The Hallowian - Volume I 2021 - Flipbook - Page 18
Mount Sinai atrium, originally designed by
I. M. Pei, of the Louvre pyramids fame.
I clearly remember one of my final days
at work before our second daughter was
born. It was 12 March 2020, and I was
at Elmhurst Hospital Center in Queens,
New York City. I work there twice a week
as part of my role as Assistant Professor
at Mount Sinai Hospital, where I am
both a laryngologist and head and neck
microvascular surgeon.
That particular day we had our first
suspected COVID-19 case in the clinic
and the residents came to me, looking
for guidance. Their anxiety reflected the
mounting tension in both the city and its
hospitals since the first case had been
diagnosed on 1 March. By the end of
the day our fears had been realised. As
I left the hospital it resembled a scene
out of an apocalyptic zombie movie, with
hordes of unwell patients filing into the
hospital and languishing in the entryway
chairs. I was 37 weeks pregnant at the
time and I rang my husband, Reade de
Leacy, immediately and told him I did not
believe it was safe for me to return to
work. He had been saying that for weeks.
16
The Hallowian | 2021
I did go to work the following day at
Mount Sinai Hospital but, perhaps rather
fortuitously, I had our second child the
following week on 18 March, two weeks
early. I thought her early arrival was due
to anxiety, but my obstetrician thinks it
may have been because I had COVID-19,
due to a similar trend of patients she was
seeing. I will never know for certain, given
the lack of testing at that time, but I do
clearly recall having fatigue and extreme
shortness of breath, to the point of
feeling suffocated, the week prior. At the
time I attributed these symptoms to being
in my third trimester.
The day of Elodie’s birth was chaotic.
Everyone was extremely distracted by the
surge of patients arriving at the hospital
and rumours of the imminent city-wide
shutdown. Elodie and I were out of the
hospital in under 36 hours and back home
sheltering in place with my husband and
our older daughter, Delphine.
My husband, a neurointerventionalist
also at Mount Sinai Hospital, soon
“
“
Dr Diana Kirke
(Class of 1996)
As I left the hospital it
resembled a scene out of
an apocalyptic zombie
movie, with hordes of
unwell patients filing
into the hospital and
languishing in the
entryway chairs.
I felt torn as I talked to my colleagues,
who had very quickly pivoted to respond
to the new normal. I clearly appreciated
that I had a different role protecting our
newborn and oldest daughter (which
was certainly a challenge without any
help), but I felt a sense of survivor’s guilt
that I was not on the frontlines as I had
been trained to be. To help alleviate this
I did what I could remotely. I provided
counsel with my residents at Elmhurst
Hospital Center via weekly Zoom calls.
This hospital, which is in one of the most
ethnically diverse neighbourhoods in
New York City, had very quickly turned
into the epicentre of the epicentre.
This group of residents, some of whom
were interns, were now staffing their
own ICU. Like my husband, they looked
destroyed emotionally and physically. I
rarely cry but they had me in tears on a
weekly basis with the stories they shared
and the strength and teamwork they
demonstrated.
found himself treating more strokes than
usual due to increased COVID-19 related
thromboembolism, and was ‘redeployed’
to the frontline to look after COVID-19
patients in Neuro-ICU. Every day he
would return home, remove his clothes
at the front door, place them directly
into the washing machine and then jump
immediately into the shower. These are
practices we still partially adhere to.
After our daughters were asleep we would
have a daily debrief on the patients he
was treating and the new developments,
including the field hospital that was being
built in Central Park across from the
hospital and the new patient pods being
built in order to expand bed space in the
2021 | The Hallowian
17