Support for healthcare workers in Paris wanes despite sharp increase in second wave of COVID-19 cases in France
By Lizete Dos Santos
Paris, November 17 — Banana bread baking, jogging and pet adoptions were some of the trends that helped combat the general unease and uncertainty of France’s first lockdown in March. Even a new ritual emerged — every evening at 8pm, Parisians leaned out of windows and balconies to applaud the heroes of the pandemic: healthcare workers on the frontlines of battle. But now, upon the arrival of a second autumnal wave of coronavirus cases, lockdown fatigue and familiarity appear to have unravelled the swell of solidarity from the spring. And this time round, as healthcare workers continue to work around the clock in Paris, no one is clapping.
Pauline Dsamou, a 45 year-old nurse with dark skin and a broad smile, remembers hearing the applause for healthcare workers during the spring as she prepared to begin the night shift at the Adolphe de Rothschild Foundation Hospital, on the border of Paris’ 10th arrondissement. The hospital specializes in the fields of otolaryngology, ophthalmology and internal medicine with a focus on the needs of the elderly, the age group most affected by the COVID-19 pandemic. Hospitals are once again being inundated with patients and at the Rothschild Hospital, Dsamou’s average night shift caseload of 4 patients has now more than tripled up to 13 patients.
By mid-November in France, there were around 87,000 daily new cases and the total number of reported cases has now surpassed 2 million, according to Santé publique France. As healthcare workers continue to persevere they are now facing a battle on two fronts: the COVID-19 pandemic and the deteriorating mental health situation across the country, cited by Health Minister Olivier Véran. During the intense lockdown periods Dsamou, like many other healthcare workers, has not been allowed to take leave and is required to remain within 2 hours travelling distance of the hospital in case she is called in.
“I don’t have a choice,” said Dsamou, “when the hospital says come I have to go, even if I am tired or stressed, I still have to go.” Dsamou explained that while she and many of her colleagues appreciated the applause of support at the beginning of the pandemic, they maintain that respecting the confinement is still the best way the public can show their support for frontline workers. “We don’t care about the clapping if everyone is still out on the streets as if there is no confinement,” she said.
On October 15th, before France’s second lockdown, several hundred health workers took to the streets of Paris demanding better salaries, improved working conditions and the hiring of more staff in order to respond to the outbreak as cases continued to surge. “We don’t feel supported by the government and we don’t feel supported by hospital management,” said Dsamou who felt that both were prioritising the economy over their concerns.
Last-minute schedule changes, staff absences, increased workload and redistribution of staff to departments they are less familiar with are just a few of the stress-inducing factors for Dsamou at the hospital. She has started arriving up to three hours early for her shift in order to better prepare for patient handovers. “You never know what is waiting for you when you arrive,” Dsamou explained. “It’s like if I invite you over last minute to my house and tell you to cook dinner, it will be a stressful experience. You may not have all the ingredients you need and you don’t know where anything is in the cupboards, so it will take you much longer to make the meal because you have to figure it all out.”
The disruption to healthcare workers’ personal lives has also been significant as they are unable to take care of their mental health in the ways they normally would. Patricia Ochs, a psychotherapist based in Paris, explains that without rest and proper space for healthcare workers to process she fears the worst. Ochs cited the case of a young doctor in New York, shaken by treating coronavirus patients, who committed suicide. Ochs said that there has been an uptick in patients seeking mental health services during the second lockdown and stated that healthcare workers needed to be taken better care of. “Mental health issues are so important but they always get pushed under the rug,” said Ochs. “There never seems to be enough money for it, as here in France social security doesn’t cover therapy unless specific criteria are met.”
To maintain good mental health throughout the COVID-19 crisis, Dsamou said that her main support systems have been her co-workers and her family. So when Dsamou had to cancel her planned summer holiday to the United States to visit extended family due to flight restrictions, she was disappointed and discouraged. The time away would have been some much needed rest after the intensity of the first wave of the pandemic. Dsamou, who enjoys keeping active, also hasn’t been able to continue her favourite elliptical classes at the gym because of the lockdown and says she finds it difficult to find time to do her shopping.
Although the Rothschild Hospital has offered hairdressing, massage services and access to therapists to help better support healthcare workers, Dsamou explains these services are only available during the day, which is when exhausted workers from the night shift are sleeping, making them virtually inaccessible.
During the first lockdown in March, many empathised with the struggles of medical staff like Dsmaou, and decided to help. The organisation En Premiere Ligne was started by four friends who wanted to help meet the personal life needs of frontline workers such as shopping or babysitting. They were able to galvanize the support of 80,000 volunteers across the country. Although there were only 3 requests submitted for assistance by healthcare workers living in Paris’ 10th arrondissement, an overwhelming 130 volunteers signed up to help. The project was always intended to be a temporary solution and they decided not to relaunch their platform during the second lockdown.
“We never wanted to replace the work of more established long-standing associations,” said
Titouan Galopin, one of the project’s founders. “I think the second lockdown has been harder for healthcare workers because their intense workload has continued and now there is less support and positivity than the first time.”
Dsamou says she wishes she would have known about solidarity initiatives like En Premiere Ligne during the first lockdown. Having someone to help with the groceries would have made a big difference given the inconvenient hours of her night shifts. The key difference between France’s first and second lockdown is that schools have remained open so frontline workers no longer have the same childcare needs as before.
The second lockdown has also seen a less stringent approach to patrolling as a way of enforcing the confinement. While during the first lockdown other civil servants such as municipal police, Paris city agents and countryside wardens were able to punish lawbreakers, now only the police are being called upon. This combined with growing public apathy towards the virus is a concern for healthcare workers like Dsamou. “We don’t understand why things aren’t more strict and I think now we’re all really worried about what impact the Christmas holidays will have on the elderly especially as more people visit their relatives,” said Dsamou.
The combination of intense working conditions and more relaxed public attitude toward the virus has resulted in a heavy toll on health care workers. “People are aching so much,” said Ochs, “There has been so much increased anxiety because no one is sure when this will end.” For Galopin and other solidarity organisers, mental health support for frontline workers is important now more than ever. He said, “We have to find a different solution because this is not a sustainable rhythm.”
