This COVID thing fascinates me on so many levels. As a surgeon…how the virus affects my patients and how we safely operate on those infected; as a researcher…how we study and learn about the disease; as a wife and mother… how I am protecting my family; and as a leader…how my team, my work community, is impacted physically, emotionally, financially, mentally.

I have received dozens of texts, calls, emails, and social media messages asking, “How are you?” “Are you safe?” “How busy are you?” “Thinking of you!” And I am grateful for every. single. message. Y’all are my hope and strength. But I feel I have to come clean. I am not on the Front Line. I am not the one donning and doffing (yes, it’s a real word) the PPE, again and again, and again during a shift. I am not the one spinning the dials on the ventilators for COVID patients all day and night. That honor belongs to my Pulmonary/Critical Care, Emergency Medicine, Internal Medicine, and Respiratory Therapist colleagues. I am humbled by their expertise and dedication.

You see, I am on the Second Line. The Second Line is a group of party-goers who march behind the wedding party. We aren’t the guests of honor. But we are just behind them. We march in the parade in support, in solidarity. We are in the wake and ready for the ripples.

On the Second Line, we are taking care of all of the non-COVID patients who are suffering from trauma and emergency general surgery issues. These are the patients who are also alone, because of the (justified) no visitation policy. These are the patients who have anxiety because we all walk into the room in masks, per hospital policy these days. These are the patients who didn’t want to come to the hospital because they worry it’s a petri dish of COVID–a not unfounded worry. And this is the space I work in.

It’s a space where we are doing much of the same work we have always done…meeting trauma patients in the ED, but now, we all don N95 masks…cause you never know. It’s a space where we are spending our days doing the same clinical care and joining two or three Zoom meetings every day…to keep up on the latest data, guidelines, protocols, suggestions, ideas, musings…

Y’all…we are tired. We are emotionally tired. We are worried. We see the collateral effects of COVID…the way we are so laser-focused on the virus that our vision for all else is cloudy. We are distracted and anxious; we are “working from home” (whatever that means) when we aren’t on call; we are trying and doing whatever it takes…wherever we are asked…it’s disorienting. But…

We trained for this.

As a runner…I hold onto mantras. My favorite marathon starting line mantra: Trust Your Training. As a runner, I train for months for a marathon. I follow the plan. Run as prescribed by the training schedule, rain, or shine. As surgeons, we trained for 5-7 years, 80hrs (wink, wink) per week. We took care of every patient who showed up in the clinic, the ED, the trauma bay. That’s what we do. We operated post-call. We stayed up all night. We carried three pagers. Cause that’s what we do.

We were built for this.

And you know what…emotionally, mentally, spiritually…I was built for this, too.

In Acts 22, Paul defends himself before the crowd. He talks about his Jewish heritage, his Roman citizenship, and his elite Greek education. He was built for this. He was ready.

I trained for this. This is stupid hard. But I trained for this. I am ready. I am standing in the Second Line. And I am ready for what comes. I am doing my regular job the best that I can, and supporting the First Line in all the ways that I know how. Cheering. Marching. Celebrating. Crying. Laughing. I am on the Second Line…because I am built for this.

Disclaimer: My viewpoints are not necessarily reflective of my employer, or any local, regional or national organization that I belong to. As a matter of fact, I pretty much just speak for myself. Please keep that in mind.