The Paradox
As I write this post, I’m sitting in an office at CHOA. I’m on service this week, and I’m covering
the nephrology patients that I and my colleagues care for. As I drive to work in the morning, it’s
noticeable that there is less traffic. I don’t live far from work, but with
school buses, commuters and all, it can typically take 25-30 minutes to get
here. And now it takes about 10. Winding my way through Druid Hills and
snaking my way up Eagle Row, it’s a quiet campus. Not unlike spring break…or summer time…or a
long holiday weekend, except it’s not. I
get to CHOA, and it’s easy to find parking.
I come up from the garage, head into the lobby and instead of a lobby
full of people, and therapy dogs, and arts & crafts, I see a table with people
in masks taking temperatures of the people arriving to visit. Visitors, as of now, can only come in one at
a time. Lots of handwashing, lots of
Zoom meetings (even for clinical rounds), lots of anxious people – staff and
families. And very likely some COVID in
our midst. Testing, as you’ve probably
heard, has been very limited, so not everyone who might need a test gets one,
and yet people (including those presumed to have it) are being treated as
though they do. Everyone is doing their
best to stay focused. But everyone hears
the news, has family and friends impacted by what is going on in the world.
I escape the realities of work for a bit, yet work is also
done at home. Zoom meetings, Zoom
teaching sessions, Zoom Match Day…all the while blurring, and maintaining, that
sometimes elusive work-life balance that we all try to achieve. Bike rides help me…yet I try to get out there
early, before the crowds and knowing full well there’s little to no
traffic. There’s a little bit of me that
thinks that even if I pass someone while I’m on a bike, by zipping by fast
enough, I can avoid contact. When I’m
out on the bike, as I was last evening, I can often get some thinking done as
well. It was quite rainy for a couple
days earlier this week, but when I was driving home yesterday the sun was
shining. I had Zoom meetings literally
at 3p, 4p and 4:30-6p. I arrived at home
and wanted to be planted in front of my computer for the one starting at 4:30p,
but when that was over, I needed to ride.
And on that ride I snapped the pics attached here.
Those pics crystallized for me an idea in one word: Paradox. I’m not a poet, by any means, but now and
then I come up with a haiku, so indulge me as I share it with you here.
Paradox
What
a paradox.
Such
beauty in the world,
and
yet suffering.
And despite all that’s going on, nature shows such beauty
around us…but we cannot share it together.
The hospital setting is different, strange, quite…yet there’s sense of
shared purpose, collegiality, and communication. People say ‘good morning’ and ‘how are
you?’…and they mean it. Such a paradox.
The last pic does sum it up for me: the sign reads, ‘We are in this together’. As I sign off to get back to work, just
remember that. Reach out (figuratively)
and reach within. Be physically distant,
yet connect with others through Zoom, and email and texting, etc. Use a time like this to really figure out
your strengths and your weaknesses. Stay
well and stay safe.
Dr. B