During the COVID-19 pandemic, most patients in my hospital were not able to receive visitors. For many, that meant long stretches of time without family and friends to lift their spirits. Many of our patients felt lonely and alone. I saw that in one of my patients, who was in the hospital for three months due to uncontrolled seizures.
During the first few weeks of her stay, she would sit in her recliner and watch the sun rise as she ate breakfast. She always greeted me with a bright and infectious smile, and I would respond with one of my cheesy jokes. But about a month later, her mood shifted, and I saw a gradual darkening of her spirits and demeanor.
In the days following, when I entered her room she was no longer sitting up. Instead, she was lying in bed facing away from the window. Instead of smiling, she wanted to know when she could go home. I had to tell her she couldn’t be discharged until we could secure a spot at a rehabilitation facility, which as the pandemic dragged on, was increasingly difficult. The weeks of being in the hospital with limited contact with friends and family were taking their toll. Even my corny jokes couldn’t lift her spirits. My heart sank.
Then one day, I ran into a patient clinical assistant who had just been assigned to help take care of my patient. Later, during my afternoon rounds, the clinical assistant suggested I stop by this patient’s room first. Thinking something was wrong and fearing the worst, I tore down the hall. But what I saw was no emergency. My patient was once again sitting in her recliner facing the sun. Her meal tray was scattered with board games and colorful nail polish. The clinical assistant had applied glittery purple polish to my patient’s toes. Once again, the room was filled with laughter.
Over the next few days, the three of us chatted about nail colors and laughed and groaned at my jokes. The extra attention from the clinical assistant alleviated my patient’s despair and boosted her morale, sustaining her until she was discharged two weeks later.
COVID-19 was a time of loneliness and despair for many of our patients, but it also highlighted the power of human connection. All it took was a little purple nail polish and some TLC.
Dr. Eseosa Ighodaro is a neurologist, neuroscientist, and health disparities researcher at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN. Check out more of her blogs at dreseosaighodaro.com.
