It’s 7:30 on a Tuesday. I hop off the shuttle from the parking garage and make my way to the E building. I’m feeling healthy today, so I take the stairs up to the 5th floor. I badge in and sit down at my desk to respond to a few emails before our 8:00 Advanced Genetic Counseling class.
It’s 7:45. My classmate April walks in. In keeping with our daily routine, she asks if I want to make coffee with her. Of course I do! We grab our respective mugs and K-cups and shuffle over to the break room, catching up on each other’s evenings. Piping hot coffee in hand, we trickle in to our classroom along with our 10 other classmates. We each take our unofficially self-assigned seat around the table. We’re all chatting as though we haven’t seen each other in weeks. (We had class together 15 hours ago and then went to Monday night trivia at MadTree together). Joshua says something funny and/or very Canadian, we all laugh, and eventually Carrie gets started with class. Today’s topic is compassion fatigue and burnout in genetic counseling.
It’s 11:00. I’m heading back to my desk from a meeting with my clinical supervisor. We reviewed the plan for this afternoon’s patients and agreed to meet in clinic at 1:00. In the meantime, I make some revisions to my thesis and schedule a meeting with my research advisor for the following day.
It’s 2:30. Clinic is busy today!
It’s 5:45. I arrive home after a busy day. My dog greets me enthusiastically as I unclip my badge and take off my shoes. A few minutes later, I get a text from my classmate Chloe: “Burgers tonight?” Yes! I put my shoes right back on and head out the door.
It’s 9:30. Dinner was fun! I’m exhausted, but I’m glad I went. I set my alarm and my head hits the pillow, ready to do it all again tomorrow.
The COVID-19 crisis forced a transition from normal life to completely uncharted territory for everyone in a matter of days. We as a program had to quickly adapt to the many challenges that came with this unexpected transition to remote learning and social distancing.
For me, the biggest challenge of being a genetic counseling student during the COVID-19 crisis has been dealing with my own feelings of loss and grief. As a second year student growing more and more eager to add that “MS” to my name, there was no world in which I ever anticipated a cancelled graduation. I could not wait to put on that cap and gown and celebrate all of my class’s accomplishments. I was so excited for my parents to see all of my hard work, meet my classmates and faculty, and enjoy some of my favorite places in Cincinnati with me. My classmates and I have been talking about ideas for our graduation reception for literally almost two years now. This was going to be the culmination of everything we’ve done on our journey to become genetic counselors. And it was just...cancelled. I knew it was coming. Everything else had been cancelled. Businesses were closed. We were ordered to stay in our homes. And yet, graduation was the one thing I was still holding on to. Maybe, just maybe, things would be normal again by April 30th. Up until that point, I had been bottling up all of my grief. Seeing the email pop up in my inbox with the subject line “Spring 2020 Commencement Postponed” was what finally broke me. I knew the university was making the right decision. “It’s not safe to hold a graduation ceremony right now,” I told myself. I sat on the couch and cried anyway.
For me, the biggest challenge of being a genetic counseling student during the COVID-19 crisis has been dealing with my own feelings of loss and grief. As a second year student growing more and more eager to add that “MS” to my name, there was no world in which I ever anticipated a cancelled graduation. I could not wait to put on that cap and gown and celebrate all of my class’s accomplishments. I was so excited for my parents to see all of my hard work, meet my classmates and faculty, and enjoy some of my favorite places in Cincinnati with me. My classmates and I have been talking about ideas for our graduation reception for literally almost two years now. This was going to be the culmination of everything we’ve done on our journey to become genetic counselors. And it was just...cancelled. I knew it was coming. Everything else had been cancelled. Businesses were closed. We were ordered to stay in our homes. And yet, graduation was the one thing I was still holding on to. Maybe, just maybe, things would be normal again by April 30th. Up until that point, I had been bottling up all of my grief. Seeing the email pop up in my inbox with the subject line “Spring 2020 Commencement Postponed” was what finally broke me. I knew the university was making the right decision. “It’s not safe to hold a graduation ceremony right now,” I told myself. I sat on the couch and cried anyway.
Over the last two years, my classmates have also become some of my closest friends. As we started accepting jobs around the country throughout our final semester, I was already feeling particularly sentimental about making the most of our last few weeks together. We were going to go to brunch every weekend, go on tons of hikes as the weather got nicer, laugh our way through many wine-filled game nights, spend lazy days at my apartment pool, work separately but together at our desks on E5...and I was ready to cherish every last moment.
But we left for Spring Break and never came back. It has become increasingly clear that I may not see any of them again in person before I move to Chicago.
Our entire program has been flipped completely upside down over the last few weeks. We have had to learn a completely new normal as everyone has been figuring out how to work from home. Technology issues have been frequent, classes and meetings have often been interrupted by partners/pets/kids, and yet, nobody seems to mind. We are all in this together, but apart. Despite the lack of in-person contact during the COVID-19 crisis, we as a program have really worked hard to maintain a sense of community. We hold weekly virtual lunches for everyone in the program to attend. Topics of conversation have included: quarantine baking, unique challenges we each face while working from home, and of course, Tiger King. This 45-minute get-together is something I look forward to every week because there’s something about just hearing and seeing everyone that makes me feel a little less isolated. Our second year class group chat continues to be very active, a constant stream of memes and pictures of our pets. We hold Skype game nights at least once a week and have managed to come up with an arsenal of phone-based games we can play together remotely. More often than not, several of us linger on Skype calls after class a little longer to keep chatting.
Classes, clinical rotations, and research have also required some major adaptations. All classes and thesis defenses were switched to remote. Instead of a triumphant thesis defense photo of me in a sharp blazer in front of my title slide, I’m now presenting from my bedroom with my dog barking in the background. In-person clinical rotations were cancelled, but these experiences were supplemented with an assignment related to our online Case Series as well as telemedicine role-plays with supervisors. My community education experience that got cancelled due to COVID-19 turned into this blog post. Program interviews, which have always been some of the most exciting days of spring semester, were made remote. I imagined how hard it must be for applicants this cycle, many of whom have been unable to visit campuses and meet faculty and current students in person. We typically host an informal meet-and-greet for interviewees and current students called Dessert Night the night before each interview day. I wanted to come up with some sort of remote alternative to give our remote interviewees that same opportunity, and so Bring Your Own Dessert Night was born! A virtual recognition ceremony for the Class of 2020 is in the works as well. We as a program have truly risen to the challenge and adapted to this entirely new normal in just a few short weeks, and I think that’s pretty remarkable. It’s not the same, but I do feel fortunate that we’re living in a world where we have these electronic resources to keep in touch and maintain a sense of community while we’re all stuck in our respective homes. And so, we’ll continue doing what we’re doing. We’ll keep rising to new challenges to adapt to these ever-changing and unprecedented times.
I never factored a global pandemic into my graduate school plans. We talk a lot about grief in the genetic counseling setting, and one of the types of grief that often comes up is a loss of normality. I never quite understood what this meant until now.
I am safe and healthy. I have a roof over my head and plenty to eat. I have supportive friends and family that love me. I’m about to earn my Master’s degree!!!!!
I have so much to be thankful for, and yet, I’m grieving. I’m grieving the loss of my normal and the loss of my plans. The coping process has not been linear, and some days have been harder than others. Despite the grief, I know that my training has prepared me to be a competent and confident genetic counselor, ready to take on the real world as soon as it re-opens. It has truly been an incredible two years, and I got to experience it all with some of the most amazing people I’ve ever known by my side (and/or by Skype).
The finish line wasn’t what I expected, but I sure am lucky to have taken the journey.
Kelly Buh
Class of 2020
