One year in pandemic, essential workers long for normalcy

LORAIN — Every week of the pandemic, Rosie Salisbury showed up to work and cleaned, trying to ward off a mostly unknown virus. She works at Constellation Schools: Lorain Community Elementary as a cleaner. She's used to disinfecting, but never to the extent that she's experienced during the pandemic. "There were times that I thought 'What if this is the new normal?' I'm the one cleaning the bathrooms after everybody's in there. I'm the one cleaning everything that everybody touched," Salisbury said. "Do they really know enough about this virus to guarantee me that I'm not going to get sick? Because no matter how protected you are, there's a part of you that worries about that." For Salisbury, the shutdown happened suddenly. One day the teachers and students were there and the next day they weren't. "It just seemed like overnight, this happened and I never saw them again," she said. "There was no warning." What was once a building full of kids was empty. Initially, Salisbury said she and everyone else busied themselves with making sure students were prepared for home learning. They handed out supplies, laptops and food. In the beginning, it was overwhelming, Salisbury said. But when that was over, and when even the administrators had gone home, Salisbury was still cleaning a mostly empty building. "I don't know how to explain it other than there was a loneliness in the building," Salisbury said. "You're used to having a full building and all of the sudden there's nothing." She said Constellation responded quickly, limiting how many people would be in the building at once and making sure everyone had the appropriate PPE. No one really came near each other. She said the school treated her like she was just as important as the students and the teachers. Salisbury is 61. By her age alone, she's at a higher risk during the pandemic. During the past year, she had days where she wondered if she could keep going. She asked herself at the time what she was still doing working even though so many others were being laid off. "The isolation of it all, even being in that building when no one was there or just a few people there. … When you're in a school building, there's students running around, there's kindergartners running around. There's noise. Without that, it does something to you. To be honest, there were times when I wondered why I stayed. It was just odd." Salisbury was one of millions of essential workers across the country. They showed up to work while a relatively unknown virus sent many to their homes. Jennifer Rauscher works in the medical ICU at the Metro Health Medical Center in Cleveland. She's worked in the ICU for a little over 10 years. She works in a pulmonary unit, which is essentially all critical care and more complex medical problems. Rauscher said the pandemic has been an emotional roller coaster. She started off not knowing what to expect. Was she going to be safe? Was she going to take this home? She has faced some of the worst COVID-19 cases. "There's been no rhyme or reason," she said. "People who we think are turning a corner have then died." The ICU has had no true open visitation, and Rauscher is all too familiar with holding a camera up so family members can see their loved one over Zoom. Even when people are dying, the hospital can't let family members in. "I've seen a lot of loss," Rauscher said. "It's not new to me to take care of people who are dying. But with this situation, we've taken care of other essential workers who have contracted it just from being at work." She's cried more this past year then she probably ever has in her career, Rauscher said. There are days that are really bad, like when someone she's taken care of has died. She and her co-workers have bonded even more in the past year, helping each other through the stress and the sadness. "I've never wanted to give up; I've never wanted to not be a nurse," Rauscher said. "I've worked harder this past year than I ever have as a nurse. We've had a lot of families that have been so grateful and thankful." Everyday, Rauscher said she's walked into working knowing she's taking care of the sickest patient. But she also knows she is putting herself at risk. She has two little children at home. She has her parents. "I need to live and I need to work, but I also don't want to get anyone else sick," she said. Everything around her has become COVID — her job, her life outside work, even the TV shows she watches. Rauscher herself got COVID in December. Her first thought was becoming one of the statistics. But she and her family were OK throughout it. Now, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. As a health care worker, Rauscher was able to get vaccinated for the virus. "Things are starting to look a little better," she said. "We were able to get the vaccines when they were available. I think everybody was a little bit emotional getting our vaccines and hoping there is an end and some normalcy can return." Rauscher is not the only medical professional who has faced a tough and busy year. Marissa Cook works at Cleveland Clinic. When the virus hit, she had just found out she was pregnant with her first child. Everyone was learning about COVID-19, and no one really knew how it would impact pregnant women. But as a medical assistant, Cook had to keep showing up. "That was nerve wracking," she said. "It was my first pregnancy. It took me forever to get pregnant. Do I put myself at risk and not know? Or do I keep my job? It was like a double-edged sword no matter what I chose." She found herself at risk of getting COVID several times throughout the year. On multiple occasions, a patient wouldn't disclose they had COVID-19 symptoms until they were in the doctor's room. And, as a medical assistant, Cook is often the first person patients see in the doctor's room. She asks them questions and takes their vitals. If a patient didn't disclose COVID symptoms, that put Cook even more at risk. She said it made her even more nervous to be at work. Cook has since had her baby — a boy — and he was healthy. But now that he's born, Cook said she's still nervous because she doesn't want to bring the virus back to him. She was nervous about getting vaccinated, but she did get the first one. However, when it came time for her second shot, Cook had a fever and wasn't able to get it. Now, she's waiting for her age group to open up. But she's ready to get back to normal. Jerome Perkins is a nurse at Brookdale in Westlake, but he grew up in Elyria. He takes care of acute care patients that come out of surgery. One year ago, he was preparing mentally for COVID-19 to hit, but he didn't know it would be this bad. "At first I knew I was going to have a job and a lot of people were out of a job. I was grateful to be in the healthcare field," Perkins said. "But I didn't know if today would be the day that I would have COVID." Like Rauscher, Perkins saw some of his patients die throughout the year, which took a mental and emotional toll on him. Most of his patients are immunocompromised. Perkins recalled one in particular who had a difficult transition to Brookdale. He held her hand as she was dying. "It broke my heart," he said. He took a few mental days off. Perkins said it was easy to think that this was the new normal. Perkins isolated himself from his family to protect them from getting the virus. He caught it in August, but it was minor for him. Things are calming down now that more people are getting vaccinated. Perkins said his workplace was one of the first facilities in Ohio to receive the vaccine. "It's just so great to not have active cases in the facility and have that hope with the vaccines out in the public." Fast food workers also stayed at the front-lines of the pandemic even during the shutdown. Ashleigh McKiel works at the Amherst Arby's — one of the busiest stores in the region. When the pandemic started, McKiel said sales shot through the roof. Grocery stores were closing earlier and restaurants weren't doing dine-in. McKiel said that led people to the drive through. "It was a lot of people's only food source," she said. McKiel said she was busy all the time, and there would be hours with no break in the drive-through line at all. Only just recently has it started to slow back down a little. With dining rooms open, McKiel said that has staggered out sales a bit. Through it all, McKiel said she's kept on going with life. For about a week or so, she couldn't go to work because daycares shut down. But she made it work, and she kept on with her job. In Lorain, Salisbury received her vaccine with all the other county school employees on Feb. 28, although her age group also qualified her. She gets her second shot in under two weeks — on March 28. When vaccine talks first started, Salisbury said she had her doubts. She was scared. So, she researched everything and started to feel more comfortable. Even before a date was set for school staff to get vaccinated, Salisbury said she signed up with every Drug Mart she could. If she has a chance to protect herself and her family, even just a 50 percent chance, Salisbury said she would take it. Life slowly is coming back to normal. She still cleans more than she used to. She still wears a mask. There's still fewer children in the building than normal, but the teachers have returned. "There's a comfort now," Salisbury said. "I walk by their classes and we can talk. We're more protected. We're halfway there." Contact Laina Yost at (440) 329-7121 or lyost@chroniclet.com.