Almost every day, at 6:30 a.m., my dad wakes up and gets ready for work. He rubs his tired eyes and pulls on one of two outfits: a suit and tie or scrubs from head to toe. He pours himself a coffee and drinks it quickly. There is not much time to savor the taste as the sun rises. When he leaves, he grabs an authorized medical mask, gloves, and disinfectant for his car.
He drives to one of two places: the hospital or his office. Yet, days driving to the latter to see patients with scheduled appointments feel like faded memories now. He’s needed elsewhere. My dad is a doctor, an OB/GYN to be exact, not that what kind of doctor you are exactly matters anymore. Any medical training puts you on the front lines if you are willing to be.
Every single day, I am proud of what my dad does. I was proud long before the global pandemic arose, and I remain proud today. In times when things were normal, he used to bring life into the world. He is the most hardworking, courageous, and brave person I’ve ever met, and continues to be.
He listened to her concerns, dead silent. Then, calmly, he responded with a line I will never forget.
“Cari, I will never be afraid of dying. That’s why I chose this job… Because even if someone’s dying in front of me, I will not be afraid to help… If it was any of you and I wasn’t around, I would want someone to help—think about that. So if they ask me, I’m going.”
My mom understood then. My dad would never turn it down. He was too altruistic, which is what we all love about him in the first place. He would never turn down helping, and our family could never even ask him to do otherwise.
There are so many healthcare workers in the world today who are doing so much for us. Just like my dad, they have families, lives, and concerns for the future. They are living day-to-day fueled by the hope that they will help just one more person. These people deserve our respect, appreciation, and attention. Every time we don’t listen to the rules, we put another one of their lives at risk. They are working to make things better, as some of us are making the problem worse.
My dad takes a large pot and swings it onto the stove. He delicately turns the knob, and it ignites. He starts chopping tomatoes, throwing in seasoning lightly. He takes a spoon and tests his mixture, furrowing his brow for a second in contemplation, then throws in a little more seasoning.
After working a full shift all night at the hospital, he’s making homemade tomato sauce. What else would he be doing?
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