Biking through uncertainty
For the past few weeks, riding my bike has been a vital aspect of my life. While pedaling, I feel some semblance of control, I am under the illusion of a return to normalcy, and I regain a sense of purpose. In many ways, biking gives me with everything I have been without since the escalation of COVID19. I should note however, that overall I feel extremely fortunate being young, healthy, and well supported by family and friends. The last few months have been relatively easy for me, especially in contrast to the intense hardship many are facing today whether it be unemployment, job-insecurity, a shift to home-based education and childcare, and of course illness and death. Given my relative fortune amidst these trying times, I have sought a role in supporting and assisting those that need it. Surrounded by inspiring individuals in my own family – healthcare workers, an interior designer repurposing her skills to provide masks to local hospitals, teachers adapting to online learning, and fitness instructors offering classes via Zoom – I have felt an intense need and desire to contribute and provide a service.
At the time when the response to and panic regarding COVID19 was setting in around the United States, I was, as part of my sub-internship, functioning as a member of an internal medicine team at Strong. I was arriving at the hospital a little before 6AM and leaving around 5PM. My days were busy, I was enjoying taking care of patients, and I felt, very much, a part of the hospital’s efforts to adapt and respond to the rapidly progressing COVID19 pandemic (despite not being allowed to care for those suspected to be infected with the coronavirus). We were briefed daily regarding strategies for managing and testing those with suspected coronavirus infections, proper gowning and gloving techniques, and the projected spread of disease in the greater Rochester area. Then abruptly, everything changed. Just after being at the hospital seeing patients Sunday morning I, along with the rest of third and fourth year students, were informed that we would no longer be allowed work in the hospital. And just like that, my life as it was, came to a halt. There would be no goodbyes or thank-yous to physicians on the team, no formal farewells to patients I had seen earlier that same day, no closure.
Along with this sudden change to my routine came a palpable void, an absence of sorts, and a sense of distance, not only from others, but from the healthcare profession. Just hours before, I was operating under the impression that I was helping, working, and caring for others while preparing for the first wave of COVID19 patients in Rochester. Now, that sense of purpose and identity was foregone.
Fortunately, in addition to taking an online elective, I reworked by sense of purpose to fit within the context of biking. With temperatures warming and the sun shining bright (even in Rochester), I decided to plan new routes, explore roads I had yet to traverse, and push myself to ride for multiple hours. I did this all while riding either alone or (appropriately physically-distanced of course) with my parents or friends. With the wind brushing against my face, my hands on my handlebars, I repurposed the energy I was previously directing toward my daily work in the hospital to climbing hills and pedaling my bike forward - all while making those riding with me, keeping me afloat, know that they are loved and appreciated.
Just as cycling began to set in as part of my weekly routine, I received further news that would reset and refocus my sense of responsibility and purpose – we, the class of 2020 would be graduating early; the rationale being that the hospital could then employ us, allowing us to join the battle against COVID19 in Rochester. Thus, yet again, my presumed role in all of this was reinstated and assured. I spent the following week completing graduation requirements, reading through emergency medicine topics, and mentally preparing to join the workforce as a newly minted physician. I was asked to speak to local media outlets regarding my interest in working following graduation and subsequently received congratulatory and supportive words from physicians I have worked with during medical school, former teachers and coaches, my undergraduate institution, and many family members and friends. I was nervous, but thinking of all those on the “front-lines” whether it be grocery store workers, waste management personnel, bus drivers, small-business owners, or healthcare professionals, I was intensely focused on joining these individuals and helping in any way possible. Yes – I was back on a track, a clear path, with a clear destination.
But in a time of uncertainty and change, there is only one thing you can rely on, and that is further change. Much like riding a bike, despite being on a clear path, on a planned route, you can encounter unforeseen obstacles such as road closings, muddy paths, streams, and of course breathtaking climbs. Moreover, you might get a flat tire and be forced to stop and be your own pit-crew, or maybe you didn’t pack enough food to fuel you along. Essentially, even when you feel in control, pedaling and steering your bike, there are still many elements out of your control – such is life too. So, despite the illusion of being back on a clear path with an explicit purpose, I was again, following graduation, forced to reconcile that this in fact, was not my reality. Instead, I was informed that my services in the emergency department here in Rochester would not be needed after all. Reading this news, my heart sank into my stomach, a fullness arose in my throat, and my mind raced … well, what now?
I have graduated from medical school, remained separated from my family, and spoken to local media, all with the intention of joining the workforce. I had put other opportunities to volunteer in the community aside, again with the anticipation of being busy and working. Of course, I was happy and relieved to hear that Rochester is well equipped to manage those inflicted by COVID19 and that the case-load is not expected to exceed our ability to deliver resources or provide necessary care. This was good news! But at the same time, I felt let down, which I admit was selfish. This pandemic is much bigger and more complicated than my personal situation; moreover, I should not be relying on global disasters to instill meaning and purpose in my life. Still, my reaction was complicated by the fact that I felt like I was letting others down – family, friends, colleagues, teachers, and all those who had congratulated me wished me luck as I graduated and planned to join the workforce. I was on the news just a week ago and now, I thought to myself, I am a total fraud.
So here I am trying to fill a space - previously filled by studying, rotations, a sub-internship, course-work, graduation, and preparation for work - but now empty once again. This current time, in the scheme of things and in retrospect, will appear short and transient – soon enough I will begin residency and long for a time when I had this much free time. But still, reading and hearing about the heroic efforts of community members, health care workers, teachers, and grocery workers among others, I grapple daily with self-guilt rooted in the fact that I am not providing help or a sort of service to others. In response, with the understanding that I will not be working, I have reached out to a few organizations, offering to volunteer; but even so, getting involved has been a slow process and in some cases, the prospect of me having to move in the coming weeks has limited my utility here in Rochester.
Given all of this, I have once again turned to riding my bike. Although unpredictable in its own way, cycling has been the one constant for me during this volatile, ever-changing time. When I am on my bike, life is simplified to just a few variables: the road, the bike, and my own willpower. In some sense, I have convinced myself that the more I subject myself to long distances, difficult terrain, and steeper climbs, the more I am preparing myself for the stress of the unknown, the eventual pressures and responsibilities of being a resident, and the ability to overcome challenges – for now it may be relentless hills but eventually, it will be sick patients seeking care, reassurance, and comfort. Yes, for now, biking provides much of the purpose, focus, responsibility, challenge, reward, and even comradery that I had previously gained from being in the hospital. And at a time when I feel out-of-control and a bit helpless, my bike provides just the antidote: a sense of control and a bit of help navigating this uncertain terrain.
- John DeGuardi, 4/23/20
At the time when the response to and panic regarding COVID19 was setting in around the United States, I was, as part of my sub-internship, functioning as a member of an internal medicine team at Strong. I was arriving at the hospital a little before 6AM and leaving around 5PM. My days were busy, I was enjoying taking care of patients, and I felt, very much, a part of the hospital’s efforts to adapt and respond to the rapidly progressing COVID19 pandemic (despite not being allowed to care for those suspected to be infected with the coronavirus). We were briefed daily regarding strategies for managing and testing those with suspected coronavirus infections, proper gowning and gloving techniques, and the projected spread of disease in the greater Rochester area. Then abruptly, everything changed. Just after being at the hospital seeing patients Sunday morning I, along with the rest of third and fourth year students, were informed that we would no longer be allowed work in the hospital. And just like that, my life as it was, came to a halt. There would be no goodbyes or thank-yous to physicians on the team, no formal farewells to patients I had seen earlier that same day, no closure.
Along with this sudden change to my routine came a palpable void, an absence of sorts, and a sense of distance, not only from others, but from the healthcare profession. Just hours before, I was operating under the impression that I was helping, working, and caring for others while preparing for the first wave of COVID19 patients in Rochester. Now, that sense of purpose and identity was foregone.
Fortunately, in addition to taking an online elective, I reworked by sense of purpose to fit within the context of biking. With temperatures warming and the sun shining bright (even in Rochester), I decided to plan new routes, explore roads I had yet to traverse, and push myself to ride for multiple hours. I did this all while riding either alone or (appropriately physically-distanced of course) with my parents or friends. With the wind brushing against my face, my hands on my handlebars, I repurposed the energy I was previously directing toward my daily work in the hospital to climbing hills and pedaling my bike forward - all while making those riding with me, keeping me afloat, know that they are loved and appreciated.
Just as cycling began to set in as part of my weekly routine, I received further news that would reset and refocus my sense of responsibility and purpose – we, the class of 2020 would be graduating early; the rationale being that the hospital could then employ us, allowing us to join the battle against COVID19 in Rochester. Thus, yet again, my presumed role in all of this was reinstated and assured. I spent the following week completing graduation requirements, reading through emergency medicine topics, and mentally preparing to join the workforce as a newly minted physician. I was asked to speak to local media outlets regarding my interest in working following graduation and subsequently received congratulatory and supportive words from physicians I have worked with during medical school, former teachers and coaches, my undergraduate institution, and many family members and friends. I was nervous, but thinking of all those on the “front-lines” whether it be grocery store workers, waste management personnel, bus drivers, small-business owners, or healthcare professionals, I was intensely focused on joining these individuals and helping in any way possible. Yes – I was back on a track, a clear path, with a clear destination.
But in a time of uncertainty and change, there is only one thing you can rely on, and that is further change. Much like riding a bike, despite being on a clear path, on a planned route, you can encounter unforeseen obstacles such as road closings, muddy paths, streams, and of course breathtaking climbs. Moreover, you might get a flat tire and be forced to stop and be your own pit-crew, or maybe you didn’t pack enough food to fuel you along. Essentially, even when you feel in control, pedaling and steering your bike, there are still many elements out of your control – such is life too. So, despite the illusion of being back on a clear path with an explicit purpose, I was again, following graduation, forced to reconcile that this in fact, was not my reality. Instead, I was informed that my services in the emergency department here in Rochester would not be needed after all. Reading this news, my heart sank into my stomach, a fullness arose in my throat, and my mind raced … well, what now?
I have graduated from medical school, remained separated from my family, and spoken to local media, all with the intention of joining the workforce. I had put other opportunities to volunteer in the community aside, again with the anticipation of being busy and working. Of course, I was happy and relieved to hear that Rochester is well equipped to manage those inflicted by COVID19 and that the case-load is not expected to exceed our ability to deliver resources or provide necessary care. This was good news! But at the same time, I felt let down, which I admit was selfish. This pandemic is much bigger and more complicated than my personal situation; moreover, I should not be relying on global disasters to instill meaning and purpose in my life. Still, my reaction was complicated by the fact that I felt like I was letting others down – family, friends, colleagues, teachers, and all those who had congratulated me wished me luck as I graduated and planned to join the workforce. I was on the news just a week ago and now, I thought to myself, I am a total fraud.
So here I am trying to fill a space - previously filled by studying, rotations, a sub-internship, course-work, graduation, and preparation for work - but now empty once again. This current time, in the scheme of things and in retrospect, will appear short and transient – soon enough I will begin residency and long for a time when I had this much free time. But still, reading and hearing about the heroic efforts of community members, health care workers, teachers, and grocery workers among others, I grapple daily with self-guilt rooted in the fact that I am not providing help or a sort of service to others. In response, with the understanding that I will not be working, I have reached out to a few organizations, offering to volunteer; but even so, getting involved has been a slow process and in some cases, the prospect of me having to move in the coming weeks has limited my utility here in Rochester.
Given all of this, I have once again turned to riding my bike. Although unpredictable in its own way, cycling has been the one constant for me during this volatile, ever-changing time. When I am on my bike, life is simplified to just a few variables: the road, the bike, and my own willpower. In some sense, I have convinced myself that the more I subject myself to long distances, difficult terrain, and steeper climbs, the more I am preparing myself for the stress of the unknown, the eventual pressures and responsibilities of being a resident, and the ability to overcome challenges – for now it may be relentless hills but eventually, it will be sick patients seeking care, reassurance, and comfort. Yes, for now, biking provides much of the purpose, focus, responsibility, challenge, reward, and even comradery that I had previously gained from being in the hospital. And at a time when I feel out-of-control and a bit helpless, my bike provides just the antidote: a sense of control and a bit of help navigating this uncertain terrain.
- John DeGuardi, 4/23/20
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