When my spouse entered the medical field, we were aware that it would be a challenging journey. Years of rigorous training, demanding hours, and the need to study for board exams were just the beginning. However, we could never have envisioned the toll that a pandemic would take on his profession or our family.
When COVID-19 struck our community in mid-March, I felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Beyond my concerns for my own health and my children’s well-being, I was also worried about my husband — an ICU doctor and pulmonologist. As a frontline worker, he often became the last person his patients would see, dedicating extra hours and shifts to save lives.
Throughout my life, I have faced numerous challenges and dealt with significant personal struggles, including severe depression during my teenage years. I’ve learned how to stay positive in tough times, finding silver linings even in the darkest moments. However, nothing prepared me for the cruel and shocking comments I encountered during this pandemic. It was almost unbearable.
One of the most disturbing things I heard was the belief that the virus was a hoax and that doctors were lying. A conversation with an old friend left me feeling physically ill when they suggested that physicians were falsely diagnosing patients to manipulate statistics. While I may not be a medical expert, I know my husband is committed to his patients and would never spread misinformation. I was left speechless.
By April, my husband’s ICU was overwhelmed with COVID-19 patients, and he was seeing 20-30 each shift. He worked longer hours than ever, stepping into uncertainty day after day. He shared in the grief of his patients’ families while also managing his own emotions at home. He placed young individuals, often without pre-existing conditions, on ventilators — people our age, with children just like ours. Yet, despite this reality, many around us insisted the virus was a fabrication and that he was being dishonest.
Social media was rife with claims that “this is just the flu,” despite the fact that our family has witnessed firsthand the strain the flu puts on the ICU each winter. This year was unlike anything we had experienced before.
An even stranger accusation was that doctors were profiting from COVID diagnoses. Friends, acquaintances, and even family members tried to convince me that hospitals were incentivized to inflate the numbers. My own brother called me one Monday morning to declare that “all doctors are crooks” profiting from lies about the pandemic. I was in shock. I had joked with my husband about when we would receive our “COVID bonus,” only to find out that it never came.
Amidst the judgment, anger, and fear that surrounded us, I constantly worried. I feared for my husband’s health, especially since he has asthma — how would that impact him if he contracted the virus? Each day brought more anxiety about the possibility of him falling ill or, worse, that I could lose him.
I worried he would unknowingly bring COVID-19 home to us. We considered having him quarantine in the basement, but the thought of handling three young children alone was daunting. Instead, I met him at the door every evening, ensuring his belongings were sanitized, and any surfaces he touched were disinfected. I became obsessed with cleanliness.
I also worried about his mental health as he faced the emotional toll of his job. By May, he was no longer himself. I tried my best to suppress my own anxiety to support him, planning enjoyable meals and activities to lift our spirits. We found ways to connect, whether through puzzles, dance parties, or even “camping” on our deck. Small distractions became essential as we navigated the overwhelming sadness and loss surrounding us.
My own mental state suffered as well. While many complained about their partners being home too much, I longed for my husband’s presence, feeling the weight of being alone with three small kids. Our children frequently asked about their dad: When would he return? Would he be home the next day? The reality of their father helping the sick was difficult for them to grasp, especially when they began to worry about his safety.
During this time, it was disheartening to see friends and family continue their lives as if nothing had changed, hosting large gatherings and planning events. Thankfully, some amazing individuals in our lives reached out with kindness, sending messages, flowers, and even gifts to lift our spirits. They became our lifeline, while the circle of people we could trust grew smaller. Very few understood the immense responsibility my husband bore for his patients or the fear we felt about unwittingly carrying the virus.
Eventually, I realized I needed to redirect my focus. I stopped engaging with negativity and let go of the guilt for not attending events. I prioritized my husband and our children, finding small joys in each day. I avoided social media, which only added to my stress.
This year has taught me the significance of cherishing what truly matters and surrounding myself with those who support us. As we brace for the second wave of this pandemic, it’s clear we have a long road ahead. Our children’s school is preparing for virtual learning over the Thanksgiving holiday, and hospital cases are on the rise. Finding joy in small moments and leaning on our community will be vital as we navigate this ongoing challenge.
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In summary, the experience of being the partner of an ICU doctor during the COVID-19 pandemic has been filled with challenges, anxiety, and a strong urge to protect my family. It has highlighted the importance of support, resilience, and focusing on what truly matters amidst a backdrop of fear and misinformation.