A nurse who sacrificed time with a baby pen letter of heartache from the NHS Covid frontline

A nurse who sacrificed time to participate in a fight with a baby Coronavirus We talked about the ongoing heartache at the forefront of the NHS.

The ward’s sister, Vicky Neville, 34, wrote an open letter explaining the pain of losing a patient and calling a loved one in tragic news.

She says she raised her voice to “open the eyes of people” about the effects of the virus.

In her letter, an intensive care unit nurse talks about the last moments of two fathers whose wife couldn’t be by his side because she was also infected with the virus.

The patient was a kind and friendly man who constantly waved to the nurses and asked how their day was before their condition worsened and they put on a ventilator.

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Vicky, a 10-year nurse, writes: “I have the undesired task of ringing his wife, a relative of the patient.

“I explain that their husband got worse and the shift leader said they could get in. They get in because they are sick in Covid-19 and no one is close enough to come. Says you can’t.

“I hear them cry and hold back tears. I tell them I’m with their husband, and I won’t leave him. I won’t leave him, I will stay beside him for 3 hours – he was arrested. 15 minutes of CPR.

“We got him back. He was arrested again. This time there is no CPR, we got him back. But the third time it was too much for his body and he died. I grabbed his hand with double gloves, put a knitted heart on his chest, and my visor steamed from the tears in my eyes. He was 57 years old, the same age as my mother. was.

“I called his wife because the doctor was down in an accident and emergency with a referral and another sick patient. She sobbed. I how we all do. Explained what went to, and I was very sorry for her loss, perhaps the worst phone call I’ve ever made.

“She thanked us for doing our best. It hurt my heart because we couldn’t save him and she was alone. I she I couldn’t hold my hand or comfort her like before Covid-19. I go behind the curtains and do the last office. This is the last part of the care I can provide to my patients. I told him what his wife said to me, and I held his hand when I took off his wedding ring and put it in a plastic bag to give to his wife. “

Vicky, who works at Warrington Hospital in Cheshire, told Miller: “These phones are horrifying. It’s just painful to have to receive one. This guy was in the first wave, but we’re still just as sick.

“When you sign up for a nurse, you never sign up for a pandemic – to care for someone in the intensive care unit next to them when they are dying without their relatives.

“The sad thing about Covid is that it’s so fast. Some patients say goodbye to their loved ones through masks. That’s scary.”

Vicky’s son Leo was only five months old when he decided to return early from maternity leave when the first wave of the pandemic began.

She was looking forward to spending time with Leo after trying to have a baby with her partner Karl for two years. But when she saw the effects of the virus on the NHS, she decided to help.

In her first letter to the Nursing Times, she wrote: I’m all for my unit, I love where I work and work with absolutely great people.

“I could see it getting worse and started seeing our message pop up Facebook group. ”

In her letter, she felt a “wave of sadness” after the patient’s body was removed from the ward and had a strong urge to hug her son and tell her partner how much she loved him. I’m telling you.

But she writes: “I can’t sit and cry. I’ll check all the staff and patients right away, my colleagues put their hands on my back, am I okay?

“I’m not okay, but I say I’m fine and thank them for their support.”

She adds: “I am fortunate to work in a wonderful place. This place shows resilience and patience from the first wave to the second wave. We have saved many lives. But unfortunately we lost our lives, including our own staff, on the way. “

She returned home at 8:30 pm after the patient’s death and was careful not to bring the virus into her family’s home.

She wrote the night in a letter: “I take it off in the bathroom downstairs, disinfect everything I touch, go straight to the washing machine, take a shower, and wash away tears, sweat and other infections.

“Finally, at 9 pm, I hug the boy who had been sleeping for hours. Another day I didn’t put him to sleep.

“I hug my partner, and he asks how was my day, and do I want to talk about it?’Not tonight.'”

As the second wave continues, Vicky refuses to stop and deal with her sorrow. She concludes in the letter: “One day I would like to talk about patients who have lost, who could not be saved, who have heard family members crying on the phone, or who have managed to withstand in various ways. The PPE layer.

“I mourn my son’s first year dream and question his choices, but not at that moment.

“The second wave is underway and needs to be strong enough to fight a little longer.”

Vaccinated Vicky is optimistic that he will marry Karl next year.

She says. “That’s good news. Hopefully this will ease the pressure on the hospital and meet people who aren’t as sick as we’re getting.

“I hope this year will improve, and I hope it will stop the virus from recurring and I will be able to get married next October.”