Acknowledging The Trauma

Earlier this week, I received a text message that we've become all too accustomed to: someone had tested positive for COVID.? This one was particularly concerning because it was my brother-in-law, who's being treated for cancer and was scheduled for chemo the day he tested positive. The clinical picture wasn't great - marginal O2 saturation, fever, shortness of breath, cough - but not terrible. Since we live 2,300 miles apart, I spent the next couple of days checking in with my sister, sharing advice, and reassuring her that being vaccinated greatly reduced his risk.

Yesterday, a new message from my sister: "Well, I just tested positive... waiting to hear back from my PCP about Paxlovid... I'll keep you posted." I replied with the only thing I could think of - a grimace emoji. After eight hours of hearing nothing, I followed up with a message that I can now acknowledge made it all about me: "Hi, I'm feeling so helpless, I wish I were nearby so I could check in." But, it was a very measured message considering what was going on in my head:

I'm in a spiral! I've convinced myself that you're both completely incapacitated, too weak, feverish and disoriented to operate your phone. I'm probably the only one who knows what's going on and I'm 2,300 miles way! Oh. My. God.

If you're thinking my reaction was irrational, disproportionate given the facts of the situation, you would be right. Even more so because in my family, "I'll keep you posted" means "you'll hear from me on your next birthday", we just really suck at the "keeping you posted" thing.? So yes, my reaction was over the top.? It was also a clear indication that I, like most Americans, remain deeply affected by the trauma of living through the COVID-19 pandemic.

I admit that I was particularly vulnerable this week, thanks in part to New York representative Elise Stefanik. Hear me out. Last week, during a Super Tuesday speech, Stefanik said “Are you better off today than you were four years ago? The answer for hard-working Americans around the country is a resounding no."? Frankly, I was repulsed by Stefanik's tone-deaf attempt to rewrite history and manipulate traumatized Americans who, understandably, have repressed many of their worst memories of 2020.? When I heard those words, I decided it was time for all of us to remember, starting with me.

I remember empty grocery shelves, disinfecting my groceries, people who'd lost their jobs lining up for food.? I remember spending entire days going from store to store looking for toilet paper, flour, rice, masks, disinfectant, and sanitizer.? I remember being on CDC conference calls and wondering why the government response was so slow and limited given the the clear threat of COVID-19 they were describing. I remember hospitals stacking bodies in refrigerated trucks and healthcare workers taking their own lives. I remember a President spreading dangerous disinformation while life expectancy for Hispanic and Black Americans dropped by three years.? I remember feeling overwhelmed, scared and helpless.

It wasn't easy to dredge up those memories, and that act alone won't make it better.? But acknowledging that the trauma was real and the effects lasting is an important step. Arthur C. Evans Jr., PhD, Chief Executive Officer of the American Psychological Association summarizes it well:

“We cannot ignore the fact that we have been significantly changed by the loss of more than one million Americans, as well as the shift in our workplaces, school systems, and culture at large. To move toward posttraumatic growth, we must first identify and understand the psychological wounds that remain.”

I encourage you to take some time to acknowledge your own trauma, reflect on your experiences, and share this with those you care about so they know it's okay if you aren't okay.