Sorted by: Theme: Identity & Social Change

Audio Story by Muhindo M.

Oregon Health Equity Alliance · Story from Muhindo M.

English Translation

My name is Muhindo M. I am here today to talk about COVID-19. It’s a disease called COVID-19 or Corona. It’s a disease that shook the whole world. People could not even leave their house, even companies, stores and schools were closed. Going out shopping, kids going to school and going to the store all stopped. We could not even have normal greetings like shaking hands. All people had to wear masks in the country. Traveling, even using public transportation was a problem. I remember even coming from Africa to us was not possible because every place was closed .People had to be separated if one person was sick. We would like to thank the government because it helped out. Now things are under control and there is medication and vaccines which ended up helping out. We just hope that this disease will not come back again and again. We thank God for the government. We ask that you [the government] help us again if it [COVID-19] comes back again. However, we are hoping that this will never come back again, because now our lives are back to normal. We can go to different places without fear ,we can even travel from Africa to the U.S.A and the other way round and even travel to Australia and other places. We can even go to schools ,go to the stores and best of all to church and everywhere else that we want .We pray to God almighty to help us out so that we don’t have this issue again.

Swahili Transcription

Naitwa Muhindo. M. Niko hapa leo kuzungumza kuhusu COVID-19. Ni ugonjwa unaoitwa COVID-19 au Corona. Ni ugonjwa uliotikisa dunia nzima. Watu hawakuweza hata kuondoka nyumbani kwao, hata kampuni, maduka na shule zilifungwa. Kwenda nje ya ununuzi, watoto kwenda shule na kwenda dukani wote waliacha. Hatukuweza hata kuwa na salamu za kawaida kama kupeana mikono. Watu wote walilazimika kuvaa barakoa nchini. Kusafiri, hata kutumia usafiri wa umma lilikuwa tatizo. Nakumbuka hata kutoka Afrika kuja kwetu haikuwezekana maana kila sehemu ilikuwa imefungwa .Ilibidi watu watenganishwe ikiwa mtu mmoja anaumwa. Tunapenda kuishukuru serikali kwa sababu imetusaidia. Sasa mambo yamedhibitiwa na kuna dawa na chanjo ambazo ziliishia kusaidia. Tunatumahi kuwa ugonjwa huu hautarudi tena na tena. Tunamshukuru Mungu kwa serikali. Tunaomba utusaidie tena ikiwa itarudi tena. Walakini, tunatumai kuwa hii haitarudi tena, kwa sababu sasa maisha yetu yamerudi kawaida. Tunaweza kwenda sehemu mbalimbali bila woga, tunaweza hata kusafiri kutoka Afrika hadi U.S.A na kwa njia nyingine na hata kusafiri hadi Australia na maeneo mengine. Tunaweza hata kwenda shuleni, madukani na bora zaidi kwenda kanisani na kila mahali tunapotaka. Tunamwomba Mungu Mwenyezi atusaidie ili tusipate suala hili tena.

Themes:

AudioCommunity Connection & IsolationIdentity & Social Change

Medium: Audio

Author: Muhindo M.

Date Submitted: November 28, 2023

Bio:

I’m an 18 year old from DR Congo who loves soccer.

Written Story by Anonymous

Back to Stories search

During the Covid-19 pandemic has been quite the rollercoaster ride. Not only do I have to navigate the challenges of raising two young kids, but I also have to manage my own health condition—diabetes. It’s been a constant juggling act between taking care of my children’s needs, keeping them safe, and ensuring I stay healthy in these uncertain times.

Every morning begins with a flurry of activity. As I wake up, the thought of how to protect my kids from this invisible enemy looms over me. I rush to the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee and preparing breakfast for my hungry little ones. I have learned to whip up quick, healthy meals that are diabetes-friendly, so I can set a good example for my kids and manage my own condition. We sit together at the table, sharing stories and laughter, trying to forget the anxiety that hangs in the air. With schools closed and remote learning becoming the new norm, I become both a father and a teacher. Balancing my work responsibilities from home while helping my kids with their assignments has been a challenge. We gather around the dining table, laptops open, and dive into the world of online education. There are times when frustrations bubble to the surface, but I remind myself to be patient, to be understanding. We find creative ways to make learning fun and engaging, incorporating breaks for outdoor activities and explorations in our own backyard. The pandemic has brought us closer as a family, as we spend more time together under one roof. We play board games, build forts, and create art projects. We take long walks in the neighborhood, appreciating the simple pleasures of nature. I cherish these moments, for they remind me of the importance of cherishing the little joys in life amidst the chaos that surrounds us.

However, there are moments when the weight of the world seems too much to bear. Diabetes, already a constant companion, adds an extra layer of concern during these times. I am meticulous about managing my blood sugar levels, ensuring that stress doesn’t take a toll on my health. Regular exercise, a healthy diet, and keeping up with my medications have become even more critical. I make it a point to include my children in this journey, educating them about diabetes, so they can understand and support me in my efforts to stay healthy. The fear of contracting the virus is a constant shadow that hangs over our heads. I take every precaution to protect my family and myself, from wearing masks and sanitizing regularly to avoiding crowded places. We miss the hugs of loved ones, the warmth of gatherings, and the spontaneity of life before the pandemic. But in these challenging times, we have learned the importance of resilience, adaptability, and finding joy in the simplest of moments.

As a single dad with diabetes, I’ve learned to embrace the uncertainties that life throws at us. I’ve become more patient, more compassionate, and more grateful for the moments of joy that come our way. I have grown as a father and as an individual, and I hope that my children will look back on this time as a period of strength, resilience, and togetherness. We will navigate this storm together, hand in hand, and come out stronger on the other side.

Themes:

Community Connection & IsolationEssayGrief & ChangeIdentity & Social ChangeInspiration & HopeMental Health/WellbeingWork/Unemployment

Medium: Written

Author: Anonymous

Date Submitted: November 28, 2023

Bio:

I have two kids and I have diabetes while in Covid it was hard but I got through it

Written Story by Matt

Back to Stories search

My pandemic experience started with a call from my manager: You have been exposed, isolate yourself from others. Call us back if anything happens.

It felt like I had been bitten by a zombie and they were waiting to see if I’ll turn.

Being exposed to illness is something I’ve expected, I work as a X-ray Tech. TB is not a stranger. We in diagnostic imaging are on the front line with doctors and nurses, often not fully appreciated though.

As a X-ray tech I was essential in the COVID ward. I would go through the air lock into my space suit and take portable xrays of patients. There were some times we wished we could go to the ward. One summer the fires were so bad the hospital was so full of smoke the fire alarms kept going off. Breathing that filtered air in our COVID space suits was a real treat.

I got into Xray because I wanted to help patients along their path to wellness. Shooting xrays of knees and hips for replacement planning and seeing them recover and feel better after. It made me feel like I was working in the land of sunshine and rainbows.

It changed, the patients stopped leaving. The COVID ward was crazy. It slid into wild west territory. Doctors were trying to do everything to keep these people alive. I remember helping get ECMO set up, we never do ECMO. Our medical interventions could bypass the heart and lungs, it was often the kidneys that failed. There was something about how the pH couldn’t be correct with the amount of CO2 in the blood.

When patients were discharged It was a celebration. Music would play in the halls.

I remember x-raying someone close to my own age in the COVID ward. When your young you think you’re invincible, that it’s only going to be like the flu at worst. Seeing this patient intubated, alone; that could be me. They were drugged to be paralyzed and to reduce sensations from the choking of the tube down their throat. I was told the patients were still awake.

I volunteer for a graveyard shift Christmas eve to give my coworkers a break. It’s Christmas morning in the COVID ward. My patient has their family on a screen, there’s a nurse bedside saying comforting, compassionate things. It looks grim, no one is supposed to die on Christmas.

Days pass, that patient doesn’t appear on the lists anymore.

But then, a few months ago they’re in the ER. I’m X-raying them, they’re still sick, and in the middle of the exam they mention that I sound familiar. They say how much they appreciate the gentle care they received, that the staff was so nice, that they could remember how I cared for them. I was so surprised they weren’t dead, but you can’t say that to patients. Instead I say: I’m so happy to see you today.

For a moment it felt like I was back in the land of sunshine and rainbows.

Themes:

Care & COVID 19Community Connection & IsolationEssayGrief & ChangeHealth CareIdentity & Social ChangeInspiration & HopeWork/Unemployment

Medium: Written

Author: Matt

Date Submitted: November 28, 2023

Bio:

Hello I’m Matt, your friendly neighborhood X-ray Tech. President of the Oregon Society of Radiologic Technologists. I’ve lived around Portland all my life, Graduated from PCC in 2019.

Written Story by J

Back to Stories search

Summer 2021 was a time in the middle of the pandemic where many folks who could and wanted to get their COVID-19 vaccination for protection, were able to. With a direct line of communication to the Multnomah County Public Health Department and the Oregon Health Authority, community members were able to remind folks of our severely ill, at-risk, and homebound community members who were unable to leave their homes in order to get vaccinated. Specific teams were assigned to help alleviate these issues, although no 211 staff understood how this was supposed to work nor that a team even existed to problem solve these issues.

All this said, for some of us that were very high risk for COVID-19 complications, due to anaphylaxis to excipients such as Polyethylene glycol (PEG), Polypropylene glycol (PG), Polysorbate 80, and other ubiquitous ethoxylated excipients, the risk of dying from anaphylaxis to the COVID-19 vaccines was a somewhat greater, and more immediate risk than dying from COVID-19. The issue, however, was that these same excipients that could cause anaphylaxis from vaccine administration were and also are in all of the available COVID-19 prophylaxis and COVID-19 therapeutics, except IV Remdesivir. Although the FDA had approved IV Remdesivir’s use in the outpatient setting, there were zero hospitals and clinics in the entire state of Oregon that were equipped to provide IV Remdesivir to patients in the outpatient setting. Allergist/Immunologists couldn’t even access the vaccine for their clinics to give to these patients in smaller doses to test their tolerance.

During the extreme heat waves that occurred in July 2021, cooling centers were opened. For those unable to vaccinate for protection, unable to access COVID-19 prophylaxis, and unable to access safe-for-them COVID-19 therapeutics should they become infected with COVID-19, going to a community cooling center to escape the heat, was not a safe option… even when the temperatures got up to 105 degrees F inside the home. Trying to access cooling equipment being on OHP Open Card was impossible as there was not a program, like the CCO’s had, for patients to access cooling equipment, even during one of our deadliest heat waves in history.

This writing is what came out of this experience.

July 2021

Dozens of people died from the heat last week.

The case manager apologized and said there was nothing they could do. It was either a public cooling center and the real possibility of COVID-19 or nothing. Choose. There might be a program that might help you access an air conditioner, but you have the wrong insurance. There is nothing for you. I’m sorry.

Sometimes, oftentimes, it feels useless spending every ounce of energy you have fighting insurance companies, fighting poverty, fighting the racism and ableism that permeates the air, the same air giving life.

When it comes down to it, no one really cares whether a person lives or dies, well, until they’re dead. Then we hear the honorifics, the should haves; but really, if we cared, we wouldn’t build institutions whose job it is to grind people down. To say no until folks just die.

There is no happy ending.

It’s only drudgery, the drudgery of plodding through cold muck in a dark, black cave. The same cave so many before you trudged through before, are trudging through with you now, but within their own solitude, into infinity.

Maybe it’s only when you briefly brush elbows, millions of times, that enough friction is created to produce heat, a brief glimmer of light.

Maybe these sparks produce a fire so large so as to burn it all down. All of these stifling systems that suck the oxygen out of every room in every clinic in every hospital in every region – they suck the oxygen out of each cell who composes its own part in the symphony that sings an organism into being. Maybe through destructive fire, and only through that, the phoenix might be reborn.

But that would spell hope. And we all know that hope is the traitor, the knife in one’s back. Besides, fire requires oxygen. So no fire. No phoenix. No rebirth.

Dozens of people died in the heat last week.

Themes:

AbleismCommunity Connection & IsolationDisability/ImmunocompromisedEssayGrief & ChangeHealth CareIdentity & Social ChangeMental Health/Wellbeing

Medium: Written

Author: J

Date Submitted: November 28, 2023

Written Story by F.I. Goldhaber

Back to Stories search

Eugenics

First published in The Trick Is To Keep Breathing and What Color is Your Privilege?
September, 2022

She said the quiet part out loud,
people “unwell to begin with”
don’t deserve to live. Just like the
poor, the Black, the Indigenous,
the immigrants, the Queers, the Trans.

Because once they figured out most
victims were marginalized, had
comorbidities, were “others”,
the fight to eliminate the
virus succumbed to the battle
to save the economy god.
in the name of the Profit you
must sacrifice the grandparents,
disabled veterans, nannys’
children, baristas’ mothers, clerks
at the corner stores, restaurant
servers, health care workers, drivers
bringing groceries, carry out.

The U.S. already makes clear
who is not wanted, including
those with disabilities, pre-
existing conditions, other
gods, languages, and cultural
traditions. No skin tones kissed with
melanin or “natural” hair.

Disposable collateral,
oblations necessary to
avoid missing brunch, a concert,
a chance to go out dancing or
cheer for the home team at a pub.
Millions already dead, millions
more permanently disabled to
ensure the privileged’s comfort,
the corporations’ bottom lines,
billionaires’ stock portfolios.

As we tumble into Nazi
sovereignty it’s worth reminding
those gambling with their own health and
risking the lives of others, that
among the first slaughtered in the
German Holocaust were those who’re
disabled by the “Spanish” flu.

Themes:

Care & COVID 19Community Connection & IsolationDisability/ImmunocompromisedGrief & ChangeHealth CareIdentity & Social ChangePoetryWork/Unemployment

Medium: Written

Author: F.I. Goldhaber

Date Submitted: November 28, 2023

Bio:

F.I. Goldhaber’s words capture people, places, and politics with a photographer’s eye and a poet’s soul. Paper, plastic, electronic, and audio magazines, books, newspapers, calendars, broadsides, and street signs display their poetry, fiction, and essays. Left Fork press published — 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆? — their collection of political statements in poetic form — in September, 2022. http://www.goldhaber.net/

Written Story by F.I. Goldhaber

Back to Stories search

Normal Life

First Published, August 2020, in CHAOS: The Poetry Vortex

You have a nice home to shelter in,
food to eat, shows to stream, games to play.

You don’t live with an abuser or
parents who misgender you; insist
your orientation is sinful.

Yet you complain you’re deprived of your
social life, restaurants, bars, park visits.

You don’t need to risk your life and your
loved ones for minimum wage
without protection, sick leave, health care.

You’ve enough to pay your bills; credit
cards to order online; connected
devices allowing well-paid work.

But you miss the ball games, parties,
band performances, church services.

You don’t shiver in the cold, snow, and
rain under a tent if you’re lucky,
or just a cardboard box, or blanket.

If your throat is sore, your head feels hot,
you can telephone your physician.

You don’t have to stand in line for a
clinic that sends you home when they run
out of test kits. Or just keep working.

You know what the virus looks like,
how to prevent exposure and illness.

You don’t toil next to those who could be
infected with no information
how, or supplies, to protect yourself.

You fret about event and concert
cancellations, missed graduations.

You don’t worry about untreated
broken bones; forced sex without access
to birth control; deadly pregnancy.

The only people desperate for
life to return to normal are those
privileged to enjoy “normal” life.

Themes:

Care & COVID 19Community Connection & IsolationDisability/ImmunocompromisedGrief & ChangeHealth CareIdentity & Social ChangePoetryWork/Unemployment

Medium: Written

Author: F.I. Goldhaber

Date Submitted: November 27, 2023

Bio:

Written Story by Anonymous

Back to Stories search

The first time I heard about Covid-19, I thought it was the same as any flu that will be over in a couple of weeks. Suddenly, schools were going online, typical school experiences were a thing of the past. I was anxious out of my mind about my last year of high school. My last year of high school, as well as my last year in the early college at Portland Community College, had just begun. I had to take college classes while trying to complete both my high school and associate’s requirements. When we had to switch to online school, I remembered feeling like failure was inevitable for me since I had not anticipated not being in an online environment. I was feeling overwhelmed because I had to adjust to a different learning environment on top of having to juggle my high school and college requirements. I was unfamiliar with learning online and did not know how to navigate this new system. It was a lot of pressure for me to learn all the various tools and techniques quickly. I found myself stuck in feelings of incompetence. I had to take classes like human anatomy and statistics. I convinced myself that I couldn’t do it and that I would not be able to get my associate’s like I wanted. I started showing anxiety symptoms, especially through binge eating because of fear of disappointing myself and my family. I experienced an increased sense of pressure and feeling overwhelmed because I was constantly comparing myself to others and believing I couldn’t keep up. I also felt like I was letting myself and my family down, which led to feelings of guilt and shame. This further compounded my anxiety and negative thoughts. Due to the lockdown in those early stages of Covid-19, I couldn’t get out of my house or find a place to do other things that didn’t pertain to schoolwork. This made it difficult to find a sense of balance and break the cycle of comparison and perfectionism. It also prevented me from taking much-needed breaks and engaging in activities that could help me manage my stress, such as exercise, meditation, or talking to friends. Fortunately, Zoom became famous quickly and a group of people were able to meet online. I had several opportunities to get together with my youth group from church to talk and go through the word of God and remind me that I am not alone even when I think I am. It allowed for a sense of community to remain during this uncertain and isolating time. It gave me the chance to take a break and speak with friends. This helped take my mind off of the stress of the pandemic for a time and gave me a sense of peace. It was a great way to share our joys, sorrows, and experiences with each other. We were also able to use it to stay connected to our church family and keep up to date with all of the latest news and events. There are still after-effects of my experiences of Covid. I was diagnosed with anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder in 2021. Most people don’t know if the internal issues I suffered during Covid and even now when the after-effects can be felt. I am glad that I was able to get help when I needed it and found a way to deal with what I was going through.

Themes:

Care & COVID 19Community Connection & IsolationEssayGrief & ChangeHealth CareIdentity & Social ChangeInspiration & HopeMental Health/WellbeingWork/Unemployment

Medium: Written

Author: Anonymous

Date Submitted: November 27, 2023

Bio:

I am a girl who struggled internally through Covid years. I got the courage to seek help and rebuild the self-competence I had in myself. I started to take care of myself and my mental health. I became more aware of the needs of my body and mind. I learned to put myself first and prioritize my well-being.

Written Story by Anonymous

Back to Stories search

In the beginning of COVID, there were two things I feared: the disease itself and the fear of getting COVID. As a disabled person with multiple medical issues, I listened to the news reports of the lack of staff, the lack of personal protective equipment, the lack of facilities, and the need to categorize or prioritize people who became infected by able bodied or disabled. The able bodied were identified as contributing members of society, less expensive to treat, and more likely to survive and recover from the disease. I felt fear and anger that should I seek treatment for COVID as a disabled person, I would be refused admission to the hospital or admitted to the hospital and then left in a corner to die.

This fear created an extremely high level of anxiety as I found myself isolating myself from family members and friends in order to not be infected. Those family members included people older than me with disabilities as well and serious chronic health conditions. Knowing that if they tested positive for COVID meant that they would be given a death sentence. How could their age and their disabilities be considered an inconvenience for the health care system? How could my disabilities be considered the benchmark for whether or not I would receive care. I have never felt so unwanted by society as I did during these early days of COVID. When I spoke out about the ranking of able-bodied people over disabled people to receive treatment, I was shocked to hear able-bodied people tell me that I was a selfish individual. That if I had done more to be healthy before COVID, health care providers would not have had to make this decision. They acted as if my disabilities were my fault and as if my disabilities would simply go away if I wanted them too.

I felt like I had to hide myself away to protect myself not only from the disease but from society itself. I missed my grandson being born and had to view him through the front window of his living room. A piece of glass between us to protect him and myself. Months later after I was vaccinated, I was finally able to hold him. I cry writing this now as just picking him up in my arms felt like the world might be becoming right again. When I was vaccinated, it felt like every part of my body where I experienced lifelong conditions and chronic health issues was attacked. I could barely walk and it felt like every nerve was on fire. I had little strength or ability to complete the smallest tasks. This lasted for weeks. When I brought up my symptoms, I was ignored initially. I suffered endlessly with no relief in sight. Eventually, those symptoms would diminish but I still experience pain in my legs and a feeling of constant exhaustion. I can only hope that our society has learned from COVID to make sure that everyone in the community is protected and cared for no matter what the crisis, disaster or emergency. No one should feel isolated and fear seeking medical help as a disabled person.

Themes:

AbleismCare & COVID 19Community Connection & IsolationDisability/ImmunocompromisedEssayGrief & ChangeHealth CareIdentity & Social ChangeMental Health/Wellbeing

Medium: Written

Author: Anonymous

Date Submitted: November 27, 2023

Bio:

I have been disabled since I was thirteen as a result of a serious medical condition. I have experienced bias and discrimination since age 13 around my disability. It was not until COVID that I felt completely alone and vulnerable and feared for my life if I sought medical treatment.

Sorted by: Theme: Identity & Social Change

English Translation

Swahili Transcription

Eugenics

Normal Life

Alone, Now and Forever