Outbreak Wisconsin chronicles people’s journeys through the coronavirus crisis, exposes failing systems and explores solutions.
Mariah Clark is many things. She’s a blacksmith, a tall-ship sailor and an EMT. She’s also an emergency room nurse at UW Health in Madison, placing her on the frontlines of the pandemic in Dane County, which has seen 387 confirmed cases of COVID-19 and 20 deaths, as of April 22.
“Some days are really busy and really bad,” Clark said in an audio diary she is keeping for the Outbreak Wisconsin project.
“And then there’s other days that just feel tremendously normal.”
Early on in the pandemic, Clark’s job included a lot of waiting for COVID-19 cases to start rising. She compared it to watching a slow-moving hurricane, drawing on her time living on the Gulf Coast.
“There were some storms that you could see coming. You could see the clouds pile up on the horizon, just creeping along. They weren’t moving fast. You had lots of time to make your preparations. To trim your trees. To buy your groceries, fill up your water containers, put the storm shutters on the house,” Clark recalled.
“And then you just waited.”
Clark described UW Health as “arguably the best prepared and equipped hospital in the state.”
“We put off elective surgeries. We discharge anyone who’s stable to go home. We limit clinic hours. We limit visitors. And we wait.”
Getting ready for work is much different than it used to be. Clark said her access to the hospital is limited to only a few doors where she must show identification and answer screening questions (“Are you self monitoring?…Any symptoms?”). Once inside the building she follows a blue tape line that directs her away from people exiting the building.
Related stories: Madison nurses experience desperation and ‘beautiful spots of light’ in COVID-19 hospital ward
Stretched thin already, Wisconsin nurses prepare for coronavirus ‘storm’
Once inside she heads to the locker room to “change into hospital scrubs, put my hair up under a cap, put on the same N-95 mask or surgical mask that I’ve been using for 3 weeks, and then a plastic face shield over that.”
“It’s a little more involved than it used to be to get ready to work,” Clark said.
In early April, as cases in Dane County were picking up, Clark reflected on her shift during her drive home from work. “It couldn’t be called a bad shift by our normal metrics,” Clark said, trying to force logic into her reflection.
“We’re still seeing fewer patients than we usually do. But at the same time, because more of what’s coming in is true emergencies. I think it feels like there’s more death, more gut wrenching stories.”
She paused.
“Today, I had my first friend die of COVID,” Clark said. “Not acquaintance. Not patient. Friend.”
Clark continued: “I can’t help but wonder — even though I’m not actually superstitious by nature — whether that was why I got suddenly sad yesterday.”
Clark mused she should fire up her forge and “make the anvil ring” for her friend, who was a fellow blacksmith.
“Instead, I think I’ll celebrate with smaller fires,” Clark said, “and light some candles and sink into my bathtub with a nice glass of whiskey.”
“And then I’ll be ready to face another day tomorrow and go back to work.”
The nonprofit Wisconsin Center for Investigative Journalism (wisconsinwatch.org) collaborates with Wisconsin Public Radio, PBS Wisconsin, other news media and the UW-Madison School of Journalism and Mass Communication. All works created, published, posted or disseminated by the Center do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of UW-Madison or any of its affiliates.
Republish our articles for free, online or in print, under a Creative Commons license.
