I work as a specialty pharmacist at a large hospital. My team and I run a program to help patients fill prescriptions for complex or high-cost medications at our on-site specialty pharmacy every month. We schedule a delivery of their refills, review side effects or other medication changes, and assess for barriers to medication adherence. Our workflow has not changed much since the COVID-19 pandemic began; only now more of us work remotely.  One thing has changed: I’ve realized how attached I feel to my patients.

As front line Illinois healthcare professionals caring for those directly affected by COVID-19 and as alumni, faculty, and supporters of Illinois' most storied academic institutions, we strongly oppose recent statements made by Stanford's Dr. Scott Atlas, that masks are not effective at stopping viral transmission, that children cannot contract or transmit SARS-CoV-2, and that the United States should apply a “herd immunity” strategy to the COVID-19 pandemic. While he hails from the very same Illinois' institutions that we call home, his actions as the white house science advisor belie those institution’s deep-seated commitment to scientific integrity.

In March of this year, the COVID-19 pandemic brought stress and uncertainly to our healthcare system. Within the first week of the pandemic before we understood the importance of universal masking for both patients and staff, a cancer patient of mine was diagnosed with COVID-19.  This patient did not appear to present with the typical COVID-19 risk factors.  A low-income Black woman without a travel history, and she rarely went out of her home except to get groceries and to come to the clinic for her chemotherapy. I immediately realized that if this person has COVID-19, then this epidemic has taken root in the most vulnerable communities.

Practicing as an outpatient occupational therapist during the pandemic has instilled an additional appreciation for a therapist’s work and is changing the ways in which I interact with my patients. Admittedly, I had early concerns about my ability to perform job duties in the age of the modern pandemic. What is essential? We don’t provide food, water, or antibiotics. I trust that our therapists give great home programs to ensure our patients’ progress. Will our patients be okay without us for a little while? A mental pros and cons list was on a constant loop in my mind as the second half of March rocked our world. Waves of gratitude for my ability to work and fear of the unknown and our community’s safety oscillated continuously. 

As a recent medical school graduate anticipating the struggle of a rigorous intern year, my plans for the end of medical school pre-COVID consisted of travels to Bali and lavish stays in Caribbean villas. Those plans were quickly dashed, as were the celebrations surrounding match day and graduation. Moving from Houston, my hometown, for the first time in the middle of a pandemic was less than ideal, but I knew I was moving with a purpose. The University of Chicago would be the grounds on which I could refine my community service passion and the launchpad of my career as an emergency medicine physician. Additionally, in light of racial unrest leading to protests and demonstrations all around Chicago, the start to this new chapter took on a whole new meaning.

I am a critical care physician, and as I think about the initial stages of the pandemic in Chicago, three main points come to my mind:  the risk to healthcare workers in taking care of these patients, the sheer number of sick patients at any given time, and the challenges in taking care of critically ill patients without their families allowed in the hospital.    

Six months after the emergence of COVID-19, testing delays still hamper our ability to contain the pandemic. In some cases test results have taken more than a week, at which point testing becomes pointless because it's too late to make effective interventions. To expand testing capacity, the FDA recently approved the use of pooled testing for the detection of the SARS-CoV-2. Will this step finally solve the backlog in testing and help our country reign in the pandemic?  

As an oncology trainee, I have grown accustomed to talking with patients about risks and benefits. Before every cancer treatment, clinical trial, or procedure, we discuss the anticipated risks against what we believe as medical professionals to be benefits. After six months of fellowship, the scripts became part of my knowledge base, and I could easily discuss risks and benefits with most patients. But as COVID-19 cases grew, my patients and I were faced with the prospect of undergoing treatments that could make them more at risk for an infectious disease for which much was unknown and suddenly my scripts on known risks no longer applied.

Despite being around in the world of public health for decades, “contact tracing” has only become a known term for most of us as part of this pandemic. The scale needed for current tracing efforts is huge – many public health departments lacking the time and resources to hire and train thousands of workers at once have turned to third parties for help. The outsourcing or privatization of this work has come with its fair share of criticism, but in my opinion, it again is not dissimilar to the way companies turn to recruiters to outsource hiring.

The second surge of COVID-19 that was predicted after individuals across the country celebrated the Memorial Day holiday seems to have begun. Cases in Arizona have nearly doubled since the holiday weekend as hospitals in the state are reaching capacity. Oregon and Utah have paused reopening in the midst of spikes in numbers of cases and North Carolina is considering the need for a second shut down. And while the United States now has over 2 million confirmed cases of coronavirus since the start of this pandemic, the president declared victory over the pandemic last month, and his mockery of wearing a mask has led to division in this country, that is observed even within his own party. 

As an anesthesiologist, I practiced office-based anesthesia and did Medicare compliance for many years. When the pandemic hit, my clinical practice came to a grinding halt. I first spent my time learning as much as I could about SARS-CoV2. When I realized I would not be working as a physician at any time in the near future, I began to feel a sense of guilt because I was not on the front lines and I wanted to help treat people and support my profession during this public health emergency.

I started writing a Coronavirus diary on March 9, 2020. COVID-19 had already been raging through Wuhan China and Italy by that time, turning hospitals into war zones, swiftly taking the lives of older people and those with medical co-morbidities, but until then, the outbreak felt like it was happening to other people in other places.

Before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I was preparing to launch the University Blood Initiative (UBI) nationally. I have been working on the UBI for nearly 4 years because I am deeply passionate about securing the future of our nation’s blood product supply. I currently work as a project manager at the University of Chicago Medicine and am studying for the MCAT.

The good news is that everyone can fight back against the misinformation fueling the “infodemic” raging alongside the current epidemic. At the heart of the task is differentiating SOLID versus SENSATIONAL news, which can be done using three simple tips that I playfully refer to as “Lindsey’s Laws.”

Before the pandemic, I was like any other high school student: taking my classes, rehearsing lines and songs for the lead role in our school’s spring musical, and celebrating my birthday - the day school closed for what would be the rest of the year. I was frustrated, angry, and scared - but I wanted to do something to help, and making masks was something that made sense to me and my family.

I am a co-founder of GetMePPE Chicago. Our goal is to provide personal protective equipment to frontline healthcare professionals, with emphasis on community hospitals and organizations that provide care to vulnerable populations like our community members who are struggling with substance abuse disorders or experiencing homelessness.

COVID cases, deaths, and hospitalizations are on the decline in many states, including Illinois. As health care professionals we honor what the declines represent: fewer long, scary battles with this devastating virus among our chronically ill patients; lives saved. But as scientists, we simultaneously fear the rising drumbeat of voices calling for a complete and immediate “re-opening” of society. While we’d certainly prefer it to suggest otherwise, the evidence clearly indicates the need for caution.

Being a frontline doctor and staunch social distancing advocate in the time of COVID-19 can sometimes put you in an awkward position. Especially, if you’re surrounded by artists, small business owners, and other non-salaried non-essential loved ones. Sometimes it’s worse than awkward.