A Call for More Nuanced Distancing — and PPE

In a time when we are practicing physical social distancing, maybe we should also consider what my brother refers to as a “more nuanced distancing.” When I made the decision to deactivate my Facebook (FB) account several days ago, I felt a sense of freedom, a heavy burden lifted. Allow me to explain.

As a nurse, my biggest concern is not having the personal protective equipment (PPE) I need to protect myself, my patients, my co-workers, and my family, including my husband, who is over 70 years old. These concerns are not paranoia; they are a reality for our already overwhelmed healthcare systems. Recently I was informed by my workplace that nursing and healthcare staff need to use the same mask for an entire shift. Thankfully, we have no known Covid-19 cases — yet.

My heart goes out to this nurse who spoke up from Cape Cod Hospital in Hyannis, Massachusetts, “Initially, we had single-use N95 masks. Now we reuse our N95s five times before discarding,” (Hopkins, Caroline. “We are desperate”: Trump’s inaction has created a crisis with protective medical gear.” Vox. March 23, 2020. )The eye shields she uses are also meant for single use, but nurses are being asked to wear the same eye shield for 12 hours, if they are “lucky” enough to have them. And she is treating Covid-19 patients. I have made my own eye shield from my husband’s construction-grade face shield.

I applaud this nurse for the courage to come forward, as many nurses are being warned not to speak out and are afraid of losing their jobs if they do so.

Although I am mostly a “stalker” on FB, last Friday I broke with my distanced tradition after speaking to two of my family members, who are also nurses. I had called them on the phone to see how they were doing, as workers on the front lines. One of them, a public health nurse who works in a state at the epicenter of the disease, told me that she did not have access to hand sanitizer and had not been given clear directives by her workplace about the standard of precautions needed to protect herself, her family and her patients. The other one told me she was having to reuse masks, and she works with immunosuppressed patients.

I went a little crazy.

Was I angry? Yes. Do I want our president to take drastic and cohesive action to make PPE available and to fight this disease? Yes. Do I want a cohesive national strategy to allocate increasingly scare resources and policies so that each state is not having to go it alone? Yes. Do I want our government to nationalize the production of desperately needed medical equipment and work with China and other governments to obtain it? You bet I do. Do I want my family and fellow nurses to stay safe? Do I want you to stay at home if you are a non-essential worker? Duh. I would rather not care for your sorry ass with a reused mask if you have not been following the public health guidelines and joined the masses this past weekend at the beaches, parks, and bars. And quite frankly, I’d rather not die.

I expected support from my fellow nurses. I admit, I am naive. Instead, I found this:

“Soap and water?”

“Communism is coming…”

“We should care about cancer patients too.”

WTF?

These posts were from three nurse “friends,” two of whom are retired. [Perspectives from armchair warriors are rarely reassuring.] Now I am proud of my pacifist Mennonite upbringing and generally try to honor non-violent solutions to disagreements, but I was ready to make an exception. I even swore; heck with the risk of tasting the soap my mother used to use to rinse my mouth when I lacked discretion.

Here’s the thing: 1) scrub outfits do not come equipped with a sink with running water and soap, 2) better to be criticized for doing too much rather than too little as the body count rises, a la our governor’s directives to stay home, and 3) the last time I checked, I could not “catch” cancer and die from caring for a patient with cancer, unlike the Covid-19.

What had been a happy day for me quickly turned into rage-filled evening. My husband, trying to keep a safe distance — figuratively speaking — from my rants, offered his usual helpful advice, “I told you to not look at that thing [Facebook].” What had happened to my zen state, my sense of community, love for my fellow man and woman? — gone. Another FB friend, a historian and sage comedian, finally managed to bring a smile to my face when he expressed support for my concern and posted, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning.”

Desperate for guidance and perspective, I texted my distress on my WhatsApp family group. Our family group consists of six siblings, their spouses and my 86-year-old mother. Ironically, WhatsApp is a platform owned by Facebook, Inc. My brother, a Mennonite pastor, wrote:

“As one who practices a high degree of social distancing on Facebook, I wonder if an even more nuanced distancing is needed during a time when we feel so out of control. We can’t control or fix the ignorance of others especially on Facebook. Move ‘closer’ toward those who are the helpers, the curious, the thoughtful, and the ones with whom you already share relationship and trust. The ‘closer’ is in quotes of course since practicing safe social distancing requires six feet. :)”

Brilliant.

The next day I posted the words of my brother on my FB page and informed my friends I was deactivating my account. Unfortunately, FB only permits a maximum of a 7-day deactivation — at least that I could locate — so I am considering a permeant deletion.

I want to be happy, not react. I want to build bridges, not walls, with my friends. I want to advocate for and support our healthcare workers. I want my government to take collective action now to manufacture and allocate critically needed PPE, respirators, and ventilators. I want to expose my mind to uplifting music and thoughtful words, not scroll mindlessly through endless posts. I want to keep my family close, as well as my friends who practice thoughtfulness and curiosity, if not in person, at least in spirt. I want to spread accurate information, not fringe theories. But mostly, I don’t want to spread viruses.

In the meantime, peace out to Facebook. Friends and family, spread my brother’s words. And keep a safe distance from snarky comments.