NHS Covid 19 response

In the beginning we had no one.  We would call Public Health England, 111, GPs, any medical advice service we could get our hands on frantically trying to find out what was going on and what we could do about.  No one had any information or advice or help they could give us.

We were on our own, making it up as we went along. Trying our best to keep everyone safe and keep people alive whilst not knowing if covid was airborne, only knowing that a huge number of people were dying, we didn’t know that we would eventually become the epicentre of the chaotic government handlings around coronavirus and care homes. 

We armed ourselves in any PPE we could find and visors made and donated by a local school, we tied plastic bags to our feet and around our heads in a bid to protect ourselves, stop the spread and to prevent us from taking it back home to our loved ones. 

We had no one. We were refused test kits and told that if we had two people with symptoms that’s classed as an outbreak and to shut our doors. No help in identifying more cases, it was a waiting game as to who’s temperature would rise or who would cough next. 

Our managers bought us PPE off Amazon out of their own pockets due to shortages, trying to help and prevent the inevitable. We had to count our mask stocks everyday as we had limited supply and weren’t sure how much more we could get. 

We cried together, as we watched the waves wash over us and take our residents. Our residents who we’d known for years, who we used to dance with on a daily basis and we danced with them until the end when they could no longer move as they became too ill, we used to dance in our stupid plastic bag PPE at the end of their beds to try and get some kind of smile or bring some kind of joy, holding back tears as we held their hands, telling them they are safe and not alone as the horrifying reality sets in that covid is taking them quicker then you could have ever expect and there is nothing more you can do to try and save them. Many residents passed away with the look of fear in their eyes, struggling to breath, as they know this is the end, wondering where their families are? And knowing they will never see them again. 

Vibrant units were left eerie and empty.  

People have said to me ‘oh they’re old they’ve lived a life anyway’, I’m amazed by the lack of empathy and compassion because that person is just a statistic or number
or maybe it’s because people can’t face the harsh reality of what has actually happened? End of life care should be dignified, covid is not dignified, it is anything but. 

Healthcare workers only had each other, we picked each other off the floor and carried on because we had no choice. 
We didn’t choose this part of the job, we didn’t choose to see what we did or experience what we have. 
We will remember this forever, there are memories burnt into our brains, some are left with PTSD, depression, anxiety, panic disorder etc as a lasting effect of this trauma. 
Some have left healthcare, some have lost loved ones they accidentally infected and many lost their own lives.  This is our reality, we did not sign up for this. 
I have unconditional respect and adoration for my fellow healthcare workers who are still working tirelessly to better the lives of others.
Healthcare staff deserve better. We have been failed, healthcare workers deserve more then just a Thursday evening clap, we are exhausted. This has felt like a war. 

- Ex ‘front line’ Mental Health Nurse aged 26, 2020-2021