Now that I’ve had a few days to reflect on the ebola hysteria, I am glad that our national case of mass temporary insanity appears to have subsided. I don’t want to be the judge of all those who so readily jumped on the bandwagon to CLOSE BORDERS/BAN FLIGHTS and BANISH ANYONE WHO BARFS IN PUBLIC since ebola is a terrible and terrifying disease. But when it looked for a few days like the entire hospital industry in the United States was going to be taken down by one tragically sick Liberian man in Dallas, I began to appreciate health care workers more than ever.
I can’t imagine going to work every day and facing the risk of possible death by just doing my job. Most of us can’t name a single muscle in a human neck and would probably injure an orange if we tried to inject it with saline. But the biggest difference between most people and health care workers is that most people can choose to turn tail and run like the dickens in the face of danger when paramedics, nurses, hospital technicians and doctors can’t.
This week, I read a moving and thought-provoking Facebook post written by a nurse, who described how she recently held the bloody hand of an HIV-positive patient without gloves. She wasn’t trying to take an unnecessary risk. She was just doing her job, which is probably one of the most complicated, messy, changeable and difficult occupations any person could do. She received both support and criticism for her action and eventually shut down the comments on her post when she said the responders started to resort to name calling.
It made me wonder if I would flinch if I were called upon to help someone who could sicken or injure me.
The honest, shameful answer is yes… because I did.
Several years ago, I was riding the light rail train into town and sat behind an utterly distasteful woman. She was overweight and unkempt, with dirty hair and crooked, discolored teeth. But that’s not what bothered me. Her two small children were running wild, fighting, yelling and bumping into other irritated passengers. She mostly ignored her kids, except to occasionally scream at them from afar without making any attempt to contain or control them.
I wasn’t thinking very highly of her and was wishing that this trolley ride from hell would soon end when the mother started to wheeze and cough. Before long, the poor woman was hacking, gasping and experiencing a full-fledged asthma attack right before my very eyes. She rifled through her purse and looked panicked when she couldn’t find what she was looking for.
Without hesitation, I reached into my purse, pulled out an emergency inhaler and handed it to her. She grabbed it, and I watched her put it in her mouth, press down the top and suck in the vapor. She took several puffs before she could even talk again. When able, she thanked me profusely, genuinely grateful for my help.
Even her bratty kids, who had slowed down when they sensed their mother was in jeopardy, smiled at me before starting up a new round of squealing and rampaging, knowing their mom was okay.
I know I did the right thing and I believe I would do it again.
But I totally flinched.
Inwardly, I cringed when I handed her the inhaler. I honestly felt disgusted. I thought about germs, decay and disease and contemplated whether I could adequately disinfect the inhaler or if I would have to just throw it away.
I’m not proud of this.
Yet that small gesture on my part is nothing compared to what medical professionals must face every day. I don’t ever want to take them for granted. Doctors, nurses and technicians around the world demonstrate immeasurable courage and selflessness every day by caring for dangerously sick patients.
The next time we go a little publicly bonkers over ebola or another dreadful disease, we should all feel humbled and grateful to know that the medical profession really does live by the meme: KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON.
Thank you.
* * *
Please visit my website at http://annkhowley.com/#about-ann