I saw things in those ICUs that simply were beyond my capacity to fully understand. By late April in 2020, I came to realize that Rats were in the place. It was a load of BS, but I had no clout, and everyone was still afraid. We were after our 12 hours shifts trying to get away in our cars but the Garage required us to remain 6 feet apart and wear those useless masks. It was all insanity, and we all knew it, and nobody spoke up. Not even me.
The things that I have witnessed.
The most intelligent persons whom I have ever encountered, I worked with.
They never spoke up.
I am so frustrated and angry. I did not know what to do. I figgered it out. I quit. I had other cause for my leaving, but it seems from here that I simply could only handle so much BS in my life.
Meanwhile, they were mindlessly harming Patients with the misuse of mechanical ventilation and absurd tweaking of the Ventilator settings. I simply could not abide. I took a hike from that business.
I am afraid to tell my stories. I recognize the danger involved. Well, not exactly afraid, but I am cognitive of the futility of crying out in the wilderness. I am after all, nobody. I would not at all be surprised if the opposite of a 911 call were to show at my door at any moment. It is all right. I am not afraid.
No one wants to be first to jump into the meat grinder.
What you have to ask yourself, though, is what you will do when Paul Revere rides past your house.