“Baptism by Fire”: Covid ICU Medical Volunteer-Photo Essay | Art and Design

Some images have blurred details to protect the patient’s identity.

“When I started adapting to PPE next to the Covid ICU ward, I realized what I was doing. How to see what was really happening and draw my own conclusions? Perhaps it’s a privilege. My first impression was: It was real, people looked sick, were in danger, and were in the hands of doctors. Doctors and nurses were running around. But I was also pondering. I saw a doctor with his hand on his waist looking at the patient. I could almost hear his thoughts.

I’ve seen a lot in my 25 years as a photographer. War, famine, suffering and illness, but the atmosphere in the ward was something I had never experienced. Only nurses and doctors speak medical terms and can’t chat, family or face. All I could hear was the bleaching and squeaking of the shoes of people walking down the hallway. There are no moans, crying, or emotions. When I looked at the patient, it looked white like a ghost. I went to work. I went home that night and stayed up until 5 am. It’s worrisome because the people I filmed looked young and healthy. The youngest and poorest I photographed was nine years older than me. Graeme Robertson, photographer.

The University College Hospital London, which has reached its capacity, has called for the support of medical volunteers. Among those who entered the physically and mentally exhausting world of the Covid-19 intensive care unit was consultant endocrinologist Dr. Helen Simpson, 52, for the fourth year. University College London Medical Student, Seyi Adeleye and Theo Reback, both 21.

Seyi Adeleye | 4th grade medical student

“That’s what I applied for as a doctor,” said Adelaie, who realized she was supporting the exhausted nursing staff. “And it was a baptism by fire.”

Practical tasks such as important observations, drug preparation, helping the patient turn around, cleaning the patient, and disposing of urine and feces can alleviate the burden on the overloaded nurse.

On her third day, the patient got worse and their family came in. Adeleye knew the prognosis. “It was hard to see. You keep it together while you are there. But you came out, stopped and cried a little.” Two days later, the patient died.

After a while she sat down and thought. “I saw someone taking a breath. It’s crazy. It’s what I’m still working on and will continue to work on what it means.”

The most emotional time is when staff facilitate FaceTime calls between patients and their families. “And you can hear the story of the family. In one particular case, it was really hard because it was a young patient, had a small child, and heard the child sing to their parents. It’s difficult. “

Patients are often asleep. “You sit there and repeat.’You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re in UCH.” Some people are conscious, but they can’t speak because it’s a tube. “So I’m finding a way to communicate.”

However, another day she witnessed the patient being extubated, currently in recovery, and later managed to leave the hospital. “And that made me cry too, because you haven’t seen many of them, and it was great to know that they were discharged.”

Dr. Helen Simpson | FRCP, PhD Consultant

In addition to her work as a consultant endocrinologist at UCH, Helen Simpson is currently volunteering to support ICU. “These are the most ill and kill more than 40%.”

“I can be two, and I look at them and think,’Well, that’s the odds of 50:50.’ Basically, one dies and the other dies. Hmm. And I’ve never worked in an environment with a 50% mortality rate.

“Many people have died and some staff are exhausted.

“Once you get to the floor, it’s basically non-stop,” she said. The full PPE work she did from time to time for six hours without breaks said, “By the evening, I’m very hot, sweaty, and claustrophobic. My voice is muffled, so I’m tired of talking. . “

She was deeply impressed with how Covid-19 emphasized social inequality. The patient she sees is a front-line worker who has no choice but to work. “It’s an Uber driver, a bus driver, a restaurant worker, a deliveryman, a security guard. People think it’s a dying old man. Everyone I care for is in their 50s. And in his 60s. “

“At ICU, you can see what it’s doing to your family. If your loved one dies, you have a 15-minute video call, and you can only visit until the end of life, it’s very hard to see the burden of suffering. It Is difficult.”

She is worried about the long-term sacrifice of healthcare workers who are currently facing coal for a year, and they will take time to recover and process. She is angry with Rule Frauter and some government decisions.

But there are good points. Amazing teamwork, speed of hospital adaptability. And in this almost inhuman ventilator and Cpap machine world, she had the opportunity to meet not only the patient, but also a woman who had removed the ventilator and placed it in the respiratory tract. It was. “And she was able to smile. It’s really a boost to see this person awake and laughing. You see who they are.”

She escapes by walking and cycling. “I try to get out for nature.”

Theo Ribak | 4th grade medical student

Theo Rebank found that he wasn’t ready for the wide range of ages he supported. One of the patients – a woman in her late twenties – really resonated with him. “It was a very shocking experience.”

Another difficult moment is when the family sees a loved one on a ventilator over a video call, he said. “The first time they see them, you can hear them, and it’s an absolute shock.”

He has witnessed more than most of his early twenties. One patient wearing a ventilator had a video call with his family. “It was her young son” Hello mummy, is heartbreaking to see that you say you are miss. “She was able to hear his voice, it can not be the reaction, the eye I could only open it. “

A special moment was when another patient who had been on a ventilator for about 40 days woke up. He still had a tracheostomy tube in his throat. “And I said his name and asked if he could hear me, and he nodded. This was his first interaction with people. He just nodded. It was very special. It all feels worth it. “

“I will bring this experience to my future clinical career,” he said. “Whether it’s your first day as a foundation doctor or a day as a consultant, if you feel outside your comfort zone, you’ll remember the cold, winter day of January 2021. Play your part. Driven by a deep desire to want, I entered a virus-filled room where I spent the last eight months doing everything I could avoid. “