, an emergency alert usually reserved for mass casualties. In the face of rising Covid cases, the announcement aims to ease the burden on health services by streamlining systems and redeploying staff to serve the most critical patients.When the code takes effect, I am in clinic, doing what I have done for the last 20 years – seeing cancer patients. The past two years have been a nervous time, but some things have stayed the same.
But with an enduring pandemic now underlined with a code brown, the mood has changed. Physical exhaustion is remediable with rest but moral distress clings to you.I receive an email “just letting you know” that a chemotherapy patient is still awaiting an urgent appointment. The details of one high-risk patient blur with another, my heart falters. In quick succession, my anxiety switches from the patient and the relatives to my duty of care and the nurse who needs my help to do her job safely.
A code brown entails moving staff at short notice. Taking a cue from another oncologist, I try preparing one of my oldest patients. Some years ago, I told her she had months to live. Then she responded to a new drug but is convinced that I personally vanquished her disease.“I will empty my bank account to see you,” pleads her husband.I am hiding nothing – indeed, our dilemma is in plain sight. We see patients not knowing when we might get sick, furloughed or redeployed. Overnight, we discover that a ward has been closed or a theatre list cancelled.
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