truthout--2020-05-14--Wisconsin Is “Wild West” After Supreme Court Ruling Against Shelter-in-Place

A ruling from the state Supreme Court in Wisconsin on Wednesday has effectively ended Gov .
Tony Evers ’ s stay-at-home order throughout the entire state .
The court ruled that the governor and the Department of Health Services had overstepped their bounds and had not followed a rulemaking process in issuing social distancing edicts several weeks ago to address the spread of coronavirus within the state .
The narrow decision saw four of the state ’ s five conservative-bloc justices deciding against the order , with the fifth conservative joining two liberal justices in dissenting .
The court ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ any new rules for the state , and requires the governor to follow a strict and laborious rulemaking process .
Even if the governor decides to issue new guidelines , doing so by the standards imposed by the court could take weeks , Evers said .
The Democratic governor derided the Republicans who brought forward the lawsuit in the first place , as well as the court ’ s decision , believing it to be errant .
“ Wisconsin Republican legislators and those four Supreme Court justices decided that facts don ’ t @ @ @ @ @ @ @ matter , ” Evers said .
He further described the ruling as throwing the state into “ chaos , ” comparing Wisconsin ’ s present situation as akin to being in the “ Wild West.
” Republican lawmakers had actually asked for a six-day stay of the ruling if they prevailed in order to have an easier transition and to come up with a compromise with the governor .
But confusion in the court ’ s ruling , stemming from an oddly worded concurring opinion from Chief Justice Patience Roggensack , caused there @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I would stay future actions to enforce our decision until May 20 , 2020 , ” Roggensack wrote , not explicitly saying that a stay was part of her ruling .
“ However , I trust that the parties will place the interests of the people of Wisconsin first and work together in good faith to quickly establish a rule that best addresses COVID-19 and its devastating effects on Wisconsin.
” Even other conservatives on the bench were confused by Roggensack ’ s ruling .
“ Chief Justice Roggensack needs to clarify in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not voting for a stay of the majority ’ s decision… .
In a court of seven , it takes four votes to form a controlling majority on an issue , ” fellow conservative Justice Rebecca Bradley wrote in her concurring opinion .
“ Chief Justice Roggensack provides the fourth vote to form a majority denying a stay .
Without her vote , there would be only three votes and the declaration of rights would not have immediate effect.
” In spite of the confusion resulting in the immediate end to social distancing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ forward praised the decision .
Assembly Speaker Robin Vos and Senate Majority Leader Scott Fitzgerald wrote in a joint statement that they agreed with the ruling , and suggested it wouldn ’ t result in a spread of COVID-19 across the state .
“ This ( court decision ) does not promote people to act in a way that they believe endangers their health , ” the two said .
Yet images online and calls to action from commerce groups seemed to suggest otherwise .
The Tavern League of Wisconsin — a group @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for instance , told members that they could “ open immediately ” after the state Supreme Court ruling was issued on Wednesday .
Many bars across the state did just that , and images on social media showcased how social distancing rules ( including keeping patrons six feet apart or encouraging the use of masks ) were being ignored .
The court ’ s ruling goes against the viewpoints of most Wisconsinites .
According to a Marquette Law School poll released just this past week , nearly 7 in 10 people in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ close schools and businesses , and to implement other social distancing rules , was the appropriate response to the pandemic .
Fifty-six percent of participants in the poll also said they were more worried the state was going to open up too soon rather than reopen too slowly .
The decision to reopen the state does not limit local governments of cities , townships or counties from enforcing their own stay-at-home measures .
Many took swift action Wednesday night after the ruling was rendered establishing the state ’ s previous guidelines for their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ residents would remain safe from the virus .

Most Wisconsinites agreed with the governor’s actions when it came to social distancing, recent polling found.
A ruling from the state Supreme Court in Wisconsin on Wednesday has effectively ended Gov. Tony Evers’s stay-at-home order throughout the entire state.
The court ruled that the governor and the Department of Health Services had overstepped their bounds and had not followed a rulemaking process in issuing social distancing edicts several weeks ago to address the spread of coronavirus within the state.
The narrow decision saw four of the state’s five conservative-bloc justices deciding against the order, with the fifth conservative joining two liberal justices in dissenting.
The court’s ruling does not put into place any new rules for the state, and requires the governor to follow a strict and laborious rulemaking process. Even if the governor decides to issue new guidelines, doing so by the standards imposed by the court could take weeks, Evers said.
The Democratic governor derided the Republicans who brought forward the lawsuit in the first place, as well as the court’s decision, believing it to be errant.
“Wisconsin Republican legislators and those four Supreme Court justices decided that facts don’t matter, the statutes don’t matter,” Evers said. He further described the ruling as throwing the state into “chaos,” comparing Wisconsin’s present situation as akin to being in the “Wild West.”
Republican lawmakers had actually asked for a six-day stay of the ruling if they prevailed in order to have an easier transition and to come up with a compromise with the governor. But confusion in the court’s ruling, stemming from an oddly worded concurring opinion from Chief Justice Patience Roggensack, caused there to be no stay established.
“I would stay future actions to enforce our decision until May 20, 2020,” Roggensack wrote, not explicitly saying that a stay was part of her ruling. “However, I trust that the parties will place the interests of the people of Wisconsin first and work together in good faith to quickly establish a rule that best addresses COVID-19 and its devastating effects on Wisconsin.”
Even other conservatives on the bench were confused by Roggensack’s ruling.
“Chief Justice Roggensack needs to clarify in an opinion whether she is or is not voting for a stay of the majority’s decision…. In a court of seven, it takes four votes to form a controlling majority on an issue,” fellow conservative Justice Rebecca Bradley wrote in her concurring opinion. “Chief Justice Roggensack provides the fourth vote to form a majority denying a stay. Without her vote, there would be only three votes and the declaration of rights would not have immediate effect.”
In spite of the confusion resulting in the immediate end to social distancing provisions, Republicans who brought the lawsuit forward praised the decision. Assembly Speaker Robin Vos and Senate Majority Leader Scott Fitzgerald wrote in a joint statement that they agreed with the ruling, and suggested it wouldn’t result in a spread of COVID-19 across the state.
“This (court decision) does not promote people to act in a way that they believe endangers their health,” the two said.
Yet images online and calls to action from commerce groups seemed to suggest otherwise. The Tavern League of Wisconsin — a group that donates heavily to Republican candidates — for instance, told members that they could “open immediately” after the state Supreme Court ruling was issued on Wednesday.
Many bars across the state did just that, and images on social media showcased how social distancing rules (including keeping patrons six feet apart or encouraging the use of masks) were being ignored.
45 minutes after the bars open in Wisconsin…. pic.twitter.com/xqaDlS6ajP — Nick's bar (@nicksonsec) May 14, 2020
The court’s ruling goes against the viewpoints of most Wisconsinites. According to a Marquette Law School poll released just this past week, nearly 7 in 10 people in the state said Evers’s decision to close schools and businesses, and to implement other social distancing rules, was the appropriate response to the pandemic. Fifty-six percent of participants in the poll also said they were more worried the state was going to open up too soon rather than reopen too slowly.
The decision to reopen the state does not limit local governments of cities, townships or counties from enforcing their own stay-at-home measures. Many took swift action Wednesday night after the ruling was rendered establishing the state’s previous guidelines for their own jurisdictions in order to ensure their residents would remain safe from the virus.
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truthout--2020-05-14--Amid Pandemic, Everyone Should Be Deemed “Essential” — and Protected as Such

“ When he first came home , it was tough.
” So Aleha , the wife of an airman in Colorado , told me .
She was describing her family ’ s life since her husband , who lives with chronic depression , completed a partial hospitalization program and , in March , along with other members of his unit , entered a pandemic lockdown .
He was now spending full days at home with her and their four children , which offered needed family time and rest from the daily rigors of training .
Yet the military ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Aside from weekly online sessions with his therapist ( the third the military had assigned him in so many weeks ) , Aleha was left to provide her husband with needed emotional support , while homeschooling their older children and caring for their toddler .
Her husband , like the other 1.3 million active-duty service members in the United States , faces what most of the rest of the country is facing : orders to stay at home and distance themselves from those outside their households to prevent the spread of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 82,000 Americans and more than 295,000 people worldwide .
Yet there ’ s something distinctive about what members of the American military ( whose suicide rates now surpass civilian ones ) face : the stress posed by the threat of the most literal “ front-line service ” in these times of endless war and pandemic .
They find themselves in uniform in an era of more frequent deployments and longer training days .
Even in pre-pandemic times , they needed the support of psychiatrists and therapists like me and of their military community @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mental-health problems has often been to coach them on what not to say to avoid being medically disqualified from duty .
Troops and their families have needed access to supportive social groups , including religious ones , antidepressants and other mood medications , and off-base mental-health providers who can counsel them in a more unbiased way .
In many cases , they also need access to inpatient facilities for when the going gets really rough .
In the past months , daily life for our troops and their families has been transformed in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , many new recruits are now quarantined when they arrive at military bases .
Physical training is staggered and conducted in smaller groups .
Given bans on movement , military spouses and kids scheduled to relocate ( a common enough phenomenon in such a life ) or families with a member deployed elsewhere in the world are living in striking states of isolation and uncertainty .
They are increasingly unsure when they will see loved ones again or where they will live or study in the months to come .
How starkly Covid-19 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the military was highlighted by the suicides of two students at the U.S. Air Force Academy last month .
Those deaths came after that school ’ s leadership decided to place the 1,000 seniors still on campus in single rooms , the equivalent of solitary confinement , for weeks on end to prevent the spread of Covid-19 .
It ’ s striking how little effort our military ’ s high command has put into understanding the effects of national crises on the health of military families .
After all , though it ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ other family members have been subject to the same job losses , homeschooling issues , and lack of childcare as other Americans amid a spreading pandemic — and all of this has only been heightened by the loss of local social connections due to frequent moves .
In addition , as in the society at large , within military communities inequalities abound .
The government has deemed both my husband , a naval officer , and Aleha ’ s husband “ essential workers.
” That means my husband must go into the Pentagon @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to handle mysterious — to me , at least — matters related to our country ’ s nuclear arsenal .
In return for this modest risk to his own and our family ’ s health , my “ essential ” husband is otherwise able to watch our kids almost full time while I pursue my work as a mental-health therapist from home .
Our privilege in rank and pay places me in a very different position from the spouses of enlisted troops .
Despite that position of privilege , given my work , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ this national crisis has deepened existing social inequalities .
In 2011 , along with Catherine Lutz and Neta Crawford , I co-founded the Costs of War Project , a nonpartisan , multidisciplinary team of academic , health care , and legal experts who continue to analyze the costs of the U.S. decision to respond to the 9/11 attacks with full-scale military action , including the opportunities missed to invest in critical domestic areas like health care .
I ’ m also a therapist who specializes in trauma-focused care for military veterans and their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the United States , many of whom have been affected by armed conflicts in their homelands .
In addition , as a Navy spouse and mother of two young children who has completed four military-related moves in the course of my husband ’ s career as a submariner , I know what social isolation and uncertainty can feel like and how they can affect the human psyche .
I ’ m aware as well that , as the Covid-19 crisis drags on and more troops fall ill , my spouse could be sent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the many increasingly Covid-19-destabilized places where our military has a presence or is fighting what are increasingly pandemic wars .
And believe me , when you ’ re alone during a spouse ’ s deployment , even in the best of times , which these aren ’ t , the shit can hit the fan remarkably fast .
In 2017 , for instance , while my husband was at sea and out of contact , I contracted a nasty , vaccine-resistant version of the flu .
I was single-parenting two toddlers and found @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ER at three in the morning because I had a fast-rising fever that made walking , let alone lifting a baby , difficult .
A neighbor , the divorced wife of a Navy veteran , left Campbell ’ s soup on our doorstep but shied away from taking my children long enough for me to get care .
This was at a moment when my husband ’ s ship commander ( who could only be described as a “ toxic leader ” ) threatened spouses who frequented anything but command-sanctioned Family Readiness Groups @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
This made it that much less likely that wives like me in that military community would establish friendships strong enough to lead someone to take a chance on helping a sick friend .
If an experience as fleeting and minor as mine felt as trying as it did , then what have the family members of the crew of the aircraft carrier , U.S.S .
Theodore Roosevelt , more than 1,000 of whom tested positive for Covid-19 recently , experienced in their moments of need ?
During my own mini-drama with the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from the command ’ s volunteer ombudsperson , herself the wife of an enlisted sailor , reminding me of my “ essential role ” in national security .
Spouses like me were not to even think about writing our husbands concerning our own problems , including illnesses , lest we distress them and so endanger national security .
I wonder if the spouses of the infected crew members of the Roosevelt felt similarly “ protected ” by a naval leadership that refuses to disclose significant information about the well-being of their loved ones @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with the spread of this virus , too .
In our gender- and class-stratified society , you are usually deemed “ essential ” only when those in power feel they truly need you .
The rest of us non-essentials are seldom sufficiently protected , valued , or seen , and in truth that turns out to be the reality for most essentials as well .
( If you don ’ t believe me , just check out the conditions in any meat-processing plant still open in your state . )
It ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ our national “ war ” against this pandemic is a mental-health crisis on a staggering scale .
Among therapists like myself , it ’ s widely known that being in a community where you feel you ’ re a contributor offers genuine protection when it comes to suicidal urges .
Among people I know who work in low-paid staff jobs where social distancing is impossible , the difference between feeling depressed and hopeless and having the energy to get to the next day is often the conviction that you ’ re appreciated by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ One way of getting recognition for your struggles at work and elsewhere today is through group therapy and support .
I ’ ve seen this firsthand at the community mental health clinic where I work , while also dealing with veterans struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder .
Speaking in face-to-face groups gives you the opportunity to feel supported even as you support others .
And in the social-distancing era of Covid-19 , because so much communication is nonverbal and Zoom therapy captures only talking heads , such methods may be losing their power @ @ @ @ @ @ @ well as janitors , medical aides , nurses , doctors , and care workers of every sort who must encounter people with health crises on a daily basis , so vital to our current struggle against this virus .
They provide medical help , of course , but also deeply needed support at a moment when social distancing has placed on pause many other outlets for it .
The Essential , the Vulnerable , and the Unseen Much ink has been spilled recently on the heroic nature of such care workers , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up against an invisible pathogen and a president who empowers his supporters to shun the advice of medical professionals and scientists — including his own .
A recent image of a masked retired surgeon with a homemade sign ( “ You have no ‘ right ’ to put us all at risk .
Go home !
” ) standing in front of a car to register his disagreement with last month ’ s ( largely white ) anti-lockdown pro-Trump protests in Richmond , Virginia , catches the essence of this conflict .
I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ color who cried when she saw that very image , because a family member of hers is a cafeteria worker in a military hospital ward treating Covid-19 patients .
“ People don ’ t realize how their protests affect my family , ” she told me , explaining that they could be susceptible to any wave of Covid-19 infection resulting from such thoughtless protests .
Yet none of her family members had either the knowledge , money , or connections to get the best health care , if infected .
In an age @ @ @ @ @ @ @ funding , supplies , and staffing , and those where doctors , driven by a manufactured scarcity , are making arbitrary and discriminatory decisions about who deserves life-saving care , I understand her anguish .
As anti-poverty activist Liz Theoharis has pointed out , many of the tasks most vital to stemming this epidemic are going to be performed by low-paid workers with the least access to decent housing in which to socially distance themselves and to the money and social connections that would link them to the best medical advice .
How @ @ @ @ @ @ @ powers-that-be deem “ essential , ” like doctors and military personnel , when we don ’ t care for those who care for them ?
Similarly , you would have to include not just therapists like me , who find ourselves supporting an ever-more-isolated , stir-crazy , and stressed-out populace , but also the staff members and janitors who help us and clean our offices .
In the military , you would also have to include spouses homeschooling their kids ( including those with special needs ) while working or struggling to figure @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Caring for all such people is important not just because the value of a human being should be absolute , whether you ’ re essential or not , but because , in this pandemic world of ours , devaluing anyone ’ s life will have consequences for us all .
In a recent op-ed , Costs of War Project co-directors Catherine Lutz and Neta Crawford argued that , no matter what President Trump says , we ’ re not in a “ war ” against the coronavirus .
War did , however , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ into this mess .
Congress has allocated an average of $ 230 billion dollars annually to waging our hopeless wars in Afghanistan and Iraq , while only a microscopic fraction of such moneys have been going into health care and education at home .
Costs of War Project economist Heidi Garrett-Peltier showed that , had this country invested the same amount of money in health care rather than its forever wars , twice the number of jobs would have been created and that ’ s no small thing at a moment when the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ — more than 9,000 health-care workers have already been infected by Covid-19 — and physicians are being called out of retirement in order to serve .
If there ’ s one thing the Costs of War Project has made clear , it ’ s this : war is about the destruction of the very institutions it purports to protect .
At a time when health care , education , and other social services , including food aid , are so badly needed , why is the military still being funded at astronomical levels @ @ @ @ @ @ @ My husband and I sometimes argue about the designation “ essential ” worker .
How can he be called “ essential ” when we spend most of our days together on our Maryland farm as he collects his Department of Defense salary ?
He always reminds me that redundancy in government allows us to function under the worst of circumstances .
If , for instance , Pentagon officials responsible for dealing with threats to our nuclear arsenal were to fall ill en masse or be killed in a sudden attack , others would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Yet the obvious corollary to that argument has certainly not been applied to our health care infrastructure in these years and we ’ re paying for that today .
If the president had not gutted the Department of Health and Human Services , perhaps there would have been enough people to ensure that our federal stockpiles of ventilators were properly maintained in preparation for a crisis we knew was coming .
If the pandemic task force created under President Obama hadn ’ t been disbanded , perhaps we would have been better prepared @ @ @ @ @ @ @ if so much of our money hadn ’ t gone into the military-industrial complex , perhaps there would have been enough health-care workers to weather this crisis better .
As this invisible pathogen spreads across much of the world , what families like mine worry about is that our nation ’ s ever-expanding global conflicts will only continue to grow in scope and intensity , threatening food and medical supply chains .
Then , in the worst of times , with our military infrastructure in increasing disarray , many more families , including @ @ @ @ @ @ @ called into armed conflict .

“When he first came home, it was tough.” So Aleha, the wife of an airman in Colorado, told me. She was describing her family’s life since her husband, who lives with chronic depression, completed a partial hospitalization program and, in March, along with other members of his unit, entered a pandemic lockdown. He was now spending full days at home with her and their four children, which offered needed family time and rest from the daily rigors of training. Yet the military’s pandemic lockdown had its challenges as well. Aside from weekly online sessions with his therapist (the third the military had assigned him in so many weeks), Aleha was left to provide her husband with needed emotional support, while homeschooling their older children and caring for their toddler.
Her husband, like the other 1.3 million active-duty service members in the United States, faces what most of the rest of the country is facing: orders to stay at home and distance themselves from those outside their households to prevent the spread of the novel coronavirus that has killed more than 82,000 Americans and more than 295,000 people worldwide.
Yet there’s something distinctive about what members of the American military (whose suicide rates now surpass civilian ones) face: the stress posed by the threat of the most literal “front-line service” in these times of endless war and pandemic. They find themselves in uniform in an era of more frequent deployments and longer training days. Even in pre-pandemic times, they needed the support of psychiatrists and therapists like me and of their military community, including commanders whose default approach to mental-health problems has often been to coach them on what not to say to avoid being medically disqualified from duty.
Troops and their families have needed access to supportive social groups, including religious ones, antidepressants and other mood medications, and off-base mental-health providers who can counsel them in a more unbiased way. In many cases, they also need access to inpatient facilities for when the going gets really rough.
In the past months, daily life for our troops and their families has been transformed in previously almost unimaginable ways. For example, many new recruits are now quarantined when they arrive at military bases. Physical training is staggered and conducted in smaller groups. Given bans on movement, military spouses and kids scheduled to relocate (a common enough phenomenon in such a life) or families with a member deployed elsewhere in the world are living in striking states of isolation and uncertainty. They are increasingly unsure when they will see loved ones again or where they will live or study in the months to come. How starkly Covid-19 restrictions can affect already vulnerable members of the military was highlighted by the suicides of two students at the U.S. Air Force Academy last month. Those deaths came after that school’s leadership decided to place the 1,000 seniors still on campus in single rooms, the equivalent of solitary confinement, for weeks on end to prevent the spread of Covid-19.
It’s striking how little effort our military’s high command has put into understanding the effects of national crises on the health of military families. After all, though it’s seldom mentioned, such spouses and other family members have been subject to the same job losses, homeschooling issues, and lack of childcare as other Americans amid a spreading pandemic — and all of this has only been heightened by the loss of local social connections due to frequent moves.
In addition, as in the society at large, within military communities inequalities abound. The government has deemed both my husband, a naval officer, and Aleha’s husband “essential workers.” That means my husband must go into the Pentagon a few days a month right now to handle mysterious — to me, at least — matters related to our country’s nuclear arsenal. In return for this modest risk to his own and our family’s health, my “essential” husband is otherwise able to watch our kids almost full time while I pursue my work as a mental-health therapist from home. Our privilege in rank and pay places me in a very different position from the spouses of enlisted troops.
Social Distancing in a Mental Health Crisis
Despite that position of privilege, given my work, I have a strong sense of how this national crisis has deepened existing social inequalities. In 2011, along with Catherine Lutz and Neta Crawford, I co-founded the Costs of War Project, a nonpartisan, multidisciplinary team of academic, health care, and legal experts who continue to analyze the costs of the U.S. decision to respond to the 9/11 attacks with full-scale military action, including the opportunities missed to invest in critical domestic areas like health care. I’m also a therapist who specializes in trauma-focused care for military veterans and their families, refugees, and immigrants to the United States, many of whom have been affected by armed conflicts in their homelands.
In addition, as a Navy spouse and mother of two young children who has completed four military-related moves in the course of my husband’s career as a submariner, I know what social isolation and uncertainty can feel like and how they can affect the human psyche. I’m aware as well that, as the Covid-19 crisis drags on and more troops fall ill, my spouse could be sent back to sea or to one of the many increasingly Covid-19-destabilized places where our military has a presence or is fighting what are increasingly pandemic wars.
And believe me, when you’re alone during a spouse’s deployment, even in the best of times, which these aren’t, the shit can hit the fan remarkably fast. In 2017, for instance, while my husband was at sea and out of contact, I contracted a nasty, vaccine-resistant version of the flu. I was single-parenting two toddlers and found myself Ubering with my children to the ER at three in the morning because I had a fast-rising fever that made walking, let alone lifting a baby, difficult.
A neighbor, the divorced wife of a Navy veteran, left Campbell’s soup on our doorstep but shied away from taking my children long enough for me to get care. This was at a moment when my husband’s ship commander (who could only be described as a “toxic leader”) threatened spouses who frequented anything but command-sanctioned Family Readiness Groups, formed to support troops during deployments. This made it that much less likely that wives like me in that military community would establish friendships strong enough to lead someone to take a chance on helping a sick friend.
If an experience as fleeting and minor as mine felt as trying as it did, then what have the family members of the crew of the aircraft carrier, U.S.S. Theodore Roosevelt, more than 1,000 of whom tested positive for Covid-19 recently, experienced in their moments of need? During my own mini-drama with the flu, I continued to receive emails from the command’s volunteer ombudsperson, herself the wife of an enlisted sailor, reminding me of my “essential role” in national security. Spouses like me were not to even think about writing our husbands concerning our own problems, including illnesses, lest we distress them and so endanger national security. I wonder if the spouses of the infected crew members of the Roosevelt felt similarly “protected” by a naval leadership that refuses to disclose significant information about the well-being of their loved ones, even as they no doubt struggle with the spread of this virus, too.
In our gender- and class-stratified society, you are usually deemed “essential” only when those in power feel they truly need you. The rest of us non-essentials are seldom sufficiently protected, valued, or seen, and in truth that turns out to be the reality for most essentials as well. (If you don’t believe me, just check out the conditions in any meat-processing plant still open in your state.)
It’s no secret anymore that one casualty of our national “war” against this pandemic is a mental-health crisis on a staggering scale. Among therapists like myself, it’s widely known that being in a community where you feel you’re a contributor offers genuine protection when it comes to suicidal urges. Among people I know who work in low-paid staff jobs where social distancing is impossible, the difference between feeling depressed and hopeless and having the energy to get to the next day is often the conviction that you’re appreciated by coworkers and those you are helping.
One way of getting recognition for your struggles at work and elsewhere today is through group therapy and support. I’ve seen this firsthand at the community mental health clinic where I work, while also dealing with veterans struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder. Speaking in face-to-face groups gives you the opportunity to feel supported even as you support others. And in the social-distancing era of Covid-19, because so much communication is nonverbal and Zoom therapy captures only talking heads, such methods may be losing their power.
This makes military spouses, as well as janitors, medical aides, nurses, doctors, and care workers of every sort who must encounter people with health crises on a daily basis, so vital to our current struggle against this virus. They provide medical help, of course, but also deeply needed support at a moment when social distancing has placed on pause many other outlets for it.
The Essential, the Vulnerable, and the Unseen
Much ink has been spilled recently on the heroic nature of such care workers, and for good reason. They’re up against an invisible pathogen and a president who empowers his supporters to shun the advice of medical professionals and scientists — including his own. A recent image of a masked retired surgeon with a homemade sign (“You have no ‘right’ to put us all at risk. Go home!”) standing in front of a car to register his disagreement with last month’s (largely white) anti-lockdown pro-Trump protests in Richmond, Virginia, catches the essence of this conflict.
I recently spoke with a young woman of color who cried when she saw that very image, because a family member of hers is a cafeteria worker in a military hospital ward treating Covid-19 patients. “People don’t realize how their protests affect my family,” she told me, explaining that they could be susceptible to any wave of Covid-19 infection resulting from such thoughtless protests. Yet none of her family members had either the knowledge, money, or connections to get the best health care, if infected. In an age of growing division between hospitals with ample funding, supplies, and staffing, and those where doctors, driven by a manufactured scarcity, are making arbitrary and discriminatory decisions about who deserves life-saving care, I understand her anguish.
As anti-poverty activist Liz Theoharis has pointed out, many of the tasks most vital to stemming this epidemic are going to be performed by low-paid workers with the least access to decent housing in which to socially distance themselves and to the money and social connections that would link them to the best medical advice. How can this country care for those the powers-that-be deem “essential,” like doctors and military personnel, when we don’t care for those who care for them? Similarly, you would have to include not just therapists like me, who find ourselves supporting an ever-more-isolated, stir-crazy, and stressed-out populace, but also the staff members and janitors who help us and clean our offices.
In the military, you would also have to include spouses homeschooling their kids (including those with special needs) while working or struggling to figure out how to pay their bills. Caring for all such people is important not just because the value of a human being should be absolute, whether you’re essential or not, but because, in this pandemic world of ours, devaluing anyone’s life will have consequences for us all.
The Costs of War, Pandemic-Version
In a recent op-ed, Costs of War Project co-directors Catherine Lutz and Neta Crawford argued that, no matter what President Trump says, we’re not in a “war” against the coronavirus. War did, however, play a crucial role in getting us into this mess.
Congress has allocated an average of $230 billion dollars annually to waging our hopeless wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, while only a microscopic fraction of such moneys have been going into health care and education at home. Costs of War Project economist Heidi Garrett-Peltier showed that, had this country invested the same amount of money in health care rather than its forever wars, twice the number of jobs would have been created and that’s no small thing at a moment when the U.S. faces a dire shortage of doctors — more than 9,000 health-care workers have already been infected by Covid-19 — and physicians are being called out of retirement in order to serve.
If there’s one thing the Costs of War Project has made clear, it’s this: war is about the destruction of the very institutions it purports to protect. At a time when health care, education, and other social services, including food aid, are so badly needed, why is the military still being funded at astronomical levels, while other agencies are gutted?
My husband and I sometimes argue about the designation “essential” worker. How can he be called “essential” when we spend most of our days together on our Maryland farm as he collects his Department of Defense salary? He always reminds me that redundancy in government allows us to function under the worst of circumstances. If, for instance, Pentagon officials responsible for dealing with threats to our nuclear arsenal were to fall ill en masse or be killed in a sudden attack, others would be available to take their place.
Yet the obvious corollary to that argument has certainly not been applied to our health care infrastructure in these years and we’re paying for that today. If the president had not gutted the Department of Health and Human Services, perhaps there would have been enough people to ensure that our federal stockpiles of ventilators were properly maintained in preparation for a crisis we knew was coming. If the pandemic task force created under President Obama hadn’t been disbanded, perhaps we would have been better prepared for the spread of Covid-19. And if so much of our money hadn’t gone into the military-industrial complex, perhaps there would have been enough health-care workers to weather this crisis better.
As this invisible pathogen spreads across much of the world, what families like mine worry about is that our nation’s ever-expanding global conflicts will only continue to grow in scope and intensity, threatening food and medical supply chains. Then, in the worst of times, with our military infrastructure in increasing disarray, many more families, including possibly mine, could once again be called into armed conflict.
Tired of reading the same old news from the same old sources? So are we! That’s why we’re on a mission to shake things up and bring you the stories and perspectives that often go untold in mainstream media. But being a radically, unapologetically independent news site isn’t easy (or cheap), and we rely on reader support to keep the lights on.
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truthout--2020-05-14--When Patients Die Alone, How Do Families and Health Workers Relieve Suffering?

We look at the tremendous emotional toll the coronavirus is taking on families when loved ones are forced to battle COVID alone in hospitals or at home , with Dr. Diane Meier , director of the Center to Advance Palliative Care and a professor of geriatrics and palliative medicine at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai .
She helped start a 24-hour palliative care hotline for COVID-19 patients in New York City that served nearly 900 people in a four-week period .
This is a rush transcript .
Copy may not be in its final form .
AMY @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , democracynow.org , The Quarantine Report .
I ’ m Amy Goodman , with Nermeen Shaikh .
We ’ re broadcasting from the epicenter of the pandemic , as we turn now to look at the tremendous emotional toll the coronavirus is taking on families when loved ones are forced to battle COVID alone in hospitals or at home .
The virus is so contagious that hospitals have been forced to ban family members from tending to their sick relatives in person , often making healthcare workers and the staff of the hospital @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , who are relying on technology to say their goodbyes to their loved ones .
These extraordinary circumstances have led to a surge in the need for palliative care specialists — doctors and nurses who focus on relieving pain and supporting patients and their families who are facing such severe , chronic or fatal illness .
For more on palliative care , we ’ re go to Carmel , New York , where we ’ re joined by Diane Meier , director of the Center to Advance Palliative Care , professor of geriatrics @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of Medicine at Mount Sinai .
She helped start a 24-hour palliative care hotline for COVID-19 patients in New York City that served nearly 900 people in a four-week period .
Professor Meier , it ’ s great to have you back on Democracy Now !
Why don ’ t we start off with that big word , with this term “ palliative care , ” what it means ?
And what people all over have come to understand is that you have a patient who is in the hospital or at home @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
DR. DIANE MEIER : Thank you , Amy .
It ’ s great to see you again .
Palliative care , what is it ?
I ’ m so glad you started with that question , because that remains the $ 64 question in our field .
And that is that most people , including health professionals , don ’ t really know what it is .
And it ’ s very simple .
Palliative care is a new medical and nursing specialty — by “ new , ” I mean it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that is focused on the relief of suffering and the best possible quality of life for people living with a serious illness .
So , you can tell from what I said that it is not solely about the dying ; it is about people living with serious illness .
So , for example , if you have dementia , like Alzheimer ’ s disease , or emphysema and difficulty breathing or heart problems or you ’ re on dialysis , those are all serious illnesses , with which people can live and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ But those diseases pose a huge burden on ability to function , on symptom burden and on our loved ones , our family caregivers who help us get through this .
And the field of palliative care is about trying to reduce that burden and reduce that suffering , not only on patients themselves , but also on those who care for them .
NERMEEN SHAIKH : Dr. Meier , could you talk about what the effect of this virus has been on palliative care and end-of-life care ?
DR. DIANE MEIER : @ @ @ @ @ @ @ enormous impact on the field of palliative care in two main ways .
The first is that it is obvious to everyone , our fellow health professionals , as well as members of the general public , that there is a great deal of suffering associated with this virus , and not just , as Andrew Solomon said , anxiety , fear , depression , but also physical suffering , like shortness of breath , profound fatigue , recurrent very high fevers , and the symptoms that go along with that .
And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ if you ’ re sick enough to need the hospital , are having enough breathing difficulty that it ’ s a possibility that you will need to be on a breathing machine , once you set foot in the hospital or are wheeled into the hospital , your family is sent home .
And they are sent home because we ’ re not allowing any visitors in the hospital .
And part of that is to try to reduce risk to those visitors , since we have so many COVID-positive patients in the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to reduce risk to people working in the hospital of asymptomatic family members coming in who are carrying the virus but don ’ t know it because they still feel OK .
So , under normal circumstances of serious illness , the one thing we can rely on , the one thing that is the silver lining of the experience , is our relationship with our family and our other loved ones , is the human connection that grows and strengthens in a period of serious illness .
In this pandemic , that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ re not allowed to have .
And I am very concerned , as Andrew Solomon is , that the mental health consequences of people being isolated just when they most need each other , just when they most need their families and their families need them , is going to be enormous .
AMY GOODMAN : If you can talk about what happens , and what you feel needs to happen , in the hospital when the patient is dying , their beloved family wants to be with them but can ’ t @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the best way to deal with that ?
And also , the effect on the healthcare professionals , who are so overwhelmed , whether we ’ re talking doctors , nurses , the staff of the hospitals , already with so many patients , and they also understand they are the last people that this patient will see ?
DR. DIANE MEIER : So , you hit on the three elements that I think are important to focus on .
The first is : What is the impact on the patient ?
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ family and other loved ones ?
And the third is : What is the impact on clinicians , healthcare workers , who are a witness to this ?
I guess “ brutality ” is one word that comes to mind , because imagining people alone during a time like this feels brutal to think about .
So , on patients , when we ’ re scared , when we ’ re confused , when we have a high fever , we ’ re having difficulty breathing , the only human beings we see @ @ @ @ @ @ @ re wearing masks .
They ’ re wearing facial shields .
They ’ re wearing gowns and gloves .
You can barely see their eyes .
It is as if you are in contact with Martians , not human beings .
And on top of that , in order to protect healthcare workers , every hospital is maximizing the attempt to keep health are workers out of the patients ’ rooms .
So , for example , we ’ re setting people up with IVs and pumps that can be put outside the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ so that nurses and other staff do not need to repeatedly enter the patient ’ s room .
So , not only are they completely covered in personal protective equipment , their time in the patient ’ s room is 90 % less than it normally would be .
So human contact of any kind is markedly diminished because of this pandemic .
And as you pointed out earlier , as Andrew pointed out earlier , we are fundamentally and biologically social animals .
And when you remove all of the warmth and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we evolved to be critically dependent on , the distress and suffering and confusion is inconceivable .
Then let ’ s move on to families .
Amy , you will remember this , that when families talk to us about looking back on the serious illness or death of a loved one , they always talk about the same two things .
One is that their loved one was comfortable , that they weren ’ t in terrible pain or shortness of breath or very agitated .
And the second thing they say @ @ @ @ @ @ @ We were all there.
” And that gives tremendous comfort , looking back , that when it really counted , we showed up .
We showed up for the people we love most .
We were there .
We left our jobs .
We flew across the country .
We were there .
And families can ’ t do that anymore .
And I think the level of grief and bereavement , and the difficulty overcoming that , when families can ’ t say , “ We were there .
He was really @ @ @ @ @ @ @ there , ” is — it ’ s never happened before , at least not in recent history .
And I think it will lead to an enormous level of complicated grief and bereavement , feelings of shame , feelings of guilt , feelings like “ I should have , I should have , ” even though there was nothing anyone could do .
You can ’ t visit the hospital when you ’ re not allowed to visit the hospital .
And anything that we in the health professions can do to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ then there ’ s the third group , which is us — doctors , nurses , social workers , environmental services staff , food staff .
We are witness to this isolation and this kind of — I don ’ t know if “ stigmatization ” is the right word .
But when you isolate someone , and you try to keep staff out of the room , and you don ’ t let families in because the patient has COVID , and no one wants to come — we don ’ t @ @ @ @ @ @ @ there is a kind of stigmatization that goes with that and that suggests that the patient has become a danger to others — not only to him or herself , but also to others .
And that dehumanizes the patient .
And so , I ’ m very concerned about how the normal instincts of doctors and nurses and social workers , and everyone who works in the healthcare system , which is to care and show human support and warmth and to smile and to joke around and to remind the patient @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the human family — all of those have gone away .
So , that brings me to : What can we do ?
DR. DIANE MEIER : Oh , OK. Well , we ’ ll have to talk about that another time .
But there ’ s a lot that we can do to remediate that .
AMY GOODMAN : Well , why don ’ t we say there will be a post-show right now ?
And we will post it online at democracynow.org .
People can go right to it .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , director of the Center to Advance Palliative Care and professor of geriatrics and palliative medicine at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai .
And a very happy landmark birthday to our colleague Erin Dooley !
That does it for our show .
Democracy Now !
is working with as few people on site as possible .
The majority of our amazing team is working from home .
Democracy Now !
is produced with Renée Feltz , Mike Burke , Deena Guzder , Libby Rainey , Nermeen Shaikh , Carla Wills @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Sam Alcoff , Tey-Marie Astudillo , John Hamilton , Robby Karran .
Special thanks to Julie Crosby .
I ’ m Amy Goodman , with Nermeen Shaikh .
Thanks for joining us .

We look at the tremendous emotional toll the coronavirus is taking on families when loved ones are forced to battle COVID alone in hospitals or at home, with Dr. Diane Meier, director of the Center to Advance Palliative Care and a professor of geriatrics and palliative medicine at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. She helped start a 24-hour palliative care hotline for COVID-19 patients in New York City that served nearly 900 people in a four-week period.
This is a rush transcript. Copy may not be in its final form.
AMY GOODMAN: This is Democracy Now!, democracynow.org, The Quarantine Report. I’m Amy Goodman, with Nermeen Shaikh. We’re broadcasting from the epicenter of the pandemic, as we turn now to look at the tremendous emotional toll the coronavirus is taking on families when loved ones are forced to battle COVID alone in hospitals or at home. The virus is so contagious that hospitals have been forced to ban family members from tending to their sick relatives in person, often making healthcare workers and the staff of the hospital the only human contact for dying patients, who are relying on technology to say their goodbyes to their loved ones.
These extraordinary circumstances have led to a surge in the need for palliative care specialists — doctors and nurses who focus on relieving pain and supporting patients and their families who are facing such severe, chronic or fatal illness.
For more on palliative care, we’re go to Carmel, New York, where we’re joined by Diane Meier, director of the Center to Advance Palliative Care, professor of geriatrics and palliative medicine at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. She helped start a 24-hour palliative care hotline for COVID-19 patients in New York City that served nearly 900 people in a four-week period.
Professor Meier, it’s great to have you back on Democracy Now! Why don’t we start off with that big word, with this term “palliative care,” what it means? And what people all over have come to understand is that you have a patient who is in the hospital or at home, and they’re dying alone.
DR. DIANE MEIER: Thank you, Amy. It’s great to see you again.
Palliative care, what is it? I’m so glad you started with that question, because that remains the $64 question in our field. And that is that most people, including health professionals, don’t really know what it is. And it’s very simple. Palliative care is a new medical and nursing specialty — by “new,” I mean it’s about 10 years old — that is focused on the relief of suffering and the best possible quality of life for people living with a serious illness.
So, you can tell from what I said that it is not solely about the dying; it is about people living with serious illness. So, for example, if you have dementia, like Alzheimer’s disease, or emphysema and difficulty breathing or heart problems or you’re on dialysis, those are all serious illnesses, with which people can live and often do live for many years. But those diseases pose a huge burden on ability to function, on symptom burden and on our loved ones, our family caregivers who help us get through this. And the field of palliative care is about trying to reduce that burden and reduce that suffering, not only on patients themselves, but also on those who care for them.
NERMEEN SHAIKH: Dr. Meier, could you talk about what the effect of this virus has been on palliative care and end-of-life care?
DR. DIANE MEIER: So, this virus has had an enormous impact on the field of palliative care in two main ways. The first is that it is obvious to everyone, our fellow health professionals, as well as members of the general public, that there is a great deal of suffering associated with this virus, and not just, as Andrew Solomon said, anxiety, fear, depression, but also physical suffering, like shortness of breath, profound fatigue, recurrent very high fevers, and the symptoms that go along with that.
And if you get to the hospital, if you’re sick enough to need the hospital, are having enough breathing difficulty that it’s a possibility that you will need to be on a breathing machine, once you set foot in the hospital or are wheeled into the hospital, your family is sent home. And they are sent home because we’re not allowing any visitors in the hospital. And part of that is to try to reduce risk to those visitors, since we have so many COVID-positive patients in the hospital. And part of it is to reduce risk to people working in the hospital of asymptomatic family members coming in who are carrying the virus but don’t know it because they still feel OK.
So, under normal circumstances of serious illness, the one thing we can rely on, the one thing that is the silver lining of the experience, is our relationship with our family and our other loved ones, is the human connection that grows and strengthens in a period of serious illness. In this pandemic, that’s the one thing you’re not allowed to have. And I am very concerned, as Andrew Solomon is, that the mental health consequences of people being isolated just when they most need each other, just when they most need their families and their families need them, is going to be enormous.
AMY GOODMAN: If you can talk about what happens, and what you feel needs to happen, in the hospital when the patient is dying, their beloved family wants to be with them but can’t — both that situation and what is the best way to deal with that? And also, the effect on the healthcare professionals, who are so overwhelmed, whether we’re talking doctors, nurses, the staff of the hospitals, already with so many patients, and they also understand they are the last people that this patient will see?
DR. DIANE MEIER: So, you hit on the three elements that I think are important to focus on. The first is: What is the impact on the patient? The second: What is the impact on family and other loved ones? And the third is: What is the impact on clinicians, healthcare workers, who are a witness to this? I guess “brutality” is one word that comes to mind, because imagining people alone during a time like this feels brutal to think about.
So, on patients, when we’re scared, when we’re confused, when we have a high fever, we’re having difficulty breathing, the only human beings we see are covered up entirely. They’re wearing masks. They’re wearing facial shields. They’re wearing gowns and gloves. You can barely see their eyes. It is as if you are in contact with Martians, not human beings. And on top of that, in order to protect healthcare workers, every hospital is maximizing the attempt to keep health are workers out of the patients’ rooms. So, for example, we’re setting people up with IVs and pumps that can be put outside the room, with very long tubing, so that nurses and other staff do not need to repeatedly enter the patient’s room. So, not only are they completely covered in personal protective equipment, their time in the patient’s room is 90% less than it normally would be. So human contact of any kind is markedly diminished because of this pandemic. And as you pointed out earlier, as Andrew pointed out earlier, we are fundamentally and biologically social animals. And when you remove all of the warmth and the interaction and the human contact that we evolved to be critically dependent on, the distress and suffering and confusion is inconceivable.
Then let’s move on to families. Amy, you will remember this, that when families talk to us about looking back on the serious illness or death of a loved one, they always talk about the same two things. One is that their loved one was comfortable, that they weren’t in terrible pain or shortness of breath or very agitated. And the second thing they say is “We were all there. We were all there.” And that gives tremendous comfort, looking back, that when it really counted, we showed up. We showed up for the people we love most. We were there. We left our jobs. We flew across the country. We were there. And families can’t do that anymore. And I think the level of grief and bereavement, and the difficulty overcoming that, when families can’t say, “We were there. He was really comfortable and peaceful. We were all there,” is — it’s never happened before, at least not in recent history. And I think it will lead to an enormous level of complicated grief and bereavement, feelings of shame, feelings of guilt, feelings like “I should have, I should have,” even though there was nothing anyone could do. You can’t visit the hospital when you’re not allowed to visit the hospital. And anything that we in the health professions can do to help overcome that is crucial.
And then there’s the third group, which is us — doctors, nurses, social workers, environmental services staff, food staff. We are witness to this isolation and this kind of — I don’t know if “stigmatization” is the right word. But when you isolate someone, and you try to keep staff out of the room, and you don’t let families in because the patient has COVID, and no one wants to come — we don’t want anyone to come near them, there is a kind of stigmatization that goes with that and that suggests that the patient has become a danger to others — not only to him or herself, but also to others. And that dehumanizes the patient. And so, I’m very concerned about how the normal instincts of doctors and nurses and social workers, and everyone who works in the healthcare system, which is to care and show human support and warmth and to smile and to joke around and to remind the patient that he or she is still part of the human family — all of those have gone away.
So, that brings me to: What can we do?
AMY GOODMAN: We have 20 seconds.
DR. DIANE MEIER: Oh, OK. Well, we’ll have to talk about that another time. But there’s a lot that we can do to remediate that.
AMY GOODMAN: Well, why don’t we say there will be a post-show right now? And we will post it online at democracynow.org. People can go right to it. We want to thank Dr. Diane Meier, director of the Center to Advance Palliative Care and professor of geriatrics and palliative medicine at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai.
And a very happy landmark birthday to our colleague Erin Dooley!
That does it for our show. Democracy Now! is working with as few people on site as possible. The majority of our amazing team is working from home. Democracy Now! is produced with Renée Feltz, Mike Burke, Deena Guzder, Libby Rainey, Nermeen Shaikh, Carla Wills, Tami Woronoff, Charina Nadura, Sam Alcoff, Tey-Marie Astudillo, John Hamilton, Robby Karran. Special thanks to Julie Crosby. I’m Amy Goodman, with Nermeen Shaikh. Thanks for joining us.