CHENNAI: It had been almost a month since the coronavirus made its way into Tamil Nadu. Since the mid-week of April, the state began recording cases in double digits and we, as first responders, were preparing ourselves, or at least trying, to address any crisis that may come our way. But nothing could have prepared us for this. As we stepped into the first week of May, along with a dozenodd nurses, I was busy keeping track of the patients who’d come to avail of appointment-based outpatient services. Our duties were not just to check their vitals but to also maintain a neighbourhood specific register.
If any patient was from a containment zone, they had to be sent for a swab test and we had to monitor their symptoms, and follow-up on the results. This was our routine day in and out. Until then, our hospital was COVID-19 free. Within a few days, the situation turned on its head. We had a series of admissions; primarily traders from in and around the Panruti region and adjoining towns — few among the many infected due to the Koyambedu cluster.
Soon, shift charts were prepared and we were designated roles. Being a critical care nurse, I have seen everything — life, death and sometimes resurrection too. But despite the decade- long training I had, I was unusually nervous when I had to step into the corona isolation ward for the first time. After all, nurses are those who offer not just first-aid and medicines but also words of kindness, a smile, touch and a lending ear as one waits to meet the doctor. In this situation, we were tossed out of our comfort zones. The touch was out of the equation.
The smile concealed behind our mask and face shields, and as for lending an ear, we weren’t allowed to spend more than a few minutes with the patients. So, I was unsure about what I was taking on. It was 6.30 pm and I was gearing up for my first shift. I quickly had a bowl of rice and vegetables, sanitised my hands, used the restroom, sanitised myself again, stepped out and wore the personal protective equipment (PPE) suit. I knew I won’t be able to even sip water after getting into it. By 7 pm, it was time to give the COVID patients their dose of medicines and dinner. I packed everything, arranged it on a trolley and nervously pushed it up two floors to the ward. Within a few minutes, I was beginning to sweat and suffocate under the layers of the suit. But I took a deep breath and stepped into the isolation facility. I was scared, worried.
What if I get infected? What if something dreadful happens to me? I had moved to the hospital’s quarantine facility to isolate myself from my husband and six-year-old son. I was scared I won’t be able to see them again. But, I became a nurse for a reason. Hailing from a small village, Vannankudikadu in Virudhachalam, I became the first generation medical professional in our family in 2006. Despite the hardships, my father encouraged me to pursue my dreams of helping people. I couldn’t let him down. Soon, I brushed my worries away and began giving the medicines and food to the patients. Mostly middle-aged men, the patients were weary and weak.
I remember talking to all 30 patients for a few minutes. Some turned teary-eyed. For over a week, they hadn’t seen their friends or family, and I realised even short conversations worked like a balm. For the next seven days, I spent about six to seven hours wearing the PPE suit, checking in on the patients and monitoring their vitals; taking tests, serving food and medicines, and trying not to think of the uncertainties. By then, six staff members in the hospital had been affected by the virus and were admitted. They had, perhaps, contracted the infection from the fever OP ward.
As nurses, we were more vulnerable than doctors, especially given how frequently we had to come in close contact with patients. Usually, between us, the food-medicine trolley and the patient, there hardly is much distance. So we had to tread carefully. In a span of two months, the hospital saw 70 positive cases. For a small-town hospital, this was a big number. I keep thanking my stars. So far, our hospital hasn’t seen even one COVID death and I am grateful for it.
By the end of June, the 70-odd patients who were admitted recovered while in quarantine and reunited with their kith and kin. It was truly heartwarming. Now, we are back to zero cases. For 21 days, I stayed at the quarantine facility. With no contact with the outside world except for phone calls to my husband once or twice a day, it was a challenge. I took the required tests, and only after the reports came out negative did I meet my family.
The homecoming was special but unfortunately, I couldn’t even hug my son. Every day, I travel about seven kilometres to reach the hospital. I separate my belongings from my family’s. I ensure I take every precaution while I am at work and when I go back home. I am not scared anymore. The patients who recovered have given me hope that we will tide through this situation.
Shanthi Lakshmi* is a senior nurse with 14 years of experience. She works at a government hospital in Chidambaram. (As told to Roshne Balasubramanian) *Name changed