Thursday, September 23, 2021

Hope on the Horizon

 Isola dei Pescatori (photo by V)


My parents are in Italy right now, and my sister and her husband, Marco, just returned from their overseas trip there, the first in close to two years. Looking at their pictures makes me long so much for a true soul-recharging exotic vacation and the opportunity to travel again. While I am jealous of the adults-only-all-fully-vaccinated-vacations (while we're still constantly on edge about childcare quarantines over here), I do recognize that we (I mean those in our family) are far closer than we were a year ago to returning to "normal life."  2021 is the only year in my recent memory (perhaps ever in my life?) that I haven't been to a foreign country (we miraculously got to Patagonia before the world shut down in 2020). I'm hoping that we can make it to Jamaica in 2022, a resort trip we've planned with my parents.

The great news: children's COVID vaccines seem to be on the horizon! 



While I believe that quarantines for kids are unnecessary even now, public health officials at least in our state disagree, and I am hopeful that when the under-twelves are vaccinated, school, activities, and life will not be significantly (or at all) disrupted by the threat of (or actual) "COVID contacts."  While I am having a hard time daring to hope, as I thought there was a chance kids might be COVID-vaccinated prior to returning to school this fall (and that the pandemic would be winding to a close--neither of which has happened yet), a possible Halloween "stick or treat" shot for our oldest (which Kelvin thinks is actually quite realistic in terms of timing from what the news is telling) would be a huge blessing (even though "a couple of months" still seems a looong way off for us parents, and Niall is still under five).

Another sign of hope: in a season and after years of drought, we locally had some much-needed rain this past weekend, and the smoky skies aren't nearly as bad as one year ago.


I and many healthcare workers are struggling every week with the exhaustion and long hours that come with working during a (now, eighteen months in, preventable) pandemic and chronically short-staffed.  We are tired of answering calls or MyChart e-mails from unvaccinated (despite counseling) COVID-positive patients at all hours. We are tired of trying to get unvaccinated people in for rapid testing or their monoclonal antibody treatment when ill.  We are tired of seeing babies die because of maternal COVID and our primary care patients die in the ICU. We are tired of having the "vaccine talk" so we could be past this.  I am tired of taking one-in-three three OB call and pulling all-nighters on a regular basis.  That being said, we have some prenatal/delivering provider candidates who I think will sign on in the next couple of months to help share the call burden. Our current providers' maternity leaves will not be indefinite. And, at some point (especially when young kids are vaxxed), the collective "we" will have some sort of herd immunity, whether acquired or natural (new variants permitting). 

"Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness." -Desmond Tutu

It's hard, but I am trying to let myself feel that light through the crack, just a little bit...

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