A young physician's journey of recovery from surviving breast cancer to coping with the traumatic stress of providing front line care during the COVID pandemic
It’s Christmas Eve. I am curled comfortably under a warm blanket. The Christmas tree lights are twinkling. My dog leans pleasantly against me, a living heater. It is a pleasant morning … yet I am alone. I am not alone by choice this holiday but by circumstance. Two weeks ago my husband declared that he …
I drag myself through the day. I am hungry but too fatigued to prepare a meal. I am thirsty but haven’t maintained adequate hydration. I want to decorate for the holidays, bake cookies, and watch happy holiday movies like “normal” people do but I can not manage to drag myself off the couch. Days later …
The sun streams through my window. Beams of sunlight fall across my face, warming me. I groan and roll over. It is mid-morning already and I have yet to drag myself out of bed. There are many moving parts in my life right now and I am once again struggling with severe fatigue. I was …
I awake with a start. It is still dark though from the birds singing in the distance I know it is almost sunrise. I did not sleep particularly well and woke several times with disturbing dreams. My eyes have been open only seconds but there is already much on my mind. I’m guessing it will …
This morning is muggy and humid. Saharan dust has made its yearly pilgrimage across the ocean and suppressed our normal summer tropical systems. Our heat index is predicted to be 112 degrees today. At 8:30 in the morning I am already sweating. This morning as I walked the sidewalks of the neighborhood village, I came …