It's a delicate and vulnerable time in life, and I don't feel I can provide in-depth care. They come in for their newborn's well-visit, but it quickly becomes about their parenting skills or personal physiological symptoms. I find myself having to perform two or three appointments in one because I can't redirect them. All of the usual resources aren't available anymore, so I become a therapist, lactation consultant, nurse, and pediatrician.
Some days, I feel like I'm drowning.
We're all doing the best we can.
Social-distancing was hard at first on my marriage and for my family, but now that we've all gotten used to it, we find solace in the little things: my husband can work from home, so when he's done at 5 pm, he doesn't have to commute for 1.5 hours and miss our daughter's bedtime routine anymore.
We spend more time together because he's not traveling every month for a week like he used to. We're also sharing the mental load more equitably, and I can see his bond with his daughter grow. It's quite beautiful to see them together now; they're laughing all the time.
We cook, we take long walks, have fondue dinners face to face. It's lovely.
The streets are also quiet when I leave in the morning to go to work. I can see the sunrise from the window in my office.
I'm still afraid daily that I'll miss something important or that I won't be able to provide care because I'm exhausted.
So I try to focus on the positive aspects of life right now: my amazing colleagues, my patients' compassion, and my daughter's first steps.