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VictorB 07-09-2020 07:35 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by DiscFifty (Post 3604990)
ok.. you're POTUS, what do YOU do that would save the decline of America? This country was not prepared to handle a pandemic. No administration before Trump would have handled this any better imop. The situation is too dynamic, way too political due to an election year.

You do know that the previous president actually had a thoroughly outlined plan of response and prevention, and this administration threw it away? Or that he disbanded the pandemic response division of the CDC? Details that have been lost among the trees.

Yes, the situation is dynamic - it's a brand new virus and these things take time to understand - but any reaction other than 'oh it will go away soon' would have been handling it better. Something. ANYTHING.

The solution is out there - but the people crying about wearing a mask surely can't handle the methods that Wuhan and China have used in order to control the virus.

Broken Shoulder 07-09-2020 08:00 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by DiscFifty (Post 3604990)
ok.. you're POTUS, what do YOU do that would save the decline of America? This country was not prepared to handle a pandemic. No administration before Trump would have handled this any better imop. The situation is too dynamic, way too political due to an election year.

Is the solution simply to tell everyone to shut down, stay home and enjoy your monthly virusfare check until we have a vaccine ready? (I confess..I'm leaning in that direction, but I also know our economy would tank.)

I'm curious.. who you are defining as "idiots"? :popcorn:

Individual citizens may not have been any better prepared, but all previous administrations had a pandemic playbook.
Additionally, I can't imagine any other president (regardless of party affiliation) withholding medical supplies from individual governors like a petulant 5 year old.

I also believe that any other president (again, regardless of party) would have put more of the focus on the scientists on the response team instead of spotlighting themselves during press briefings so they could engage in unwarranted back-patting.

We clearly don't know how outcomes would be changed in this alternative scenario, but we can know that our current "leader's" response has been a colossal failure.

BogeyNoMore 07-09-2020 08:10 AM

I sure as hell wouldn't make public statements and tweets that counter everything the CDC and every public health official has said. I wouldn't push to have a large rallies. I wouldn't tell people we've got things under control or that we're in a good place, when it's obvious we're not.

DavidSauls 07-09-2020 08:10 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by DiscFifty (Post 3604990)
Is the solution simply to tell everyone to shut down, stay home and enjoy your monthly virusfare check until we have a vaccine ready? (I confess..I'm leaning in that direction, but I also know our economy would tank.)

We never told everyone to shut down and stay home. We only closed a bit of the economy---I don't know, maybe 15%?---with a higher percentage staying home but still working.

Nor did we have the option to just have millions of deaths but a strong economy. Allowing CV to run unchecked would likely have tanked the economy, too.

funguy 07-09-2020 09:17 AM

These are tough times for everyone. We have to have sympathy even when it is hard and when we know that people are potentially harming themselves and others. My sister-in-law is a nurse and sent me this link last week. It is from a hospice nurse and I think it sums it up nicely. We are all "grieving" and dealing with it differently. Be kind, even when someone isn't wearing a mask. But also don't back down to "critical thinking" used to gaslight you.

Carly Benjamin
July 6 at 1:58 PM Shared with Public
"I am a hospice nurse.
I work in an inpatient hospice center.
These days, since healthcare is now considered a battleground, I would be considered the last stop. The last stop on the front lines.
I have been working in hospice for seven years, and have been working with end of life patients in some capacity for my entire nursing career. I am no stranger to Death, and I am not afraid of it. I have helped hundreds, if not thousands of people die, and I have been impacted in some way by every single one.
Over the past four months, I have watched dozens of people die from COVID-19. Countless people. Perfect strangers. People from my community. Parents and grandparents of people I know and love. Of people you know and love. Some that were sick and declining before they got COVID. Some that were not.
I have listened to the sound that breath makes when it struggles in and out of a person's dying body because their airways are swollen and inflamed with this virus.
I have watched bodies produce so much fluid in response to this virus that it spills out of them, pours out of their mouth and nose.
I have watched people recover from the respiratory symptoms only to have their muscles rendered so weak, so useless, that they can no longer eat, that their mouths and throats and stomachs no longer know what to do with food.
I have admitted people so swollen from weeks of prone venting that their eyeballs and tongues protrude from their bodies.
I have watched the rise and fall of my patients' chests on baby monitors to check if they are still breathing, because it is too dangerous for us to spend hours at bedside the way we normally would with a patient whose family cannot be present.
On the first day of quarantine, I sat with my husband and cried, trying to wrap my mind around knowing that our unit was the only one now allowing visitors, and that visitation would be severely restricted. Knowing that in many cases, I would be the last person to see my patients alive. Knowing that this part of my job had become simultaneously more important and more difficult.
I have talked with family members on the phone to describe how and why their loved one is dying, to tell them how much time is left. I have listened to them agonize over their decision to not come in for their loved one's final days because they or someone in their household is high risk for complications of the virus. I have the same conversation with them day after day, as they make this terrible decision day after day, until the very last moment.
I have led family members into rooms to see their dying mother, father, sister, brother, best friend, their loved one who was not dying the last time anyone from their family saw them before quarantine began. I watch them take turns with their family members to honor the visitor policy, and know that they will never sit in the same room all together as a family again.
I have sat in these rooms and held phones and tablets up to my dying patients so that their family members can talk to their now unresponsive bodies. So they can share memories of a life well lived and loved. So they can say I'm sorry. So they can say thank you. So they can say goodbye. I have sat there silently, sweating in my PPE, with tears running down my face, bearing witness to the absolute devastation that is this virus.
I have watched families come to terms with the fact that they will not be able to honor their loved one as they had always planned, yet another loss.
I have spent moments, hours, days so scared, so terrified for my own life and that of my family that I was left debilitated. Unable to move. Unable to stop crying. Unable to believe that my choices were to abandon my vocation or walk to my own death. It took weeks and weeks to recover from the trauma of watching the rules change every hour, every day on how we should protect ourselves as healthcare professionals. To realize how unprepared we were as a nation, as a healthcare community. How dispensable I felt. I am still recovering. I may never recover all the way. Every single nurse I know will have PTSD from this. Every single person working in healthcare. Millions of Americans. Millions of people.
And we watch as the use of masks has become a political weapon. We listen to you complain that you don't like the way it feels, or regurgitate some half-assed article about CO2 build-up, as we stare in the mirror at the indents and bruises that wearing two masks for thirteen hours straight have made on our faces. We listen to you repeat absolute fallacies in how this disease is being tested, reported, tracked, and listen to you quote scientifically inaccurate statistics about the efficacy of masks from some article you read on FB. We listen to you state that those with immunocompromised bodies, who have cancer or heart disease or COPD or diabetes, are not your problem. We listen to you boast that you will not be a sheep, that you are "awakened", that you will not participate in this violation of your personal freedom. We sit silently as you tell us that this is all part of some greater scheme to control our minds, bodies, countries. We listen to you tell us you respect our work, that you could never do what we're doing, and then continue railing against the very measures that keep us safe. And then we get up, go to work, and care for the people who are dying from COVID-19.
I tell you all this not because I want to hear anything you have to say in response. I do not want your justification or your rationale or for you to cite your sources. I no longer want to hear it.
I tell you this to try to reach you, to share my truth with you, in hopes that maybe one day one person will make one decision differently. I tell you this so you remember to be safe. Make smart choices. Wear a mask in public. Do not go places just because you can. Be purposeful in your decisions, in finding the balance between your mental and emotional needs and your safety. Touch only who you must.
Because in the end, it comes down to grief. It looks like blame, fear, anger, denial, depression, bargaining, acceptance. But its real name is Grief. We are all grieving. The entire world is grieving. We are never going back to the way it was. Even as our communities and activities and jobs resume, we as people are different forever. The sooner we acknowledge what we are dealing with, the easier it will be to connect with each other. I am grieving, too.
But I am not your ****ing hero."

medic5888 07-09-2020 09:41 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by funguy (Post 3605044)
These are tough times for everyone. We have to have sympathy even when it is hard and when we know that people are potentially harming themselves and others. My sister-in-law is a nurse and sent me this link last week. It is from a hospice nurse and I think it sums it up nicely. We are all "grieving" and dealing with it differently. Be kind, even when someone isn't wearing a mask. But also don't back down to "critical thinking" used to gaslight you.

Carly Benjamin
July 6 at 1:58 PM Shared with Public
"I am a hospice nurse.
I work in an inpatient hospice center.
These days, since healthcare is now considered a battleground, I would be considered the last stop. The last stop on the front lines.
I have been working in hospice for seven years, and have been working with end of life patients in some capacity for my entire nursing career. I am no stranger to Death, and I am not afraid of it. I have helped hundreds, if not thousands of people die, and I have been impacted in some way by every single one.
Over the past four months, I have watched dozens of people die from COVID-19. Countless people. Perfect strangers. People from my community. Parents and grandparents of people I know and love. Of people you know and love. Some that were sick and declining before they got COVID. Some that were not.
I have listened to the sound that breath makes when it struggles in and out of a person's dying body because their airways are swollen and inflamed with this virus.
I have watched bodies produce so much fluid in response to this virus that it spills out of them, pours out of their mouth and nose.
I have watched people recover from the respiratory symptoms only to have their muscles rendered so weak, so useless, that they can no longer eat, that their mouths and throats and stomachs no longer know what to do with food.
I have admitted people so swollen from weeks of prone venting that their eyeballs and tongues protrude from their bodies.
I have watched the rise and fall of my patients' chests on baby monitors to check if they are still breathing, because it is too dangerous for us to spend hours at bedside the way we normally would with a patient whose family cannot be present.
On the first day of quarantine, I sat with my husband and cried, trying to wrap my mind around knowing that our unit was the only one now allowing visitors, and that visitation would be severely restricted. Knowing that in many cases, I would be the last person to see my patients alive. Knowing that this part of my job had become simultaneously more important and more difficult.
I have talked with family members on the phone to describe how and why their loved one is dying, to tell them how much time is left. I have listened to them agonize over their decision to not come in for their loved one's final days because they or someone in their household is high risk for complications of the virus. I have the same conversation with them day after day, as they make this terrible decision day after day, until the very last moment.
I have led family members into rooms to see their dying mother, father, sister, brother, best friend, their loved one who was not dying the last time anyone from their family saw them before quarantine began. I watch them take turns with their family members to honor the visitor policy, and know that they will never sit in the same room all together as a family again.
I have sat in these rooms and held phones and tablets up to my dying patients so that their family members can talk to their now unresponsive bodies. So they can share memories of a life well lived and loved. So they can say I'm sorry. So they can say thank you. So they can say goodbye. I have sat there silently, sweating in my PPE, with tears running down my face, bearing witness to the absolute devastation that is this virus.
I have watched families come to terms with the fact that they will not be able to honor their loved one as they had always planned, yet another loss.
I have spent moments, hours, days so scared, so terrified for my own life and that of my family that I was left debilitated. Unable to move. Unable to stop crying. Unable to believe that my choices were to abandon my vocation or walk to my own death. It took weeks and weeks to recover from the trauma of watching the rules change every hour, every day on how we should protect ourselves as healthcare professionals. To realize how unprepared we were as a nation, as a healthcare community. How dispensable I felt. I am still recovering. I may never recover all the way. Every single nurse I know will have PTSD from this. Every single person working in healthcare. Millions of Americans. Millions of people.
And we watch as the use of masks has become a political weapon. We listen to you complain that you don't like the way it feels, or regurgitate some half-assed article about CO2 build-up, as we stare in the mirror at the indents and bruises that wearing two masks for thirteen hours straight have made on our faces. We listen to you repeat absolute fallacies in how this disease is being tested, reported, tracked, and listen to you quote scientifically inaccurate statistics about the efficacy of masks from some article you read on FB. We listen to you state that those with immunocompromised bodies, who have cancer or heart disease or COPD or diabetes, are not your problem. We listen to you boast that you will not be a sheep, that you are "awakened", that you will not participate in this violation of your personal freedom. We sit silently as you tell us that this is all part of some greater scheme to control our minds, bodies, countries. We listen to you tell us you respect our work, that you could never do what we're doing, and then continue railing against the very measures that keep us safe. And then we get up, go to work, and care for the people who are dying from COVID-19.
I tell you all this not because I want to hear anything you have to say in response. I do not want your justification or your rationale or for you to cite your sources. I no longer want to hear it.
I tell you this to try to reach you, to share my truth with you, in hopes that maybe one day one person will make one decision differently. I tell you this so you remember to be safe. Make smart choices. Wear a mask in public. Do not go places just because you can. Be purposeful in your decisions, in finding the balance between your mental and emotional needs and your safety. Touch only who you must.
Because in the end, it comes down to grief. It looks like blame, fear, anger, denial, depression, bargaining, acceptance. But its real name is Grief. We are all grieving. The entire world is grieving. We are never going back to the way it was. Even as our communities and activities and jobs resume, we as people are different forever. The sooner we acknowledge what we are dealing with, the easier it will be to connect with each other. I am grieving, too.
But I am not your ****ing hero."

This 100%. All I can say is people just give up your simple pleasures in life for a bit. You don't need to gather in masses for a cookout. You don't need to go shopping for clothes. Play your rounds socially distant. My friends and I have what we call covid high fives for good shots. Wash your hands. I know all of you know this. But for the sake of humanity stop putting all of us health care workers at risk bc you're bored and cant stay at home. This disease is real despite what our president says. Its not going away anytime soon until us as humanity do whats right.

BogeyNoMore 07-09-2020 09:45 AM

Excellent perspective from someone in the trenches. Here's the substantive part if you thought that post was TL/DR:

Quote:

And we watch as the use of masks has become a political weapon. We listen to you complain that you don't like the way it feels, or regurgitate some half-assed article about CO2 build-up, as we stare in the mirror at the indents and bruises that wearing two masks for thirteen hours straight have made on our faces. We listen to you repeat absolute fallacies in how this disease is being tested, reported, tracked, and listen to you quote scientifically inaccurate statistics about the efficacy of masks from some article you read on FB. We listen to you state that those with immunocompromised bodies, who have cancer or heart disease or COPD or diabetes, are not your problem. We listen to you boast that you will not be a sheep, that you are "awakened", that you will not participate in this violation of your personal freedom. We sit silently as you tell us that this is all part of some greater scheme to control our minds, bodies, countries. We listen to you tell us you respect our work, that you could never do what we're doing, and then continue railing against the very measures that keep us safe. And then we get up, go to work, and care for the people who are dying from COVID-19.

funguy 07-09-2020 09:52 AM

One of the most enlightening threads I have read in awhile is about Funnel Marketing. This type of "propaganda" affects people of all political thoughts. The more you understand about "how" you are being manipulated, the better you will understand "why" it is happening. We are manipulated by others that really only have one agenda -- the destruction of our country. And if they can do it by making us fight ourselves, then that is what they are going to do. https://twitter.com/i/events/1008079666320756737
Read only if you are going to "critically think". This is not calling out either side, both sides use this technique. But realizing that it is happening is half the battle.

Guurn 07-09-2020 10:14 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by DiscFifty (Post 3604990)
ok.. you're POTUS, what do YOU do that would save the decline of America? This country was not prepared to handle a pandemic. No administration before Trump would have handled this any better imop. The situation is too dynamic, way too political due to an election year.

Is the solution simply to tell everyone to shut down, stay home and enjoy your monthly virusfare check until we have a vaccine ready? (I confess..I'm leaning in that direction, but I also know our economy would tank.)

I'm curious.. who you are defining as "idiots"? :popcorn:

He did an amazing job given the state of the inventory when this hit. We have already seen many times in this thread that people will gladly ignore facts in order to follow narrative. Moving along in a smart careful manner accepting that there may be missteps and bumps in the road is sensible. The problem is the political points that people think they can make if something goes the wrong way. There isn't a right way, they are just choices. We don't have a date on a vaccine, we have several opinions on what best practices are(other than the smart use of masks) and we know that we can't keep the economy shut down. One thing we do know is that we shouldn't send COVID positive people into nursing homes.

ru4por 07-09-2020 10:48 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by funguy (Post 3605044)
These are tough times for everyone. We have to have sympathy even when it is hard and when we know that people are potentially harming themselves and others. My sister-in-law is a nurse and sent me this link last week. It is from a hospice nurse and I think it sums it up nicely. We are all "grieving" and dealing with it differently. Be kind, even when someone isn't wearing a mask. But also don't back down to "critical thinking" used to gaslight you.

Carly Benjamin
July 6 at 1:58 PM Shared with Public
"I am a hospice nurse.
I work in an inpatient hospice center.
These days, since healthcare is now considered a battleground, I would be considered the last stop. The last stop on the front lines.
I have been working in hospice for seven years, and have been working with end of life patients in some capacity for my entire nursing career. I am no stranger to Death, and I am not afraid of it. I have helped hundreds, if not thousands of people die, and I have been impacted in some way by every single one.
Over the past four months, I have watched dozens of people die from COVID-19. Countless people. Perfect strangers. People from my community. Parents and grandparents of people I know and love. Of people you know and love. Some that were sick and declining before they got COVID. Some that were not.
I have listened to the sound that breath makes when it struggles in and out of a person's dying body because their airways are swollen and inflamed with this virus.
I have watched bodies produce so much fluid in response to this virus that it spills out of them, pours out of their mouth and nose.
I have watched people recover from the respiratory symptoms only to have their muscles rendered so weak, so useless, that they can no longer eat, that their mouths and throats and stomachs no longer know what to do with food.
I have admitted people so swollen from weeks of prone venting that their eyeballs and tongues protrude from their bodies.
I have watched the rise and fall of my patients' chests on baby monitors to check if they are still breathing, because it is too dangerous for us to spend hours at bedside the way we normally would with a patient whose family cannot be present.
On the first day of quarantine, I sat with my husband and cried, trying to wrap my mind around knowing that our unit was the only one now allowing visitors, and that visitation would be severely restricted. Knowing that in many cases, I would be the last person to see my patients alive. Knowing that this part of my job had become simultaneously more important and more difficult.
I have talked with family members on the phone to describe how and why their loved one is dying, to tell them how much time is left. I have listened to them agonize over their decision to not come in for their loved one's final days because they or someone in their household is high risk for complications of the virus. I have the same conversation with them day after day, as they make this terrible decision day after day, until the very last moment.
I have led family members into rooms to see their dying mother, father, sister, brother, best friend, their loved one who was not dying the last time anyone from their family saw them before quarantine began. I watch them take turns with their family members to honor the visitor policy, and know that they will never sit in the same room all together as a family again.
I have sat in these rooms and held phones and tablets up to my dying patients so that their family members can talk to their now unresponsive bodies. So they can share memories of a life well lived and loved. So they can say I'm sorry. So they can say thank you. So they can say goodbye. I have sat there silently, sweating in my PPE, with tears running down my face, bearing witness to the absolute devastation that is this virus.
I have watched families come to terms with the fact that they will not be able to honor their loved one as they had always planned, yet another loss.
I have spent moments, hours, days so scared, so terrified for my own life and that of my family that I was left debilitated. Unable to move. Unable to stop crying. Unable to believe that my choices were to abandon my vocation or walk to my own death. It took weeks and weeks to recover from the trauma of watching the rules change every hour, every day on how we should protect ourselves as healthcare professionals. To realize how unprepared we were as a nation, as a healthcare community. How dispensable I felt. I am still recovering. I may never recover all the way. Every single nurse I know will have PTSD from this. Every single person working in healthcare. Millions of Americans. Millions of people.
And we watch as the use of masks has become a political weapon. We listen to you complain that you don't like the way it feels, or regurgitate some half-assed article about CO2 build-up, as we stare in the mirror at the indents and bruises that wearing two masks for thirteen hours straight have made on our faces. We listen to you repeat absolute fallacies in how this disease is being tested, reported, tracked, and listen to you quote scientifically inaccurate statistics about the efficacy of masks from some article you read on FB. We listen to you state that those with immunocompromised bodies, who have cancer or heart disease or COPD or diabetes, are not your problem. We listen to you boast that you will not be a sheep, that you are "awakened", that you will not participate in this violation of your personal freedom. We sit silently as you tell us that this is all part of some greater scheme to control our minds, bodies, countries. We listen to you tell us you respect our work, that you could never do what we're doing, and then continue railing against the very measures that keep us safe. And then we get up, go to work, and care for the people who are dying from COVID-19.
I tell you all this not because I want to hear anything you have to say in response. I do not want your justification or your rationale or for you to cite your sources. I no longer want to hear it.
I tell you this to try to reach you, to share my truth with you, in hopes that maybe one day one person will make one decision differently. I tell you this so you remember to be safe. Make smart choices. Wear a mask in public. Do not go places just because you can. Be purposeful in your decisions, in finding the balance between your mental and emotional needs and your safety. Touch only who you must.
Because in the end, it comes down to grief. It looks like blame, fear, anger, denial, depression, bargaining, acceptance. But its real name is Grief. We are all grieving. The entire world is grieving. We are never going back to the way it was. Even as our communities and activities and jobs resume, we as people are different forever. The sooner we acknowledge what we are dealing with, the easier it will be to connect with each other. I am grieving, too.
But I am not your ****ing hero."

This is incredibly difficult for me to read. Very poignant, heartfelt message, that sums up my feelings, perhaps better that I even could. Sadly, it makes me realize that the compartmentalization, I use to cope, will likely have to be dealt with at some point. You can hear how close to the edge this clinician is, you can read the pain. This is REAL, we live this each day, whether we are at work or not. We carry a personal responsibility anytime we are out of the house. The grief does not go away, especially when you have to get right back to it again, the next day.

I love the last line. I find it very difficult and embarrassing when people say that we are heroes. We don't want to be on a pedestal, it just makes it more difficult when we can't cope, when we are broken, when we need help. Thank you is the best you can do to any front line worker you meet.

Thank you Carly.


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