When Sleep Becomes a Battlefield
Anne Messman, a seasoned ER doctor in Detroit, had the uncanny feeling that something was off when she started tossing and turning and found herself snapping at people she cared about.
It all started in late March: a brutal nine‑hour shift, seven patients succumbing to COVID‑19. For Anne, the loss was expected—she’s no stranger to death—but the sleepless nights were a new ally in the war.
Why the Sleeplessness?
- Phone‑only family updates. With visitors barred, relatives had to learn the news over the line, a gut‑wrenching way to tell a loved one died.
- Personal health risks. Anne takes immunosuppressive meds, putting her at higher risk of catching the virus herself.
- Fears for her kids. She worries about bringing the sickness home to her eight‑ and nine‑year‑old daughters.
- Graphic images. Photographs of bodies stored in refrigerated units surfaced. The sight of stacked body bags felt like a darker horror than the deaths themselves.
More Than Just an ER Nightmare
It’s not just Anne. Across the U.S., thousands of healthcare workers are grappling with trauma that feels oddly similar to what soldiers experience back from distant battlefields.
Doctors and nurses report symptoms ranging from panic and anxiety to grief, numbness and relentless nightmares.
Expert Insight
Major Olli Toukolehto of the US Military’s 531st Hospital Center notes that burnout, anxiety, depression, and moral injury are almost inevitable when you’re exposed to such stressful conditions long enough.
Psychiatrists at Mount Sinai suggest anywhere from 25% to 40% of frontline medical staff could be battling PTSD as a direct outcome of the outbreak.
Anne’s Route to Rest
She used to be a bookworm but couldn’t focus. Instead, she spent nights watching TV or scrolling on her phone, “until my eyes literally shut against my will,” she says.
“I would wake up hours later and just lie there again,” she added. Now, after regular therapy sessions, Anne is finding her sleep improving… but the worry lingers. She fears a second wave could send her insomnia into the ground.
“We’re preparing for the worst,” she says. “If the outbreak comes back online, I’ll be ready, but I’ll still be on edge.”
`This is a marathon uphill’
Hospitals Beat the Blues: Brain‑Care Hype in the Frontlines
Across California, New York, North Carolina and other states, emergency rooms are seeing a new kind of turnout ‑ not for patients, but for support groups. Calls to 24/7 hotlines are up, and some hospitals are even firing in mental‑health pros to pop over the wards and check in on staff.
Columbia’s Quick‑Fix Clinics
Last week, Columbia University Irving Medical Center rolled out 70 one‑to‑one therapy sessions and 30 peer‑support groups. Psychiatrist Lou Baptista rolled out the agenda and said, “It’s not surprising that people are fatigued…anxious, stressed and sad. This is a marathon uphill 110 degrees that you’ve never prepared for.”
New York City’s Combat‑Ready Plan
With 14,000+ deaths linked to COVID, including over 20 healthcare workers, the public hospital system partnered with the U.S. Department of Defence to shoot over resilience training. “War brain: a sniper or rockets,” Toukolehto says. “In a pandemic you’re staring at an invisible enemy that’s got you mentally running on high alert.”
Mount Sinai’s PTSD Hub
- Launched a new centre last week that tackles PTSD and other mental‑health nightmares.
- Opened a 24/7 crisis hotline which has now seen roughly 10 calls a week.
- About 20 employees have already been whisked off to outpatient psychiatric evaluations.
In short, hospitals are stepping up mental‑health armoury for their frontline crew, making sure the weary “war‑zone” workers get the care they need. And who knows – maybe the next big trend will be a pop‑corn version of therapy, served fresh from the ICU.
`A collective gut punch’
Hearts, Panic, and the Invisible Battle on the Frontlines
When Covid‑19 hit, even seasoned ER doctors found themselves facing a wave of death that felt like a tidal surge. The sheer volume of patients slipping away was something no one in healthcare could have mentally rehearsed.
What One Doctor Heard
- “I’m never going to be the same after going through this experience,” said Eric Wei, a veteran ER doctor and VP of Quality at NYC Health + Hospitals.
- Wei believes 2020 will mark a turning point for every healthcare worker—a last shift that rewrote their reality.
The Shockwave of a Tragic Loss
Lorna Breen, an ER physician at New York‑Presbyterian Allen, died last month. Her suicide was described by Wei as a “collective gut punch.” Breen had battled Covid‑19 herself and worn down by relentless caregiving.
Is PTSD a Possibility?
While it might be premature to label any symptom as PTSD—because those signs must linger for over a month—many front‑liners are showing early warning flags.
- Melissa, a nurse in Indianapolis, recognizes the panic attacks her unit experienced during the pandemic as clear mental trauma.
- She herself was diagnosed with work‑induced PTSD four years ago and prefers to use her first name because she’s wary of the stigma attached to recovery.
- Her colleagues are on edge: one has heart palpitations after a shift, another took disability leave due to panic attacks and grief.
- At a facility serving roughly 150 patients—half of whom contracted the virus—Melissa says it feels like “sitting and waiting for a bomb to drop.”
Balancing Hope and Reality
In that setting, the line between living and dying faded; everyone was unsure if the next breath would be the last or the next step forward. It’s an emotional roller coaster that left no one untouched.
