Having empathy in the time of COVID | Guest Viewpoint

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I think most readers will agree that America is suffering from a severe shortage of empathy right now. 

I write these words as 42 percent of Americans in each political party view the opposing side as “downright evil,” and around one in four Americans believe there is at least some truth to the theory that powerful people planned the novel coronavirus pandemic. 

I say that we are suffering, because we are a socially connected species, and to live without empathy is to feel disconnected, adrift from our fellow human beings. This is especially true for healthcare workers, of which I am one. And our empathy is eroding at an alarming rate. 

Empathy is the foundation upon which healthcare workers must have a firm footing to be able to provide high quality, patient-focused care for 12-hour shifts day in and day out for months, years, and decades. Empathy is the “secret sauce” that causes us to be curious about what our patients are experiencing, motivates us to spend the extra time to ask the right questions, and fuels us to put in the long hours to make sure that you receive the best, most appropriate medical care for your unique situation. Providing excellent care is what in turn boosts our professional self-esteem, and helps us believe that we are good at what we do; that we’re making a positive difference in the lives of our patients. 

Anger is corrosive to our sense of empathy, and we can all see plenty of anger flying around the mediasphere these days. 

Last week I admitted a patient to my local hospital with severe COVID-19 viral pneumonia, and he told me that he was at a party last week and didn’t believe that coronavirus was as big a problem as public health professionals have been saying. 

When I hear these stories firsthand, I find it very difficult to resist feelings of anger welling up inside of me. 

Not anger at my patients, but anger at the reality that we live in a time when political leaders feel they are qualified to refute the professional opinions of career health professionals, undermine faith in nonpartisan officials with decades of experience on these exact issues, and to recommend debunked treatments over the objections of doctors.  

I find it difficult to accept the fact that I will not see my family this holiday season, but that my sacrifice will likely be negated by millions of my fellow Americans ignoring public health advice and continuing to engage in behavior that will infect more people. 

It is hard not to wonder if those in my community who believe this virus is “just like the flu” believe that I am a liar, and would say so to my face. Is there really such a lack of trust and respect for the doctors and nurses fighting every day to manage the overflowing hospitals, holding the hands of people gasping for air? 

You could substitute the word love for empathy if you wish, and fear for anger. After all, love and fear are the most powerful emotional drivers of behavior, and from which all other emotions are derived. And I understand the anger on both sides of the “personal liberties vs public health and safety” divide. It is a natural response to feel angry if you perceive that somebody (the government) is stripping you of your inalienable rights. 

I get it. We are all scared. But I plead with you to reframe the national crisis we face, and respond with love rather than fear. 

You can show your love for your country and your fellow citizens by taking simple, temporary steps which will slow the spread of this virus. You can show frontline healthcare workers the break we all need to take care of our sickest and most vulnerable members of society. 

We cannot do this safely if hospitals are over capacity, and the downstream effects of people missing out on necessary medical care for reasons unrelated to COVID are impossible to predict, but they will be dire. 

You can show your family love this holiday season by sheltering them from a deadly disease, and celebrate tradition in a creative, novel way. 

Here in Wisconsin the virus is raging out of control, we are approaching a breaking point in the hospitals all over the state. Take it from me, you do not want the situation to get this bad in Washington state. 

We can get through this together, but if we do not start sacrificing now, we are facing a dark, long winter with much avoidable misery and death. Your nation and its healthcare providers need some love right now, and we thank you for it. 

(Dr. Jesse Maupin is a clinical assistant professor in the Department of Medicine at the University of Wisconsin School of Medicine and Public Health. Maupin grew up in Port Townsend and graduated from Port Townsend High School, and is now a hospital medicine physician working in Madison, Wisconsin.)