A cheery good morning from Portland, OR — or as I affectionately call it, the surface of the sun.
It’s a million degrees outside, day and night. The heat is constant and oppressive, and none of the promises meteorologists make about when it will end ever seem to come true. As a vulnerable, pale-skinned Canadian with a highly exposed scalp, I’m virtually unrecognizable under about 20 layers of sunscreen. And since no one told me not to apply it above my eyes, I’m blinded every time I sweat.
Sometimes my Sisyphean struggle against brain-melting heatstroke and melanoma seems too great, and I think seriously about never daring to step outside again. I desperately long to reinhabit the world the way it used to be, before the weather turned our daily existence into a hopeless global battle against an invincible foe.
Weird. For a moment there, I thought I was just venting about the heat wave. But now I realize that virtually every word in the preceding paragraphs also describes how it feels for facility care staff to still be stuck in N95s and face shields after two-plus years. Hot and oppressive? Check. Empty promises of an end in sight? Check. Unrecognizable? Check. Vision-impaired? Check. Looking longingly at the past, exhausted by the ordeal, and thinking seriously about never showing up again? Check, check and double-check.
These dastardly heat waves are turning out to be a nationwide metaphor for your lives in long-term care. And since it’s unlikely you’ll ever get a politician or regulator to actually spend a day in your shoes — trying to serve and connect with residents while wearing multiple layers of PPE and having a Q-tip shoved up your nose needlessly often — maybe this is the best teaching moment we can hope for.
So here’s my extremely practical suggestion for maximizing the opportunity. Next time an unprecedented heat dome hovers over your geographic area, which at the current rate should be any minute now, rush out into the street and see if you can find a politician or CMS leader wandering around in a sun-induced daze. When you do, casually strike up the following conversation:
You: “Wow, it’s unbelievably hot today.”
Politician and/or regulator: “I know! I’m dying here in this dark suit I have to wear for reasons I don’t even remember anymore. Will this nightmare ever end?”
You: “Welcome to my world.”
Politician and/or regulator: “Is this really what it’s like for you to provide care to our nation’s most vulnerable?”
You: “Why yes, it is indeed. Thank you for asking.”
Politician and/or regulator: “Oh, you poor dear. I had no idea, but your clever heat wave metaphor has opened my eyes. Maybe at this point in the pandemic, with vaccines and other effective COVID-fighting tools readily available and effective, we should make the masking, testing and isolation rules consistent with the science and what’s required of other healthcare entities.”
You: “What a great idea!”
Politician and/or regulator: “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.”
You: “That’s OK. Don’t beat yourself up. And by the way, could I please have all that in writing? Before the weather changes?”
Expecting that sort of sudden epiphany might be asking a wee bit much — this heat has definitely curdled my thinking. But hopefully very soon, the pleas from industry leaders and advocates will finally get through to the people who matter.
And when it happens, and especially in that moment when your residents can finally see your faces again, you’ll be walking on sunshine. And won’t it feel good?
Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.
The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.
