Lessons from a Pandemic
I tell my children that they will be able to share firsthand stories with their children and grandchildren about a significant piece of history: the pandemic in their lifetime. It gives me perspective for this very interesting time in my own life and helps me slow down and appreciate all that is happening and everything I am learning. COVID19 has made a big impression: in 2020, in the world, in the US, in Kansas, in the healthcare community, in my own work, family and life. Some changes are negative (fear, economic impact, morbidity and mortality). And some are positive. Those useful changes are the ones I am working to recognize, learn from and pivot toward in the longer-term.
Fear does all sorts of funny things to a person. It knocks you off-kilter and scrambles your circuits. I have long known that my mission in life is not to save the world (Changing My Space), but the first intense week of COVID19 in the US had me focused well outside of my areas of influence, too often allowing the frenetic fear propagated on social media to invade my personal headspace. Beginning, and then continuing to do, two things helped me pivot from negative to positive: intentionally avoid triggers for fear (“stop looking at Twitter/Facebook as soon as you have a twinge of anxiety”) and move toward solutions. We established a cross-organizational COVID Team in our community that meets regularly to touch base, problem solve and plan. By having a group that could identify known or potential concerns and had the right people to brainstorm a solution and implement the plan immediately, we went from fear that sometimes felt paralyzing to productive action. I have certainly learned a lot more in the last month about pandemic preparedness (and disaster safety in general) than I ever thought I needed for my career goals. I hope I don’t need it again, but if I do…well, I’ll be ready!
After the time period of intense work and long hours to prepare for COVID19 in our community, life has settled into a more predictable pattern, and I’ve started to see other positives of this new lifestyle that comes with the #StayHomeStaySafe mentality.
My “normal” life usually involves quite a bit of travel: on average, I hit the road 10 days out of the month, spending 1-2 weekends away from home. Don’t get me wrong: I like to travel! I am a foodie and love the diversity of delectable options that being in a different city offers. Seeing far-away friends in person is always a treat, and travel frequently brings me close enough to connect with someone. As our children get older, my spouse can travel with me more, which creates time to intentionally be together. During this pandemic, I have stayed firmly planted. I landed in Hays on Sunday, February 23 after an 8-day trip as the COVID19 threat was growing in South Korea and have remained within a 25-mile radius of my house ever since.
Staying put has advantages. Some aren’t surprising: my laundry stays caught up (meh) and my family eats supper every night together (yeah!). One I positive I didn’t expect is the overall feeling of being less pressured; I can stay in my routine more easily, and that translates to better mental health. Being home every weekend means having a buffer to end and begin each work week, a little time to just relax and not budget the hours in each day so strictly.
An enforced period of no travel also means that teams I partner with have found creative workarounds when not able to meet in person: board meetings by conference calls, retreats by video, asynchronous work to get group projects completed. And, largely, it works! Being forced out of the default of “we’ll just get together in person” has allowed us to see other options for the future. While there are some events that do require people to be in the same location, many meetings don’t require the effort of travel.
My favorite lesson from this pandemic is one I already knew: people are good. No matter where you live, what you do or who you are, you have the opportunity to see this in evidence. My best friend from childhood made cloth masks and sent them to me for my staff and their families. My community rallied to support a concern I voiced. My ACO provided resources that made it possible to keep the doors open financially and bright spots that helped us carry on during dark days. My partners and staff changed workflows in an impossibly short time to improve safety for our patients and teams. My family fed me, loved me and took care of me.
When the weight of this situation feels heavy to me, I pause to recognize it is a blessing to have time to reflect on all that is good in this world and learn these lessons from a pandemic.