Making a Difference - This Photography Life

Dispatches from the Polish-Ukrainian Border

Megan Kwasniak — Wed, 13 Apr 2022 22:06:00 +0000

The dusk came quickly and it started to rain again. The chilly, damp air permeated through all my layers of clothing, sending a shiver down my spine. It was our last day at the border and we have just said our goodbyes. The orange vests we wore throughout the week were now neatly placed on the bench beside us, ready to be picked up by someone else tomorrow. We exited the tent, illuminated by the warm glow of a fireplace and into the cold, damp evening, cameras hanging from our sides. We did not want to miss any potential photo story on our way out. We stepped onto the wet ground and took the same walk we have been taking this entire week – past all the volunteer tents set up to welcome and aid the refugees, past the hot food stalls and the vet clinic. We waved good bye to the familiar faces we’ve befriended over the past few days. At the very end of the path, we came to the bus stop. We had passed it multiple times daily before and watched groups of refugees climb its steps inside. Today, someone had set up a temporary awning to protect those waiting in the rain. Just a couple of hours earlier, the awning was not there. I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly it must have been set up in response to the changing weather conditions. We were almost out of the camp and past the makeshift bus stop when something made me glance back briefly. As I turned my head, my eyes met someone else’s waiting at the top. It took me a minute to recognize the familiar face. It was a young woman whom we had treated earlier at the tent. She was barely eighteen though appearing much older, with dark hair and stark green eyes. She was bundled up from the cold and waiting for the next bus to arrive. I couldn’t help but ponder, where would it take her? At this point, I knew the options were limited. Having gotten familiar with the situation over the past seven days, I realized that she’d likely be taken to the large refugee center in Przemysl, a converted shopping mall now occupied by more than five thousand people. And from there, what next? Her future was extremely uncertain. Perhaps she had a family living somewhere in Europe and would get to meet them eventually, after a few more days of travel. Perhaps she had no one and would have to spend some time at the center, with hundreds of others who had been forced to flee their homes. I didn’t know and perhaps she didn’t either. But one thing was certain: I had a home to go back to. She did not. As our eyes met, she smiled faintly at me. I had an urge to point my camera and take a photograph – I believe she would have happily obliged. But I stopped myself. I could not get myself to do it. I desperately wanted her to know that I cared deeply about her and about her suffering. That it wasn’t just about the photograph and I worried about sending the wrong message. It was precisely a situation like hers that had brought me here, to Medyka, in the first place. Now, after a week that went by too quickly, my time volunteering was over. I was going back home. And she, like thousands of others affected by this war were stuck in the uncertain state, displaced from their homes and faraway from everything they had known their entire lives. As we drove away from the camp, my heart ached. And I questioned whether anything I had done this past week made any positive difference to those in my presence. The choice to come to Medyka at the Polish-Ukrainian border was a spontaneous one. I had plans to spend three weeks in Madrid taking dance classes at one of the studios I have been following on social media for the past several months. But as the war broke out in Ukraine, I became restless and anxious watching the situation unfold. I was also learning about the various ways the Polish nation had stepped up to help those fleeing Ukraine, including members of my own family, and so I decided to get involved as well. In a way, having the time off for a trip to Madrid made it much easier to make this happen – I could just hop on the plane and be in Poland in less than four hours. My friend Sonia, a Ukrainian whose family emigrated to the USA many years ago decided to join me on this trip as well. We arranged to stay with my family members who live relatively close to the border, driving daily each way for an hour to get to Medyka. My role as a volunteer involved staffing the medical tent which was located directly across from the actual border crossing itself. Standing just outside of it, you could watch small groups of people walk down the long path shortly after their passports had been examined. All day we heard the familiar sound of suitcase wheels rolling against the concrete ground. Our tent was the first to be seen on the Polish side of the crossing. If any of the refugees were in need of medical help, we’d be the first to provide it. Many had stopped requesting evaluation or specific medications. While most cases were not severe enough to require hospitalization, the option to call an ambulance was available to us. The biggest ailment proved to be psychological trauma, one that will certainly be the most difficult to treat and one that will remain a challenge for years to come. Sonia, speaking fluent Russian, was able to communicate with most refugees on a deeper level. She worked as a translator at the tent and took the time to talk to everyone who reached out to her. I tagged along her side at times, taking photographs and listening to people’s stories when they were willing to share them. As I write this, the war is far from over. There are new groups of refugees getting ready to cross into Poland, as Russia is planning its ongoing offensive in eastern Ukraine. Sonia is getting ready to go back to Medyka and I’m getting ready to leave Madrid. I will not be able to join her this time as I have to go back to work in the ER. Either way, the war remains deeply etched in my mind. Perhaps I’ll get to help somehow again, but for now, I’m sharing the images of the people who kindly agreed to be photographed and wanted the world to know their story. And I ask all of you reading this, please don’t forget Ukraine. She needs all the support we can give her right now.

The post Dispatches from the Polish-Ukrainian Border first appeared on This Photography Life.

The post Dispatches from the Polish-Ukrainian Border appeared first on This Photography Life.

Not to miss destinations on your short trip to Utah

Megan Kwasniak — Mon, 22 Feb 2021 00:59:03 +0000

Traveling during the pandemic has presented challenges like no other time in history. I had originally written this post mid-Covid and I feel that I didn’t give the beautiful state of Utah much justice. Who can blame me though, it was a stressful time in our history and most people were not able to focus on much else except survival 🙂 Today, as I review some of my older blog posts and update them for relevance, I decided to rewrite this one in particular and provide as much insight regarding photography in Utah as possible. To start with, Utah is a very large state and with a tremendous number of attractions and places to photograph. I feel I barely scratched the surface of what it has to offer. In this post, I will speak especially to those who can only allot a short time to visit the state and point out some of the practically guarantee places to make great photographs. Join me. The first stop on our itinerary was Zion National Park. Unfortunately, while one of the most beautiful and unique places in Utah, it is also most heavily trafficked and popular with tourists. In November, the trees were blazing yellow and the weather extremely pleasant for hiking and exploration. As usual, I took a great deal of time for wandering and aimless exploration. This usually helps me find places that are more deserted and thus less likely photographed by others. The paths less traveled almost always equal better photographic opportunities. Next, we headed towards Monument Valley, a destination I have always wanted to visit and since commencing The Red Dress Project, I had envisioned it as part of the photographic travel series. Because visiting Monument Valley was one of the top priorities of our trip, I made sure to photograph it at dusk AND dawn, even though getting up at 4AM on a cold November morning was no easy feat 🙂 Nonetheless, I highly recommend it. The dawn and dusk light imparted very different atmospheres to the scene and I still can’t decide which one I like better. Of note, the travel distances in Monument Valley were very limited due to Covid restrictions at the time and we were not actually allowed to enter into the area as is usually possible. We had to limit out exploration to the main road and while the views were still stunning, I would love to revisit for a chance of deeper exploration. On the way to the very last stop on our itinerary, we swung by Coral Pink Sand Dunes, a desert like area in the south west region of Utah that seems as if it should not belong there. Unfortunately due to time constraints, we couldn’t stay for long to watch the sunset, which would have been my personal choice. There’s nothing better that long shadows cast by the setting sun giving multiple dimensions to tiny grains of sand coming together in the form of giant dunes. Nonetheless, if you enjoy the vastness of deserts, make sure to stop by this place. Just remember to protect your gear and eyes from the harsh environment and sand which has a tendency to creep in everywhere.

The post Not to miss destinations on your short trip to Utah first appeared on This Photography Life.

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Medicine Meets Photography – Nepal 2011

Megan Kwasniak — Sun, 14 Jun 2020 22:14:32 +0000

The road became more and more bumpy as we approached our final destination. The driver came to a stop at the bottom of a steep hill. A group of local school children waved to us from an overcrowded yellow bus parked nearby. The group made its way slowly up the hill, wiping dust particles from our eyes. As usual, I stayed slightly behind, making photographs of the joyful children and deliberately taking everything in. I’ve felt overwhelmed since my arrival here few days ago, but there was no time to process anything as of yet. First Kathmandu, then my first trek ever across the Nepalese Himalayas, I knew the trip would be intense like no other before. To give a little context, I have never thought I’d be combining my love of photography with medicine. Lacking that “outsider’s perspective”, I’ve always viewed medicine (and thus my job as an Emergency Physician) as a medium somewhat devoid of color and creativity. Medicine became, after so many years of training and dedication, a duty rather than an artistic endeavor. Now, many do people believe that practicing medicine is a form of art and in a way, I agree with them. But it wasn’t something I viewed in the same way I viewed photography. The two were always strictly divided and the line was almost never crossed. I say “almost” because there were a couple of exceptions. The first exception occurred on this very trip during my third year of residency, in November of 2011. As third year residents, we had a chance to take an elective pertaining to the practice of medicine anywhere abroad. When the opportunity to traverse the Manaslu trek in the Gorkha region of Nepal presented itself, I immediately jumped on it. As part of the elective, a small group of medical students and residents would get to assess the work of an NGO providing medical assistance to the most remote regions of the Himalayas. We would also visit a few government run and private hospitals in more urban areas of Nepal prior to the trek. One of them became of special interest to me. The hospital was called Anandaban Leprosy Hospital. It was founded mainly to diagnose and treat the relatively small yet often neglected population of Nepal infected with Mycobacterium leprae. Due to the disfiguring nature of the disease, individuals affected by leprosy tend to become marginalized by their society. They suffer extreme socioeconomic consequences that extend beyond the course of their illness. We, in the developed world, may only hear of leprosy from historical or religious texts, but to many people in places like Nepal, the disease remains a tangible threat. Therefore, having the chance to visit such unique hospital, I was not only intrigued to witness the mysterious illness from my medical textbooks, my heart also leaped at the possibility of photographing it too. After securing permission from my leaders and the patients themselves, I was able to take photographs I deeply cherish to this day. For the first time ever, the marriage of photography and medicine became part of my creative world. Previously, many of the hospitals I’ve visited during my travels outside the US left an aching feeling in my chest. They were usually not the clean, brightly lit and well equipped facilities I was so used to back at home. It’s a sad reality, but access to and quality of healthcare in most developing nations is not a governmental priority and often takes a back seat to everything else. This leads to a very underfunded, overcrowded and overwhelmed medical system that struggles to deliver any kind of quality of care to its citizens. Imagine being treated in a dim, bare and overcrowded Emergency Ward where there are multiple beds placed next to each other, barely separated by a thin curtain and certainly devoid of any privacy. Perhaps the nurse that comes to start your IV doesn’t have proper gloves. Perhaps the IV fluids or the medicine you need cost more than your family can afford. Maybe the basic treatment you’ll receive will be enough, but for so many, it is not. This is the sad reality for many people across the world, constantly challenged by the lack of access or quality of medical care available to them. It is a complex issue far from being solved today. Thankfully, Anandaban Leprosy Hospital accepts support from abroad and provides respectable care to all of its patients. Not only do the ill get full medical treatment at the facility, but many continue to receive economic and social assistance after their recovery which is essential for their integration back into society. I was glad to see many smiling faces on the wards. The disease was palpably present, however, we got to meet a lot of patients who have fully recovered and are ready to go back home. During my time in Nepal, I was at the very early stages of my photographic journey. I enjoyed taking pictures and I brought my camera everywhere with me. But my photographs quite frankly, were not that good. I am not ashamed of this. I believe that we have to start somewhere and that the only thing that matters is that we keep going. If I became discouraged early on, I would have never accomplished what I have today. It’s important to honor those early days in whatever venture we set ourselves on. They define who we are later in the future. Therefore, I want to share these early images with you, from the leprosy hospital and beyond. Nepal holds a very special place in my heart and I hope to come back one day, perhaps to visit Anandaban and see the Himalayas once more. I am certain my photographs will be different then, maybe a little more refined, maybe deeper in context and meaning. Regardless, I know I’ll always look back on this trip with much nostalgia and warmth in my heart.

The post Medicine Meets Photography – Nepal 2011 first appeared on This Photography Life.

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Reports from the Frontline Part II

Megan Kwasniak — Mon, 11 May 2020 21:18:35 +0000

Sunday, April 19th, 2020 My colleagues and I have started testing ourselves for COVID antibodies. Jim had ordered these highly coveted, but not easily accessible tests from an online distributor a few weeks ago and I was surprised to find them delivered to our doorsteps so soon. Everyone got super excited about this, because the test will allow us to see if any of us have actually been exposed and developed antibodies to the virus. So far, none of my physician colleagues and mid-level providers have had symptoms of COVID and for that I am extremely grateful. But at the same time, I’ve been hopeful for some glimpse of immunity… The test looks a lot like a store bought pregnancy test, except you are using blood serum instead of urine. You have to obtain a small amount of blood and drop it into an appropriate slot on the plastic rectangle, followed by two drops of provided buffer. You then wait ten minutes for optimum results. I got to be the very first person to get tested. As I watched the line of buffer and blood move slowly across the white strip, I felt anxiety rising in my chest. What if it showed antibodies for immunity but also presence of potential virus in my body? I have not been feeling sick, but part of me always worries that I may be a carrier…The test, however, did not show any of that. It came out to be completely negative. Even though slightly disappointing, the results confirmed (in a way) that I have been wearing my PPE appropriately all this time and taking all the necessary precautions not to get exposed. That in itself is reassuring. Monday, April 20th, 2020 The test has become super popular lately and I’ve tested a good number of friends and family for corona antibodies. A touching story about this: a health care worker I know came to me requesting to get tested. She recently became a grandmother for the second time, but has not been able to meet this baby grandchild as of yet. She has been meeting the newborn by the window of her son’s house, unable to touch or hold her, for the fear of infecting her or spreading the virus. This has been really difficult on her and everyone in the family. So when she finally got tested and it came back completely negative, tears welled up in her eyes. The resultant plain white strip with no other visible lines except control reassured her that she at least is not an active carrier at this time. And with no additional scheduled hospital shift this week, she’ll be meeting her baby granddaughter for the first time this weekend! It was such a touching moment to experience. Who would have thought that a a test like this and a drop of blood can hold such power in people’s lives? What strange times we are living in… Thursday, April 23rd, 2020 Today was a big day for me. For the first time ever, I had been interviewed for two different podcasts, a photography podcast and a lifestyle podcast. Both of these are pretty well known in the podcast world and both invitations came pretty unexpectedly. The first one, the photography podcast known as The Candid Frame I have known and listened to for a long time. Its author and photographer himself, th great Ibarionex, had reached out to me a few weeks earlier and commented on some of my photos from the COVID project. I, in turn, humbly offered to get interviewed, which he gladly accepted. The second podcast, known as Listen Hunnay is the prodigy of Jeannie Mai whom I admit I did not know before, but who found me through Instagram hashtags and invited me to the show. Come to think of it, some pretty great things have happened to me specifically through Instagram…Social media can be such a powerful thing in many ways. The interviews were scheduled for 7 and 8PM. So at 6:30PM I chose one of my favorite dresses to wear, put on my red lipstick and sat in front of my laptop waiting for the recording to start. I believe dressing the part, even if you’re going to be recorded in the comforts of your own home, really makes a difference in the final outcome. And I’m really glad I did dress the part as the podcasters were able to see me and recorded me on video camera 🙂 Both talks turned out wonderful and felt more like a conversation than a formal interview. I got to speak a little about medicine and, in the case of the first one, a lot about photography. We specifically discussed this project, Reports from the Frontline, how it came about and where it’s heading. It was a real pleasure to be the guest on both shows. I cannot wait for the final recordings to come out. Friday, April 24th, 2020 Every time I see an X-Ray of COVID pneumonia in one of my patient’s, I get a little sinking feeling inside. The “bilateral fluffy infiltrates” has become almost an identifying factor in persons in whom we suspect the disease. This sign usually indicates an advancing disease and impending hypoxia – low oxygen levels in the person’s blood. The infiltrates can occur in anyone presenting with the disease: the young, the old, the cardiac or asthma patient…The level of “white out” varies among individuals and the outcome can be unpredictable. Some people continue to drop their oxygen levels and have to be moved to the ICU, placed on their abdomens to improve oxygenation to the lowest and deepest parts of their lungs. Some end up on ventilators and oftentimes never make it. To whom this will most likely happen we never really know. COVID 19 has proven to be a wild and capricious beast, one that is capable of destroying everything in its path despite our best efforts. This unpredictability and viciousness has been the most anxiety-provoking aspect of it all. Will this ever change? I am not sure. I do know that faced with this beast head on, physicians all over the world have been relentless in combining efforts and their on going experience to come up with the most effective methods to manage the disease. It’s a work in progress, an evolving matter. The approach changes all the time. What we thought worked well in the beginning often turns out no longer applicable. But I feel as though we get more efficient every day. This, combined with a potential vaccine, will most definitely change the course of the pandemic. I’m hoping that in a few years to come, this will all be merely like the seasonal flu, or rather a cold, the one we all get at some point but barely even remember. Or, even better yet, this will all be nothing but a sad yet distant memory. Monday, April 27th, 2020 This morning I decided to catch up on the news a little, since I have been avoiding it for the past several days. I tried to click only on the titles that seemed to deliver facts, not opinions and that did not sound like the doom and gloom we normally see. The theme seems to be that in the upcoming days, the world will slowly start re-opening. Small business are going to start taking in their customers, restaurants will allow seating inside, sports team will again begin practicing in the stadiums…I’m feeling slightly conflicted about this. Part of me really, really wants to go back to our “normal” lives. I miss hanging out with my friends, going out for brunch, not to mention dancing…But the biggest concern remains: will corona blow up again once we return to normal activities? Will we continue to spread the virus at the same rate we had been before we implemented the quarantine? Are we going to have to wear masks and “elbow bump” instead of hug each other for the indefinite time to come? So many questions remain. Of course we cannot stay in quarantine forever. There must come a time when we finally go back to living our lives…I just truly hope that the virus won’t come back with a vengeance :/ Saturday, May 2nd, 2020 Last night, as I was heading in to work, I encountered a man at the physician parking lot, looking up at the hospital building and waving. You could barely make out the shadow of the person he was waving at, standing in one of the top floor windows. I asked him who he was trying to wave to. “Oh, it’s my wife,” he said. “She’s been admitted for a few days now and even though I am not allowed to visit her, I come here every afternoon so we can see each other through the window.” He was wearing headphones and chatting with her at the same time. My heart sank a little bit. This has been one of the most difficult aspects of this pandemic – families unable to see each other once a one of them gets admitted to the hospital. So many patients have died alone, their families unable to say good bye, to hold their hand while they take their last breath…I cannot imagine the psychological impact this will have for months to come. It is something I think a lot about and have a hard time to come to grips with. It sounded as this man’s wife was going to be fine and will reunite with him soon enough, but for many, this has not been the case. Not being able to say good bye must be one of the most difficult things any human being can go through. In the last several days, despite the no visitor policy adopted across the hospitals in the nation, we have been letting families come and say good bye to the patients who died in our ED due to non COVID related causes. I keep my 6 feet physical distance to deliver the grueling news of a loved one dying, but I try not to keep the mask on when I say it. It is difficult enough to say something like this to the hopeful family members, it feels inhumane to mumble it behind my thick, impenetrable N95. I don’t want to have to repeat those difficult words because my voice sounds muffled, I want to deliver the message clearly and let the process of grieving begin right there and then. I’m glad that when the question “Can I see him/her?” finally comes, I can say, yes of course, you can definitely do so.” As I gathered my shift essentials from the car, I wished the man and his ill wife speedy recovery and a prompt reunion. He sounded hopeful and thanked me for being on the frontlines and for helping people like his wife. In return I appreciated his gratitude. In the end, this couple is one of the lucky ones. So many will not get to reunite, to hold each other again, to express love and appreciation for one another…The truth is, we on the frontlines are witnesses to such situations all year round, whether there is a pandemic or not. Accidents happen, people die unexpectedly, lives are forever changed in one minute. But never before have we witnessed this at such magnitude and frequency as during the COVID crisis. Seeing this every single day, several times a day can be incredibly taxing on the heart and spirit, even for the most hardened physicians. COVID is not leaving us unscathed and it will take a while to heal the wounds…

The post Reports from the Frontline Part II first appeared on This Photography Life.

The post Reports from the Frontline Part II appeared first on This Photography Life.

Reports from the Frontline

Megan Kwasniak — Thu, 16 Apr 2020 22:23:13 +0000

Monday, March 9th, 2020 It’s hard to believe that just few days ago I came back from Cuba. The trip, as wonderful as it was, is suddenly feeling like a distant memory. As much as I’m trying to keep it cool and composed, there are moments when I get overcome with anxiety. The talk of the world is nothing but Corona. The number of COVID cases in the USA are rising and our conversations at work are becoming more and more about what to do when we get a surge of sick patients and how to preserve our PPE (Personal Protective Equipment) should it become scarce. This is definitely the biggest concern for doctors and nurses throughout the country right now. Our Whatsapp work group has been exploding recently. We talk about everything. We’re sharing our personal worries and concerns, exchange COVID stories from the media and bring up possible plans for action for our busy ED. Among the serious conversations dominating the group, someone sends a meme that makes me laugh quietly. I welcome the comic relief; without it I feel as if my mind would explode. But the overall mood is not jovial. We are learning of other health care workers throughout the country and beyond who have already been exposed to the virus and tested positive. Many physicians report in social media groups that they have likely treated positive COVID patients but were not able to test them, as the patients did not meet the current criteria for testing. We do not have proper testing procedures and not enough test kits in this country and this upsets me tremendously. Everyone in health care is at least a little bit worried at this point and most of us feel lost and unsure on how to proceed, especially since there are no clear recommendations provided to us at this time. Everything seems to be a work in progress. In situations like this one, you have to be open minded and quick to adapt to ever changing guidelines. We are hearing reports that Italy has closed its borders completely as they lose more patients daily. This is starting to feel a little bit surreal. Saturday, March 21st, 2020 I feel uneasy today, because I decided to purchase my own N95 masks which someone is selling for $80 per box, way over their usual price. The person quoted me for three boxes and I went with it, which came out to be $240 for 60 masks total. Jim (my partner) is unhappy about it, calling it “price gouging” and of course he is right about this. But I am doing this for my own sanity. Our biggest concern as ED physicians has been the possible lack of PPE and I just don’t want to have to face this situation. I feel like everyone is making preparations and I don’t want to be the last naïve doc left without any PPE because I did not think ahead of time. For some, this is a simple issue: if no one provides them with PPE, they will not be able to take care of patients. For me, this has more to do with having control over something in this crazy situation versus being at the mercy of others. Of course I want to do my job properly, of course I want to show up and serve those that need me the most. But I also want to be protected. If we do run out of PPE, what will we do? If we get sick, we cannot help anyone else. I don’t want to end up in such situation. I rather prepare ahead of time. This is what we, Emergency Physicians, are great at: anticipating potentially serious situations, preparing ahead of time to mitigate them and then responding to the best of our ability in the moment they happen. In this way, COVID is no different than any other situation we face in the ER on a daily basis. My phone today became a source of PTSD. Whether it’s social media or the news, the information currently being posted is incredibly stressful and anxiety provoking, especially FB and the media. Ironically, posts from distraught docs are a temporary bandaid to my feelings of isolation and loneliness, but after several minutes of scrolling I can feel my heart rate increase dramatically and my overall sense of uneasiness taking over. When my phone died today in the middle of a conversation with an anxious friend, I actually felt relieved and decided to leave it in another room for an undetermined period of time. This would normally be unheard of as I am attached to my phone like a calf to its mother. But in this situation I am putting strict restrictions on myself regarding the news, social media and actually anything corona related. Preserving my sanity truly relies on this. Sunday, March 22nd, 2020 This afternoon I went to pick up the newly purchased masks. The seller asked me to meet him at a parking lot of a popular restaurant in the neighboring town. When I arrived, this restaurant, as most others, was closed and the parking lot deserted. It felt a little strange to be buying something from a complete stranger, at a deserted parking lot…Strange times call for strange measures I guess. He pulled up next to me in his car, took out several boxes out of his trunk and handed over the sixty masks without any issues. I feel relieved and super glad that I bought them. Somewhere in the back of my mind I feel much calmer now knowing that if we truly are hit like a wave and find ourselves without any PPE, I can reach for this emergency supply and help my colleagues too. I have to work a night shift tonight (6pm-6am) and I’m feeling a bit apprehensive about it, but I’m also hoping to interview some of my colleagues and perhaps take a few photographs. I believe this particular time we find ourselves in is history in the making and must be documented as we see it… Thursday, March 26th It’s amazing what a difference a few solid hours of sleep can make. Over the past several days, I have not been able to sleep well at night and kept dreaming about Covid. In addition, if I wake up in the middle of the night with a slightly dry throat, I immediately think I’ve contracted the virus. “So this is it, this is how it starts,” my mind tells me, taking me to the darkest places of my subconscious. I have trouble falling back asleep after that for a while. Last night however, I was able to get some proper rest and woke up feeling rejuvenated and ready to face whatever I needed to face this day. I felt more energized and joyful at the little things: my favorite music, a delicious smoothie I made at home, my sweet pups’ kisses. In this better state of mind, I am better able to serve my patients and to support my team. I must protect this state of mind at all costs. As part of keeping my sanity, I have started to limit my social media time and my consumption of the news. I now believe a healthy dose of no more than 30 minutes a day is sufficient. The rest I try to spend doing other things, like writing these thoughts down for example. I feel much, much better this way. April 2nd, 2020 I haven’t written anything down in this journal for a while. Perhaps because I had a few days off from work and took the time to clear my mind and stay off the corona topic entirely. Today I peaked at the news again. We have now exceeded 1 million cases of confirmed COVID infections throughout the world. China is no longer the leader in this. United States has taken that position, followed by Italy, Spain and now even Germany. I am wondering how much higher these numbers will rise…I’m tempted to place bets, but I don’t want to make light out of this situation. Sometimes it feels like the apocalypse has come and it will destroy the world as we know it. If it doesn’t end it, it will change it for sure. Reports coming from New York are absolutely heartbreaking. I talk with my physician colleagues and friends from the area on regular basis. Despite the dire conditions in their already overcrowded EDs, they remain super strong and keep showing up in good spirits! They are working in an incredibly tough environment, seeing hundreds of COVID patients a day, a significant number of which are very ill and admitted to the ICU. There are special morgues set up just outside the hospitals to store the growing number of patients that had succumbed to the illness. I can vividly imagine what is going on there, because I had lived and trained in New York City for 14 years of my life. The city is close to my heart. At times, I feel a mixture of guilt and shame for not being there right now to help. We don’t have it as bad here in Florida, at least not yet. We are seeing patients, but the overall volume of people seen in the ED has decreased somewhat. Most people are afraid to come to the hospital at this time and rightly so. We appreciate all those who are taking the quarantine seriously. Social isolation seems to be the only way so far to combat the virus. On a positive note, local communities nation wide have shown tremendous support for health care workers everywhere. We have restaurants dropping off free meals for us and local churches offering prayer (and snacks!) to get us through the day. In big cities like New York, there are cheers and applause heard throughout the city, as residents show up at 7PM to support all health care workers on the frontlines of the pandemic. I must say, for the first time since becoming a physician, I feel appreciated and know that my presence actually matters. I feel tremendous gratitude for the community standing behind us and cheering us on. April 7th, 2020 We have set up a system to help with the process of seeing potential COVID patients in our ED. I know a lot of people have been working hard behind the scenes to streamline and make this as efficient as possible. We currently have a special tent set up outside that accommodates all the potential, but not critically ill corona patients. If someone is noted to be very sick, they come inside the ED and are placed in negative pressure rooms to minimize exposure to others. This model has been implemented in many hospitals across the country and it works very well in my opinion. I am incredibly glad my hospital made this plan come to life as well. In terms of my shifts, we are seeing increasing numbers of COVID cases, but the overall volume is not overwhelming. Adherence to social isolation rules and avoiding the Emergency Room unless absolutely necessary is contributing to this volume drop and making it easier for us to take care of COVID patients as we have more time to devote to their care. I must say, I never knew how much time donning on and donning off the entire PPE takes. In order to do it properly, you have to follow proper procedures and be extremely careful not to self contaminate during the process. This can become very time consuming, especially with back to back patients. I believe that this is one of the reasons why so many health care workers on the frontlines have contracted corona virus across the world. During times of chaos, it is very easy to become complacent and screw up this meticulous procedure, putting yourself greatly at risk. This is why the lower ED volumes help us out in the end. April 15th, 2020 I must admit, I am doing a lot better mentally these days. I am not sure what it is, perhaps a combination of having enough PPE at this point and feeling more confident “on the frontlines” (aka the ED) as well as taking proper care of my mental well being, both at work and at home when I am off. Limiting my news and social media time has had the greatest positive impact I believe. It is not that I am against social media, quite on the contrary. Social media is what allows me to stay connected, to share my story such as this one, to find inspiration from others…But unfortunately, whenever I scroll, I see that negativity in that space is much more prevalent than anything else, so limiting my exposure and being selective about how much time I spend online has helped preserve my sanity tremendously. The volume in the ED remains low, which is a sign that people continue to social distance and stay at home, taking the quarantine seriously. That re-assures me and I appreciate all those who are doing their part. I am certain it is not easy to do this, especially that we do not know how much longer the pandemic will last. Everyone is fighting their own battle, everyone has to overcome different obstacles in this fight against corona. Knowing that we are in this together is the silver lining in this situation. Something good yet unexpected has happened yesterday: a box of COVID antibody test kits arrived at our house with the morning mail. Jim had purchased it few weeks ago online, but due to its demand, I didn’t think we would get it so soon. More curious than anything, myself and a few colleagues performed the test on ourselves at work. The kit looks a bit like a store bought pregnancy test: you have to obtain a sample of blood, drop it into the appropriate slot on the kit followed by two drops of serum and then watch it slowly move across the strip until it hits the control line. When the control line changes from blue to red, you know that at least the test has been done correctly. Anyway, this antibody test can show you whether you have current exposure to corona and/or whether you have the antibodies to it or not. So far I have neither corona nor the antibodies. At least this reassures me that I have been wearing my PPE correctly 🙂 With that thought in mind, I am off to my shift, ready to face whatever comes my way. I hope that no matter what, I am able to help somebody or at least inspire somebody to stay strong and to keep fighting the good fight. Whether we like it or not, we are witnesses to history in the making. Eventually this too shall pass, as nothing lasts forever. And what we can hope for is that when we do come out of this, we come out stronger and changed for the better.

The post Reports from the Frontline first appeared on This Photography Life.

The post Reports from the Frontline appeared first on This Photography Life.

Nicaragua in crisis: What Can You Do to Help

Megan Kwasniak — Mon, 23 Jul 2018 03:54:32 +0000

The sun is getting low in the sky as we near the end of our last home visit. The girls are excited to show us their notebooks. Jim and I flip through the pages of perfectly lined up sentences and neatly arranged numbers. “What’s your favorite subject?” I ask the younger sister through our translator, as my Spanish is to this day very poor. “Math” she responds shyly. Both girls are doing incredibly well in school in all of the subjects and their mother cannot hide the pride in her voice. We scan the small dark room where the family conducts most of their activities. The floor is nothing but hard clay and there are only bare necessities here, but it’s a cheerful atmosphere overall. We step outside and I take a family photo in their small front yard; I show them my LCD and the girls wave happily goodbye. It’s July 2017 and we are visiting Nicaragua, the rather quiet, but colorful town of Granada. This is my second visit to the country and I’m delighted to be part of the girls’ success story. They are sponsored by Empowerment International (EI), a non-profit we are now proudly a small part of. Thanks to the organization and through individual sponsorships, young girls and boys of Granada and nearby communities are given a chance at a better life through education, after school programs and mentoring. The success stories are numerous and several of the children have now moved on to either well paying jobs or a university level education. This, in a country like Nicaragua, is no small feat at all. But you may ask why I am bringing this up now. I wrote about my trip to Nicaragua back in 2016. So why am I writing about it again? Plain truth is this: Nicaragua is in trouble. The civil unrest that has plagued the country since April of this year is nothing short of astonishing. The country is in political disaster and, as in most cases of struggle for power, civilians are gravely affected. What’s even worse is that Nicaraguan crisis has not received its fair share of coverage in the international media. Most of us are completely unaware of what is going on over there unless we know someone who has been directly affected. I was even surprised to find out that tourists who have recently visited the more remote parts of the country were completely oblivious to what has been going on in the streets of Managua and beyond. And yet…Nicaraguans are suffering and their future is highly uncertain. The already fragile economy is currently in shambles. Inflation is on the rise, business are letting go of their employees and tourism is on a steady decline. All of these factors negatively affect the general population. I think of the girls whose home I visited that hot July day last year and of all their friends who are likely struggling more now than ever. I look at the photographs of the proud, smiling faces I have met and my heart is heavy with sadness. I cannot help but wonder, where are they now? How are they spending their days? Will I be ever able to visit them again? My heart breaks and I feel powerless. But there are things we CAN do to help. First and foremost, we can become educated on what is going on and spread awareness. I believe that the bigger the outcry from the general population, the more likely the international community will finally wake up and take action. The world is now more connected than ever and the information is available for those seeking it. As I google most recent news on Nicaragua and watch videos some of the bravest people have released to social media risking everything including their lives, I cannot help but to share my part and to say a prayer for the safe and free future of the Nicaraguan people. Second of all, we can support organizations working on the ground in Nicaragua who help some of the most impoverished populations. One of those organizations is EI, which is relentlessly operating to keep the children in school and is now looking to provide them with at least one healthy meal a day as the economy plummets, severely impacting these already vulnerable families and children. Having seen EI’s work first hand over the past couple of years, I can vouch for its rectitude and its efficiency. EI has also started several additional initiatives such as First Aid training for community members and emotional support systems for families going through these very challenging times. For more info, visit Empowerment International But EI is not the only organization worth supporting. Another non profit we got to know first hand while visiting Granada is Tio Antonio The group does amazing work with handicapped youth and adults in Nicaragua. Their aid model relies on visitors purchasing hand made hammocks thus providing jobs for the most vulnerable in the community. Tio Antonio also ran a restaurant which has had to close since the situation in Granada worsened. Lastly, if you want contribute and learn Spanish at the same time, you can take private online classes with La Mariposa Spanish School .How awesome it would be to learn another language and contribute to a social cause at the same time? During my research on recent events in Nicaragua, I came upon With Many Roots blog authored by Sophia Cheng. She is a wonderful writer who has complied a list of the various organizations and financial initiatives on the ground in Granada and I kindly ask you check them out too. Sophia wrote an excellent post about the situation in Nicaragua and I’m totally deferring to her for more information. She is also asking a question that really hit me tonight: “Do we as tourists have a moral obligation to offer support (financial or otherwise) to the countries that we’ve visited?” Is it ethical of us to enjoy everything a country has to offer, including its food, its hospitality and the natural wonders we often explore, but then to forget about all of that as soon as some sort of crisis hits the region? It’s a tough question to answer and I will leave it at that for a while. As an avid and frequent traveler, I’m pretty sure you all know what my personal answer to this is. http://www.withmanyroots.com/blog/what-s-going-on-in-nicaragua This situation makes me think about one last thing too: you never really know whether the place you long to see will always be safe and available for you to visit. As history has shown, anything can happen anywhere and a country that is seemingly safe and welcoming today may suddenly close its doors due to political upheaval or even a horrific natural disaster from which it takes years to recover. So my point today and always is this: buy that plane ticket, take that trip. You never know if you’ll get a chance again.

The post Nicaragua in crisis: What Can You Do to Help first appeared on This Photography Life.

The post Nicaragua in crisis: What Can You Do to Help appeared first on This Photography Life.

By the Syrian Border…

Megan Kwasniak — Thu, 05 Oct 2017 02:22:12 +0000

I have waited way too long to share this post with you and I am not really sure why. Part of it was the hectic days that followed my trip to Lebanon, an almost immediate departure on our trip to Nicaragua, followed by hurricane Irma and then the post-hurricane mayhem at work in the ED. But in the end it all boils down to the fact that I’ve avoided sitting my butt down and actually writing what I’ve been wanting to write and sharing the images I’ve been wanting to share. Blame it on my laziness! However, in the end, since I do love sharing my photographic stories, I just couldn’t put this off any longer. To start off, arriving at the refugee camps felt quite surreal to me. The particular site we visited was literally right outside the Syrian border. I just couldn’t believe how close we’ve gotten to the place that’s been frequenting the media in the recent years – and not in a positive way. But as with almost every encounter on this trip, the proximity of Syria turned out not to be a terrifying experience at all. As a matter of fact, we stopped for a latte at a completely modern Starbucks café just couple of miles from the border. A group of young, stylish twenty something year olds were sitting at the outside table, sipping espressos and sharing cigarettes. For a moment I felt I was in the US and not in the Middle East next to a war torn country. The camps looked exactly like I had imaged them to look – small groups of tarp tents clustered together alongside a dirt road. It was incredibly hot and dusty on the way there and I felt very grateful for the AC in my friend’s car. Almost as soon as we got out of the vehicle, we got surrounded by a large group of children. Everyone seemed excited to see us. We first met with the camp’s chief to asses the biggest needs of this particular camp. We had a translator with us, but I just couldn’t focus on the conversation. Feeling slightly overwhelmed and yet incredibly excited at being there, I kept running possible images in my head, images that I couldn’t wait to start making. It’s just the way I am when photographing in a new and exciting place: I can barely focus on anything else. Fortunately soon enough I was able to just start shooting. In addition to my Nikon DSLR, I had also brought two Fuji Instax cameras to the camps with me, because I wanted to leave something tangible with the people who let me photograph them; sort of a thank you token in a form of a Polaroid snapshot. As I started to make my first “regular” photographs inside the main tent, Monia took out the Instax. And of course that’s when all the mayhem started! The kids LOVED the Instax camera! Everyone tried to get in front of it. I brought a lot of film with me, but we were going through it faster than expected. At some point we had to put it away I my backpack to take a break from the swarms of children fighting each other to get in front of the Instax lens. It was madness! A good madness, as I may say, but madness regardless. Thankfully, despite the preoccupation with the Instax camera, I had no trouble finding subjects for my “regular” photographs. I wanted to focus on capturing portraits and that is precisely what I did I was very lucky, because the light inside the tents was absolutely beautiful. The diffuse open shade underneath partial covering is perfect for capturing portraits. I did not need any special speed lights, diffusers or fill ins. This natural diffused light produced catch lights in the eyes and added a wonderful warm glow to all the faces. I tried to take as many portraits as possible inside these makeshift homes. We also photographed outside the tents, but the light was a bit too direct and too harsh for my personal taste. I could see the potential of the photographs taken at a different time of the day. I imagined the setting sun behind the mountains, the backlight dirt roads glowing in the distance…I will have to come back to capture such images at another time. The few hours we spent at the camps were incredibly emotionally and physically exhausting to me. I focused mostly on photography, because my main reason for being there was to bring back images for an upcoming fundraiser. A fundraiser that will ultimately help the people that welcomed me and my camera into their lives, however briefly. To be completely honest though, I wish I had more time to spend with the Syrian people. I’ll be the first to admit that you cannot create a meaningful body of work by spending minimal amount of time with the subjects you are photographing. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take what I can and make the absolute best of it – regardless of time, circumstances or any constraints. But I do wish I could have talked to the people more, not just to photograph them. I wish I could hear their story as it comes from their heart. To learn more about their dreams and hopes for the future…Conversations like these take time and patience. As I looked into the faces of the smiling children, I hoped for a better future for them regardless of where they may end up. So much of what happens to us in life is a result of the circumstances we were born into. A girl born in a remote Syrian village or a refugee camp may never have the same opportunities as a girl born in a European city, for example. And children displaced by war are much less likely to get proper education and more likely to be recruited into extremist groups, whose empty promises for a better life are not far in between. In this way, the refugee crisis affects all of us in one way or another, regardless of how far we may live from the camps and the people who occupy them. I have no regrets regarding my trip to Lebanon. In fact, I wouldn’t hesitate to travel there again. I would love to return to the camps and to explore the entire country more, especially the city of Beirut. Before I had agreed to go there, I knew absolutely nothing about the place. All I knew was its location in the Middle East and the stories I’ve created in my head about how dangerous it is. And judging by the conversations I’ve had with family and friends, I was not the only one who felt this way. If there’s anything I’ve learned from this experience is to never, ever judge a place before I do my research on it and actually decide to visit it. I used to consider myself a pretty well rounded and open traveler, but now I know that I still have a lot of places to visit before I can consider myself as such. And what about you guys? What has been the most challenging trip or encounter you have experienced that has completely changed your outlook on the place or event? Let me know in the comments or message me – I’d love to hear your story…

The post By the Syrian Border… first appeared on This Photography Life.

The post By the Syrian Border… appeared first on This Photography Life.