May 26, 2020 6 min read

On Jenny Sams’ first day at New York-Presbyterian/Columbia Hospital in Manhattan, an epicenter of the coronavirus, pop-up ICUs were crammed with beds occupied by COVID-19 patients, most of them on ventilators.

“It was pretty much hell when I walked in,” said Sams, of Washington. “I’ve been an ICU nurse for 11 years, and I felt nothing new could be thrown at me, but this is something I’ve never seen before. I wondered what I’d gotten into.”

Sams, 36, an ICU travel nurse who worked at UPMC-Presbyterian hospital in Pittsburgh, signed a crisis contract to serve at a hospital in New York City, one of the country’s hardest-hit cities.

To date, 98,035 Americans have died from coronavirus, including more than 23,282 in New York state.

“It’s challenging intellectually and emotionally. It’s not satisfying. You’re not making people better, you’re not making families better,” said Sams. “In my mind, I pictured walking into a war zone, and it’s kind of like that. Everybody’s hurrying, let’s go, let’s get through this. In your mind, you’re turning off your emotions, ignoring how many people are dying, and how quickly, too. People die on every shift.”

Sams said she felt pulled to help after reading about hospitals in New York City being overwhelmed and first responders becoming infected. Then, on March 30, Gov. Andrew Cuomo issued a plea for doctors and nurses from across the country to help their colleagues.

It was, Sams believed, her chance to help, like first responders did following 9/11.

So she decided to go.

Sams started her eight-week stretch at the New York City hospital on April 13, the day after the number of coronavirus cases in New York City peaked.

She works 12-hour shifts four days a week, from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m.

When Sams arrived, operating rooms had been turned into ICUs (because of the shortage of ventilators, anesthesia ventilators used for surgeries were used as permanent ventilators) and three to four patients occupied each room.

Sams was assigned to one of the rooms. She always works with at least two COVID patients.

Sams is living in a hotel in lower Manhattan and takes the subway to and from the hospital.

When she’s not working, Sams, who is enrolled in an acute care nurse practitioner program, spends her time studying. She usually orders food from DoorDash.

“I don’t really have a whole lot of down time. People asked me if I saw anything cool, and I say it’s not like I’m here sightseeing,” she said with a laugh.

After working to treat COVID patients of all ages for six weeks, Sams knows how dangerous the virus is.

“I think what shocked me was the relative rapid onset and deterioration of patients. Usually, when getting a report about a patient, changes happen over a period of time. But with COVID patients, I kept getting a report saying they were admitted April 1, intubated on the 1st, and then it was major, intense things that happened one after another, very quickly,” she said. “It was crazy how quickly they deteriorate.”

Sams said she and other nurses talked about taking photos of the ICUs so that people could see what first responders are experiencing, but that’s not permitted by the hospital.

“I think it would make people less comfortable with the idea that it isn’t as bad as it is,” said Sams. “It’s bad.”

The number of pop-up ICUs has been reduced, but the hospital is still above capacity, and regular ICUs that normally hold one patient are filled with two.

“We’re still beyond what the normal staff here can handle, but it’s getting better,” said Sams.

The shortage of personal protective equipment, or PPE, though, persists.

Like many hospitals and facilities, New York-Presbyterian lacked adequate PPE, and there is less PPE available now than there was when Sams arrived because elective surgeries are being performed again.

Sams said doctors and nurses are being told to conserve N95 masks, and the hospital ran out of surgical caps.

“We’re being told to use our N95s until we can’t use them anymore. We were only using one per shift initially, but now they’ve said there are none to be ordered. People are bringing in their own face shields,” she said.

To make sure she’s not exposing herself, Sams wears two pairs of gloves so that her hands are always covered.

Sams said the hospital encourages patients and families to talk on FaceTime or cellphones, because for many, it’s the last conversation they will have.

“By the time they get to me, many of them are sedated or no longer really here. If someone is actively dying in my care, I make sure I’m there with them. Even if I’m a stranger, they have someone with them. It’s a matter of human dignity. We should not have to die alone,” said Sams.

The days have taken an emotional, physical and mental toll on Sams.

“It definitely feels like it’s dragging. You know how you feel when you get into a routine of something that is painful or a drudgery, and you feel like you’ve been doing it forever? I have a hard time imagining I ever did anything before this. But I would have regretted not coming,” she said.

Sams has two children, Dom, 13, and Jaina, 10, and a stepdaughter, Haven, 12.

She is looking forward to seeing them, and her husband, Greene County Regional Police Chief Zach Sams, when her contract ends on June 6, and plans to take a break before returning to work.

“I’m going to need a couple weeks off after this to relax and reset my brain. I’m kind of in a weird normal right now,” she said.

She planned to isolate in a hotel for two weeks when she gets back, but the hospital offers COVID-19 testing, so she will shelter at home. So far, Sams has tested negative.

Sams said she worries about how the virus will progress over summer and into the fall, and is concerned that people are becoming less cautious or ignoring the seriousness of the pandemic.

“I used to think apathy was the worst thing we’d experience as a society, but it’s really the willful disregard of facts. I think that is probably the most dangerous thing, with people not listening to science,” she said. “If you open your mind and listen to that, you’re going to see the statistics, you’re going to look past the political BS.”