It was around 5pm on March 17, 2020. The nursing administrator was on the other side of the phone: “Dr Abraham, we may have a patient in the clinic with possible exposure to Covid-19.” I was impressed by the calmness in her voice. Not yet spring, it was still cold outside and snow was melting on the ground.
The first case of Covid-19 was reported in the US on January 20 in Washington State, from a man who had been to China. The first case in New York was reported on March 1 from a person who had been to Europe. Ohio (where I work and live) had its first cases only eight days prior to it, in a couple who had been on a Nile River cruise.
When the first case of Covid-19 was reported from Wuhan in December 2019, I was curious. I had started training in the US in 1994, when the world was learning more about the AIDS epidemic. When Wuhan started getting overwhelmed by the novel coronavirus (SARS-CoV-2), all of us knew it could be bad. When I began getting emails and tweets from friends in Italy, the anxiety grew. On January 31, Italy banned all flights from China and went into lockdown on March 8.
On March 17, even though most of the patients were done for the day, our cancer centre’s third floor clinic area was buzzing with activity. I could see anxious family members in winter jackets pacing the hallway.
My oncology colleague, who had been taking care of the patient with potential Covid-19 exposure, was waiting for me. His glasses were fogged through his mask and I could not see his eyes.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der November 29, 2020-Ausgabe von THE WEEK.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der November 29, 2020-Ausgabe von THE WEEK.
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