By Kristen M. Swanson
It feels like four years, but it has only been four weeks.
It was an email from a Seattle University undergraduate on Sunday, March 1, that introduced COVID-19 into my lexicon. She wrote that, while working as a nurse tech three days before, she cared for a patient who later tested positive, and she said that, on Friday, she was on campus and participated in a class of 40 students.
Having no guidance but the “first draft” of the CDC decision-making rubric posted on the Seattle King County Public Health website, the asymptomatic student and I determined she was at “moderate risk,” meaning she needed to self-quarantine for 14 days. We agreed to share her news with her classmates, so they might assess their level of exposure.
The next day, our vice president for Student Affairs and I met with her peers in person. I told the group I was speaking with them as fellow members of the nursing profession and fully trusted they would guard the information I was about to impart in full compliance with HIPPA regulations. Engaging each of them in an eye to eye nod, I shared their peer’s name (who was also in attendance via Zoom), told them the facts, and offered assurance their classmate had used universal precautions (to much applause and shout outs of “Way to go!”). I left the meeting proud of our students, albeit a bit shaky and hoping we had done the right thing.
When I arrived at my office, a colleague greeted me with news of two more students’ exposure.
Over the next 10 days, as Seattle became known as the epi-center of COVID-19, health care facilities where our students worked started turning them away for fear of running out of personal protection equipment or PPE. Within days, Seattle University announced the suspension of face-to-face classes, and students were encouraged to head home.
Two weeks into the crisis, we had to make a dramatic pivot.
Days later, faculty, staff, and students went from 0 to 100 in Zoom World, thanks to a superb Center for Digital Learning and Innovation (CDLI) and an incredibly supportive Information Technology (IT) team. CDLI provided simple, detailed tutorials and IT folks and the library teamed-up to make laptops available to all students and faculty. Nursing faculty selected, tested, and purchased virtual clinical simulation modules.
Interestingly, I have said “no” more times in the past month than I have in my entire 11 years as dean: “No, you may not return to your clinical site.” “No, you cannot meet with your students in the library.” “No, I cannot promise your son or daughter will be able to go to their highly coveted senior practicum in the Newborn Intensive Care Unit.” But each “No” has been met with understanding, grace, and gratitude for having received a clear answer.
Casey Feeney (above), a Seattle University (SU) nursing student, checks the vital signs of a baby simulator in SU’s Clinical Performance Lab. Feeney and her classmates had to adapt to the early outbreak of COVID-19 in Seattle, Washington. Photo courtesy of Seattle University and Yosef Chaim Kalinko.
I would love to tie this story up with a bow. I can’t. There is still so much unknown.
What I do know is this: I could not be more amazed at the courage and flexibility of our faculty, staff, and students. I could not be more grateful to Seattle University and how our administrative leaders have lived fully into our values of social justice and student-centeredness in this crisis.
Lastly, I could not be more proud and grateful to be a nurse.
Kristen M. Swanson is dean and professor of nursing at Seattle University’s College of Nursing.