The Most Uncertain Time of My Life

By Dr. Shadrina Tahil-Sarapuddin

Planning a journey

My journey out of the COVID pandemic has revamped my life and reset my priorities. It was a mixture of medical difficulties, physical challenges, mental stress, and intense emotional agitation. It was the most uncertain time of my life. Many of those who have fought in the frontlines must probably feel the same way.

Who would have thought that the world would be hit by another pandemic? Who would have thought that everyone, including the rich, would be forced to stay at home? Who would have thought that the air we breathe would be a threat to our health? These echoes in my thoughts somehow helped change my view of why the COVID pandemic happened.

Before the spread of coronavirus into the rest of the world, in December 2019, I was an excited mom planning for a long-due vacation outside the country with my four kids. Tickets and hotels were booked. The kids were counting the days and even started planning what to wear. Everything was going well, and we were just waiting for our trip on March 23, 2020, in time for my husband’s birthday.

Frustrated plans

When COVID-19 was finally declared as a pandemic on March 11, 2020, I knew our long-time dream of traveling abroad as a family was already far from possible. When I learned that one of the first two patients in the country died from COVID-19, I felt something was bound to get serious. The mixture of frustration at not being able to travel and the fear of what might happen next was the most unsettling feeling I had at that time. I consoled myself first and then talked to the kids, who understood the situation well.

In a province like Tawi-Tawi, where culture and traditions dominate, the battle against COVID was hardest at the outset because of the difficulty of making people believe it even existed. The locals believed it was a made-up enemy by a powerful country to conquer us. Many refused to wear a face mask until it was required by the police. COVID-19 was perceived by the old as divine intervention to cleanse the world. At the beginning, people did not seem to be affected by the news about COVID, until they saw a video of a newborn baby who allegedly spoke of a cure by eating a boiled egg. Supplies of eggs eventually ran out. It seemed absurd, but to the locals, it was a precaution they didn’t want to miss.

Giving back to my province

I have been working in my hometown province, in the same institution, for more than 14 years since I got my license at 24. It was my sworn commitment that I’d give back in service to my family and to the place where I grew up. So, after residency training, I went back home.

The provincial hospital has a 50-bed capacity but the bed occupancy rate sometimes reaches more than 130%. It has a well-built infrastructure, typical of a well-funded hospital in the provinces—a classic medical edifice in the GIDA area. However, it has suffered from a lack of doctors, medicine, and supplies, typical of an institution ruled by a personal bureaucracy based on political friendships, ties of kinship, and charisma.

Imagine your visionary and enthusiastic self in such a working environment. The feeling of unfulfilled dreams was incarcerating. The agony of going with the tide and throwing your own paddles in order to survive while doing what you love to do was burning.

The only internist

I was the only internist in the hospital at the time when the COVID pandemic hit. Another fellow internist was taking his specialty board in Manila and later arrived in the province. There were only 10 other doctors who actively handled patients for admission. Out of the 10, there was only one pediatrician and one obstetrician-gynecologist working.

We braved the ER and wards and stayed in the hospital 24/7, taking calls in the middle of the night and in constant fear of what might come next. The mystery of COVID-19 was ailing our minds and bodies. The lack of necessary supplies and improper administrative priorities were pushing us against a thorny wall. I kept losing my patients to infections that were mostly never confirmed.

At first, patients were strangers to us, but later, we were already getting patients that we personally knew. Many of us had to swallow insults from the families of those who died as a result of the dreaded disease. Several people in the community stigmatized the hospital as the main source of infection. This led to many patients seeking help in the late stages of their illness. We continue to struggle every single day with our duties in order to save lives. Our medical management was out of context because we had to settle on what was only available. There were patients who survived, perhaps from intense prayer and the team’s efforts to innovate.

As COVID evolved quickly, we were left way behind. We never caught up in terms of IPC protocols and testing accessibility, and worst of all, we did not have enough PPEs. We recycled disposable face masks by washing and ironing them. We even experienced using a half-cut empty six-liter water plastic bottle as a face shield. On social media, we begged for help: send us PPEs and alcohol. When the first well-designed, easy-to-wear face shields came out on everyone’s social media posts, we were envious. Thankfully, colleagues and friends from other places were quick to respond and share their limited supplies.

COVID kept us on our toes every day, and its mysterious course gripped us in our throats until we succumbed to one of its strains. There were twelve of us doctors who cried for help in writing and relayed our predicament to the ones in higher positions. Sadly, I was blamed for power-grabbing and plotting a coup to unseat the one in position. I faced allegations and slander for simply raising my voice to protect ourselves and the patients we handled. Our cries were heard but were brushed under the rug. The people who were supposed to listen to our pleas only listened to a sweet talker who was even partly responsible for some difficulties we faced. We were valued less.

Testing positive

On September 25, 2020, six of our doctors tested positive for COVID, and after a few days, more than 80 of the staff were also confirmed infected. The staff were improperly quarantined: ten people in a room, or six in a foldable tent with a shared bathroom. It was more than a week after swabbing before the results arrived, and the rest had already been exposed. The hospital closed. News came out that we were defeated by COVID.

We continued to stay in the hospital during our recovery. I was staying with my husband and my sister (who also tested positive for COVID) in the smallest room in the outpatient department of the hospital. I had a fever, sore throat, and asthma attack. My colleague, another internist, was also confirmed positive, so we had to manage on our own. There was no one and nowhere else to run to for safety.

COVID-19 has disrupted our lives, as it has done for millions of others around the country and the world. Yes, no one must be singled out as responsible for the spread of the virus and the death of anyone. But if only each of us had set aside our greed and hunger for popularity, some of us would have lived less miserable lives. However, the misery awakened my sense of seeking the right place for me. It made me long for a workplace where I could be of value and significance, a place where leaders would listen and take action.

Revisiting my life

As days passed, I thought, “What if I died from the infection?” That possibility frightened me for quite some time. This made me revisit my life and reconsider my priorities as a mother and a doctor.

My prayers and longings were answered when I got a call from one of my mentors in medical school. Without hesitation, I requested a transfer of service and agreed to a voluntary demotion to a lower position. I did not care about the demotion because what mattered to me was the value of the offer, the opportunity to work in a better environment, and the thought of  being valued for my potential.

Lessons learned

COVID hit me hard. I got infected and was accused of staging a coup for power-grabbing. It has been hard on all of us, and getting used to a new way of living does come with its challenges.

But we need to look at the positive effects that COVID has brought to our lives. We have learned to appreciate the clean air after periods of lockdown, the moments we have spent at home with our family playing games, and the peals of laughter over meals with colleagues. Those are the treasured moments.

We may not know the definite source of COVID, but why would that matter now? After all, this world was created to test us in so many ways. After what I have been through, I have learned to love life even more. I learned to appreciate the value of even the smallest things in life. The air that we breathe every single day and simply being able to have a sense of smell should be enough to keep us going. The distance and the time lost with our family and friends should bring us closer to those who are significant to our existence.

As we breathe the air of COVID endemicity, let us not forget that we are survivors who will have to continue to survive life’s challenges. We live in a world where there are constant threats. Why worry when life is never certain and only those who are meant to stay can stay? I do not despise the unwanted things that have happened in my life during the pandemic. I am still blessed because no one in my family died of COVID. Despite the difficulties of working in a rotten system, I was not corrupted. Instead, I have learned to trust the plans of the Greater One. It has not been an easy feat to emerge stronger as a better individual.

As I write this article, I recall the hard times at the height of the pandemic. I realize now that I was not a hero but a source of hope and comfort to those who needed me. I was among the proud who had the courage to speak the truth and leave the life I built with hard work to seek my worth. I emerged from the pandemic fulfilled by the outcome of my struggles. I may have learned some lessons the hard way, but I found a bigger piece to solve the puzzle of life.

Dr. Shadrina Tahil- Sarapuddin, MPH, FPCP, is a 40-year-old mother of four. She is a Medical Specialist IV, the Head of the Public Health Unit, Public Affairs and Customer Care Unit, and Office for Institutional Strategy and Excellence (OSM), Zamboanga City Medical Center.

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