In the spring of 2020, the world’s gaze shifted to New York City as the COVID pandemic quickly set in and claimed thousands of lives. From the comfort of my apartment in California, I anxiously watched news reports of overwhelmed healthcare workers and unprecedented numbers of deaths necessitating refrigerated trucks. It quickly became clear that California, my home state, was not going to reach that same state of emergency at that time, so I used my vacation time to travel to New York City and help in the intensive care unit.

That experience was transformative. I had never taken care of so many people who were, essentially, dying. Our whole goal, as physicians, is to help people. But in this case our hands were tied. There were no medications or interventions that seemed to be effective. We were given minimal amounts of personal protective equipment, and many of us were “redeployed” to specialties in which we had little training. On top of that, healthcare organizations discouraged their employees from sharing their experiences. As a volunteer, I felt it my duty to speak up. So I shared my experiences on Twitter, in writing for national outlets, and on TV. I later spent several months in Arizona helping with their surges, again on the frontlines in the intensive care unit. It has been an honor and a privilege to help, yet experiencing so much death and dying continues to haunt me, as it does for countless other healthcare professionals.