President's Message by J. Bianca Roberts, MD
My immediate family experienced so much loss during the pandemic. We watched my aunt navigate a new metastatic cancer diagnosis during a time in which extended family could not be present during hospital stays. Within weeks she passed away.
Then, my brother-in-love (in my family, using the title of “in-law” is insulting when addressing a relative of a partner) had a sudden cardiac arrest. Despite our hopes that the resuscitation efforts would be successful, he did not recover. Next, my slobbery, 100-pound Staffordshire — who looked more like a bear but was forever my puppy — became ill and died in my arms. And finally, my own brother was not vaccinated when he contracted COVID-19 and did not survive. Despite my best efforts to educate him on the safety of COVID vaccinations, he was still very afraid.
No, he did not have any comorbidities. Yes, he was young — we would have celebrated his 40th birthday this year. He leaves behind his beautiful wife and children and our lives are forever changed.
When I share what my family has endured, some people comment on how much strength my family continues to show. They think it is amazing that we are still finding a way to do things that bring us joy.
But, our process of moving through the stages of grief hasn’t been as easy as it seems. It has been more like having our house being picked up in a tornado and ripped away to an unknown land with no map to tell us how to get back home.
Not only are millions of families grieving from COVID-related deaths, their doctors are also grieving.
On many occasions, we’ve found ourselves lost in anger. I’ve felt angry about the misinformation in the media that put fear in my brother’s heart. I’ve been angry about medicine’s ugly history and continued acts of racism that lead to distrust and possibly contributed to the delayed diagnosis for my aunt. And, I’ve been angry about not being able to gather at each of my family members’ bedsides to pray, read scriptures, and sing spirituals to provide comfort and hope at the end of their lives.
We have been angry about our losses, but my family wasn’t the only family to experience tremendous loss. Globally, as of November 28, 2022, there have been 6,608,893 confirmed deaths related to COVID. Millions and millions of families have been grieving.
Their doctors are also grieving. Like my brother-in-love’s team, who also experienced loss and despair during his ICU stay, physicians have experienced the loss of so many patients. We’ve been up all night, running tests, consulting every resource, repeating exams, running codes, updating families, and delivering bad news.
Physicians have also been grieving the loss of respect for our profession as we’ve been villianized in the media. We see the political push to expand independent practice to clinicians who have not had our years of training rather than increasing opportunities for unmatched medical school graduates. We are grieving for the unmet patient expectations, for all of the paperwork, prior authorizations, coverage denial appeals, EMR charting, EMR clicks, and excessive calls and email messages, while we balance staff shortages, nursing strikes, and Yelp reviews. We are grieving the lack of resources to address mental health during a time where the need is so great. We are grieving the unmet needs of our small and independent practices, sometimes leading to practice closure or early retirement. We are grieving the missed family time and the stress of balancing work with care for our own children, family members with special needs, or our aging parents.
Physicians who are focused on equity are also grieving the continued use of race-based calculators (like the eGFR, PFTs, VBAC calculators), the lack of awareness regarding social and political determinants of health impacting patient outcomes (e.g., redlining, access to clean water, parks, sidewalks, fresh produce, quality of primary and secondary school education), the lack of inclusivity in our practices and health systems for LGBTQ+ patients, staff and physicians, for patients speaking languages other than English, and our patients with mixed abilities and disabilities.
How is it that we continue to give our all to our communities despite all that we have endured? Many of us wake up each day knowing that we can make a difference in the lives of our patients. In the simplest terms, we know that we chose medicine because we wanted to help people. We know that through the darkness of grief, there are flickers of joy and hope when we experience that very special doctor-patient moment. We are able to hold these moments close to our hearts. It is that beautiful moment where our expertise is met with trust and sometimes gratitude for the impact we’ve made.
Through the grief our physicians have been processing, SSVMS has a renewed purpose in advocating for the practice of medicine. I am so honored to serve as your SSVMS president this year. My desire to help others is grounded on a foundation of equity and wellness. With a strong and dedicated team of leaders and staff, we will continue to be a strong voice for medicine.
