The Double-Edged Sword of Safety: COVID-19’s Changing Visitation Policies in Hospitals
The silence was worse than anything. Worse than the stale, sterile odor that leaked through the halls. Worse than waking up alone beneath scratchy coverings. Worse than not having a hand to hold.
To Evelyn Roberts, a preoperative nurse in Atlanta, Ga., it was the silence in the rooms that made it all seem post-apocalyptic despite the exhausted nurses and overworked doctors bustling around.
In 2020, many healthcare facilities in the United States imposed restrictions on visitors to reduce the spread of COVID-19. Suddenly, people admitted for care weren’t allowed to see anyone. A mother in labor was separated from her partner before giving birth. Surgery patients went through pre-operation and recovery with only the drone of fluorescent lights as company.
It was lonely for patients.
For staff, it was a double-edged sword — on one hand, they could focus more on their jobs and care without the distraction of worried family members. On the other, they had to witness patients suffering with only themselves as support.
But just as healthcare workers settled into the new normal of these policies, the world began to relax again.
Recently, states like California allowed their facilities to reopen their doors for loved ones of patients, and other states seem to be ready to follow suit.
Roberts expressed relief over the matter. She spent much of her time preparing patients for surgeries and going over proper recovery care with families, whom pre-op nurses often rely on to remember for the patients.
“All of a sudden, there’s just no one,” Roberts said. “We’ve been giving instructions over the phone.”
With visitation restricted, pre-op nurses had to step up to help calm the nerves of patients as they were alone waiting for operations.
“It’s taken a huge toll,” Roberts explained. “I have patients use my phone, call their families, whatever I can do to bridge that gap between the common human decency of having someone there when you need them and what seems kind of barbaric.”
Seeing a face on a pixeled screen doesn’t compare to the solid presence of a body waiting beside your bed. Having a visitor is a physical representation of, I’m here for you.
The nerves of the patients Roberts cared for were already frayed with family members promising to be there when they wake up.
Restrictions left a gaping hole in that process.
For healthcare workers whose jobs revolve around caring for patients in their most vulnerable states, before and after operations, that weight has been lifted as restrictions pull back.
Others in the medical field have different thoughts.
“Having no visitors was bittersweet,” said Noah Harris, a nurse in Austin, Texas. “Many people were thankful for the [restrictions].”
In his experience, interacting with families all day before the pandemic frequently interfered with his and his coworkers’ abilities to do their jobs. Families often don’t know much about medicine, which Harris never minded because he enjoyed walking them through bits and pieces of education.
But they caused issues, too. Plenty were rude, acting as if they were the only family with a patient under hospital care.
It’s understandable for them to be worried — health is delicate, as fragile as it is fascinating. But as Harris explained, “When a family member disagrees with the patient’s care plan with no real understanding of medicine, this would be a huge burden.”
It took away Harris’ focus. But with the eerie lack of healthy people roaming hospital halls, he got a break from that duty.
Similarly, to a surgeon like Liam King, visitation restrictions allowed his surgical unit to focus more on taking care rather than providing an in-person service to families.
He called that service, “Hotel hospital.”
During the pandemic, instead of going room to room giving details to families on how his operations went on their loved ones, he made phone calls since said families weren’t allowed inside.
He preferred that to the verbal smothering some families would give him in person, freaking themselves out over details they looked up on the Internet.
“Half of their info comes from WebMD,” said King.
More often than not, they’re worried over nothing, and it’s anxiety-inducing to have so many people to please on top of people to heal.
Despite the despair of the last year, King found the good in the restriction policies, stating, “COVID-19 gave us all the chance to step back.”
While the pandemic continues to scorch itself into history, what lies ahead is unknown. It will be hard to recover from the echoing silence COVID-19 introduced to healthcare facilities.
What we do know is this: healthcare workers agree that things will never be the same again.
