If life in the last 19 months has been bad for the common man, spare a thought for the frontliners.
True, frontliners have not had to worry about losing their jobs anytime since the Covid-19 pandemic began — in fact, theirs has been the most secure, indispensable, even.
But, ask anyone to volunteer for the same burden of responsibility and risk, for the incommensurate civil servant's salary that comes with it, and everyone else would be wise to count their blessings.
And while the early images of hospital staff swaddled in layers of Personal Protective Equipment, slumped exhausted in corridors, snatching naps wherever and whenever they could was convincing enough that these, surely, are the toughest jobs, Health Ministry statistics on calls made to the ministry and Mercy Malaysia's psychosocial helpline between March 25 last year and Sept 19 this year show that nearly 18,000 medical frontliners had called, reporting burnout and acute stress. It has been a tough 19 months.
While everyone's experience and suffering is valid, let us acknowledge the debt of gratitude we owe to the frontliners, who have worked so hard to keep us safe, well and alive.
Battling a vicious novel virus that is so insidious at adapting itself is tough enough; having to deal with wave upon wave of patients coming in, and not always being able to save them, must have been devastatingly demoralising.
Certainly, theirs is a job that expects to sometimes see negative outcomes; but, to have so many sweeping in like a relentless tsunami is a baptism of fire that no one would be able to get through without some form of psychological scarring.
At its peak, when patients outnumbered resources, even junior doctors found themselves triaging as to who gets treatment and who doesn't — effectively, who lives, and who doesn't. Beyond the hospital doors, there were basic domestic issues to deal with — children who needed to be looked after, their education to be supervised, groceries to be bought and meals to be cooked.
And because the risks for those covering Covid-19 patients were too high to chance passing on to loved ones, there was the added pain of crushing isolation from loved ones; the sanctuary and Eden towards which we all head at the end of a long hard slog — denied to frontliners. It's a wonder that many didn't resign. But, of course they didn't. For, these are the people who go into the field to answer the call of help.
Recognising the challenges that frontliners face, the federal government has and will put in place measures to help them do their jobs without having to pay the hefty tolls of the past.
Nurseries in hospitals to care for the children of frontliners, roving mental health evaluators to catch those that are about to fall, and, to prevent burnout, rosters and unrecorded leave that will ensure that frontliners get enough rest.
But, these safety-net measures are only effective when there isn't a surge in infections and admissions. If new variants enter the country and run rampant because the populace is not taking precautions, our poor frontliners will be back to the fore, rested or not, mentally well or not.
So, pay heed and take care. Let us honour the frontliners with our considerate action. And if not for them, let us do it for ourselves, and our loved ones.