By: Colleen M. Fitzpatrick

A man in his mid-30s looked me in the eyes while gasping for breath and said, “I trust you.”  In the minutes that followed, our team inserted a breathing tube into his trachea, connected it to a ventilator and supported his failing lungs.  We believed this patient would be one of our survivors.

We were wrong.

We were a team of hospital healthcare workers during the initial peak of the Covid-19 pandemic in New York City, struggling to keep up with rising patient numbers.  Many on the team, myself included, were stepping out of our usual roles within the hospital, working with people we had never met, to address the crushing need.  I was an out-of-state pediatric surgeon, relying on the ICU experience from my general surgery training to get me through.  Caring for adult patients on ventilators was not part of my usual practice.

Side-by-side, we attended to patients at a frenetic pace amid the cacophony of ventilators, alarming monitors, and ringing telephones, each a potential harbinger of tragedy.  Tight-fitting masks and protective gear were all that protected us from the deadly virus permeating the air; vaccines had not yet been developed and effective treatments remained elusive.  

Profound loss and grief were ever-present.  Yet, despite the overwhelming emotional and physical fatigue, I witnessed some of the best humanity has to offer: personal sacrifice given with generosity and a desire to care for one another.  It was as if an unwritten compact held us together.

It gave me cause for hope.  Perhaps this tragedy could be a positive inflection point in American history; a time of renewed commitment to “[promoting] the general welfare and [securing] the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity.”  Here was a unique opportunity to carry forward the commitment, care, and compassion we experienced.  It could be our moment to tackle the devastating issues disproportionately affecting some Americans, which, if addressed, would benefit all Americans; problems like racial injustice, food insecurity, access to healthcare and education, gender inequality, and climate change.  Maybe we would emerge from the pandemic with new strength and resolve; we could ‘build back better'.

Again, I was wrong.

Some 18 months later, we are still arguing about wearing masks and getting vaccinated.  Our children’s ability to attend school is threatened by preventable disease outbreaks. New and deadlier variants of the disease have emerged. Businesses continue to suffer and people remain homebound for fear of the disease.  Hospitals are overwhelmed and people continue to needlessly die.

Our country has a rich tradition of personal sacrifice and human ingenuity.  The Covid-19 pandemic was an opportunity for the United States to be truly exceptional, but instead, ithas been truly embarrassing as the US leads the world in Covid-19 cases and deaths.

False Covid-19 narratives have undermined the medical community and have fostered the belief that mask and vaccine mandates are an infringement on personal rights.  But is wearing a mask such an egregious affront to liberty?  Our liberties have been protected by brave men and women who have died in defense of our Constitution.  As an Air Force veteran, I wonder how we can continue to ask for their service when we are unwilling to accommodate simple inconveniences at home; inconveniences that protect not only ourselves, but those around us.  Rather than fighting mandates and each other, we should be fighting the false narratives which undermine our democracy and our self-determination.

It is scary to think about the future of our country when the integrity of our society is so tenuous.  It would be naïve to expect Americans to agree on everything; in fact, it would be somewhat un-American to do so.  Yet, there needs to be fact-based, civil discourse as we recognize our individuality, and a willingness to compromise as we face challenges.  We owe this to those who have died from Covid and we owe it to their families.  We owe it to the child whose father was terrified to go on a ventilator and never lived to see her birth.

Covid is here today and is killing people today.  Finding common purpose in addressing a real and present threat should not be this hard.  In a world of increasing complexity, future generations will face greater and greater challenges.  How will our children respond to issues in the future?  

I am afraid we have squandered a chance to teach caring and compassion in lieu of division and discord. I hope I am wrong.