The Limited Times

Now you can see non-English news...

Christmas Eve at the Covid ward of the Ebersberg District Clinic

2020-12-24T05:26:49.562Z


Covid patients experience a lonely Christmas on the wards of the Ebersberg district clinic. The nurses and doctors are doing their best to make the situation a little more bearable.


Covid patients experience a lonely Christmas on the wards of the Ebersberg district clinic.

The nurses and doctors are doing their best to make the situation a little more bearable.

Ebersberg

- In front of the heavy metal sliding door number 27, behind the glass pane of which two corona patients hung in hoses are fighting for their lives, there is a Christmas tree with silver and purple balls at shoulder height.

A little normalcy in a place where things are never normal.

At the moment even less than usual. In the intensive care unit in the Ebersberg district clinic.

Half a dozen nurses in blue coats populate the "base" at the entrance, where the cardiovascular curves of the patients flicker on the computer screens as they struggle to get better in the separate chambers.

It's a bit like a beehive - the nursing staff swarms from the organizational center in the middle of the room to the individual bed chambers.

The mood is busy but not hectic.

"The intensive care unit is full," says the medical director of the clinic, Dr.

Peter Kreissl.

“As always,” he adds.

+

The glowing Christmas tree in the intensive care unit exudes something of Christmas normality.

In the background, Covid patients are isolated and ventilated in an artificial coma.

© Stefan Rossmann

The Christmas spirit prevails outside, in the Ebersberg district clinic, corona patients are wrestling with the virus

While the district of Ebersberg is looking forward to the Christmas holidays despite all this year's adversity, Christmas Eve in the clinic will be a day almost like any other - it is a routine far from normal.

The Ebersberg intensive care unit is the heart chamber of the fight that the hospital is waging against the virus.

The internists and anesthetists will - like every day - meet several times on December 24th in front of the blackboard next to the Christmas tree, where colorful magnets indicate the occupancy of the intensive care beds.

A red “B” stands for “ventilated”.

There, the doctors and nurses have to think about which patients they can move to make room for the next, who are a matter of life and death.

And they have to think about which patient needs how much oxygen, and whether they have to turn them on their stomach in an artificial coma to relieve the lungs.

Or whether the breathing is so damaged that he only has a chance in one of Munich's major or university clinics, where ventilation via the blood, similar to dialysis, is possible.

There have also been these cases in Ebersberg, says clinic director Kreissl.

+

The map of the intensive care beds on a blackboard in the ward is adorned with a silver bow.

Room 27 houses two Covid patients, the red magnet symbolizes artificial ventilation.

© Stefan Rossmann

Entire wards of the Ebersberger Kreisklinik are closed - Covid patients need a lot of care

He marches through deserted corridors and stairwells, dressed entirely in doctor's white, in the direction of the corona wards, where patients are treated who can do without artificial oxygen supply.

In the semi-dark corridor of Ward 3b, Interior and Urology, Kreissl spreads his arms and shouts: “Here are dead pants!” The nurses 'and patients' rooms are empty, the hallway is dead quiet.

+

Empty corridors, dark rooms: Medical Director Dr.

Peter Kreissl on the vacated station 3b.

© Stefan Rossmann

On Tuesday, the clinic cleared another station to join forces for the Covid 19 patients.

Geriatrics, trauma surgery and orthopedics have merged.

“We all have to move closer together,” says Kreissl.

“It is crucial that we remain ready to accept.” To this end, the clinic is postponing all planned operations.

Only emergency care takes place.

For example, if you need an artificial hip, you have to be patient.

And if you can go home, you have to go home.

"Bloody dismissed", Kreissl calms down in medical jargon, "we won't do that".

+

A cleaner wipes and disinfects a patient's room in the corona ward of the Ebersberg district clinic.

© Stefan Rossmann

The corona station is cleaned and disinfected in full protective gear

Kreissl leaves the quiet corridors behind him, opens a door on which a sign hangs: "Infection station - no passage" The corona station is very busy.

A cleaning lady disinfects a patient room that has just been vacated.

She also wipes and scrubs in full-body protective gear, FFP2 mask, and face visor.

The room must be ventilated for an hour after disinfecting, otherwise the stench of the acrid is unbearable.

Next door there are almost two dozen people in two and three-bed rooms.

You cough, have shortness of breath and circulatory problems.

And have tested positive for the coronavirus.

As long as they are only suspected, they are individually isolated on another ward so that no one is additionally infected.

It will be a particularly lonely Christmas Eve for these people.

Every time you walk into a patient's room, there is a complete change of clothing

At the door of Ward 1a, the Corona ward, a nurse hands rubbish bags, infusion bags and other material over the threshold to her colleague, who is in full-body protective gear in the patient room with two infected people.

As soon as it leaves this, a set change is mandatory.

Hence the handout through the open door.

+

Disinfect, disinfect, disinfect - that is the mantra at the Ebersberger Corona Station.

© Stefan Rossmann

At the very back of the station corridor a Christmas tree shines again in the window, this time in gold.

The sisters decorated.

The infected people who spend Christmas in the Covid ward do not feel like celebrating, says the medical director.

“They just want to go home.” Because the coronavirus that plagues them prevents this, the carers and fellow patients have to serve as substitute families.

We give the care we can give.

Dr.

Peter Kreissl, Medical Director of the District Clinic

The station is normally manned even on public holidays.

“Everyone is aware of what a difficult time this is,” says Clinic Director Kreissl and promises: “We will give the attention we can give.” Often that means just talking, listening, holding hands.

The average age of Covid patients is 80 years.

“You are not alone,” promises Peter Kreissl.

New Year's Eve Covid patients already have the coronavirus in them

He is also worried about his staff when he looks into the near future.

“People also need to be free, otherwise it's like an engine running hot.” ​​Physically and mentally, the pressure on doctors and nurses is high.

“It doesn't leave anyone behind without a trace,” says Kreissl.

And relaxation is not yet in sight, rather the opposite.

The people who will spend New Year's Eve in the corona ward of the district clinic have long been carrying the virus.

In view of the recent high case numbers, clinic director Dr.

Peter Kreissl: “Today's incidence is our cases in ten to 14 days.

We have concerns about the time after Christmas. "

Source: merkur

All news articles on 2020-12-24

You may like

Trends 24h

Latest

© Communities 2019 - Privacy

The information on this site is from external sources that are not under our control.
The inclusion of any links does not necessarily imply a recommendation or endorse the views expressed within them.