Anjana Phuyal, BSN, RN 

VA Boston Health Care System, Boston, MA

NOVA Chapter 226

My name is Anjana Phuyal, and I work at the VA Boston Healthcare System in West Roxbury as the Accreditation Specialist. Throughout my nursing career, I have worked on various inpatient and outpatient units as a staff nurse. Prior to joining the VA in 2017,  I did some travel nursing in Massachusetts.

Prior to March 2020 I was working in the outpatient PACU; however, the COVID-19 pandemic transformed health care priorities and in the last week of March 2020, I was detailed to an inpatient COVID unit for 12 weeks. It was a momentous event in my life both professionally and personally. The biggest adjustment to the new detail was providing care under the unfamiliar guise of COVID-19 while ensuring my own safety and the safety of my loved ones. I was not forthcoming about which unit I was working on to protect and prevent people from “freaking out.” With all of the uncertainties and fear came a sense of duty to the Veterans to whom I felt obliged. 

I wrote this reflection to remember that working on the COVID unit had a silver lining. In the midst of the unknown, I met with many instances of the known human element. I looked into my patients’ eyes and those of my fellow co-workers with a different intensity; their eyes told the story. I held my patients’ hands more intently; they so needed human touch. I spent more time with each patient as I was not sure if I would see them the next time I worked (some were really sick and passed away). We all worked as a team even more than before as there was no other option and survival was on the line. We also experienced the fear of diminishing PPE supplies which added to our angst. 

“Call my wife and tell her that I love her!” yelled Mr. X fighting the tears in his eyes yet smiling. I held his cold hands and said “I will, and you can too when I bring the iPad over. I can call her, and you can say that to her, okay?” He was my new admission to the COVID unit, a transfer from the Bedford VA. He was extremely hard of hearing, unable to help himself, had wounds on his buttocks and legs, was feverish and had trouble with his memory.

I went into the room to do my admission assessment with the doctor. Because the patient was hard of hearing, I had a hearing device with me, but the patient did not want to wear it. I attempted to tell him that it was a hearing device that would facilitate our conversation. I put it around his ear and held it. After introducing himself, the doctor started to ask, “How are you doing, sir?” The patient looked at the doctor and then looked at me and said, “Call my wife and tell her I love her!” The doctor and I smiled underneath our N-95 mask; the eyes gave away the smile. “Are you in pain, sir?” asked the doctor. “Call my wife and tell her I love her!” stressed the patient. “Are you breathing okay, sir?” I yelled through my N-95 mask and the face shield unsure if my muffled voice reached his ears. I leaned over and the patient started to cry and said, “Call my wife and tell her I love her!” The doctor and I decided that we would proceed with the interview later because the patient was upset. I stayed with the patient, held his hand, and listened to him as he talked about his wife. The patient did not care about his pain, his shortness of breath, or his wounds, but cared about what was most important to him... his wife and telling her, “I love you!” His biggest concern was that his wife knew he loved her. Love is powerful I thought, and  I am seeing  a living, breathing example. Love gets us through the worst of times! 

Mr. X is a fighter. He beat COVID last year and still comes to the hospital for treatments and procedures. I wonder if it is the love that he has for his wife that helped him to fight and survive. 

Essentially, I wrote this piece to remember how much stronger (physically and mentally), kinder and wiser I emerged from the COVID detail. I was also thankful that when the whole world had to shut down and many people were not allowed to leave their homes that I had a reason and purpose to leave mine.  It may have only made small differences in my patients’ lives but it has made a major one in my  life.

Thank you for this opportunity to share my story.