
Cartoon – Leadership Transparency Today


I’m a nurse in a Covid-19 unit. My hospital’s leaders frighten me more than the virus

I’ve been a nurse for almost 10 years, working mainly on a hospital’s cardiac floor.
One day I was assigned to a makeshift intensive care unit that had previously been an observation unit for highly stable patients waiting for test results. Many of the patients in this new Covid-19 unit were intubated, with ventilators breathing for them.
When I started the shift, a trained intensive care unit nurse was crying in the supply closet. She was overwhelmed and anxious, hadn’t worked on her familiar unit in weeks, and had been told that her next shift would be an overnight one — and she had no choice in the matter.
Many of us don’t have a choice. We are assigned to work in unfamiliar units, with patients who are outside our expertise, without any training. We’re lost.
Most shifts start with nurses crying. Most shifts end that way too.
“It’s out of our hands,” we hear from hospital administrators.
Nurses who typically work in outpatient clinics are being sent to inpatient floors and assigned to care for patients who are acutely ill. Many haven’t worked at the bedside in decades. The number of patients who have fallen in this unit has risen exponentially in the past two weeks due to lack of training of outpatient nurses.
I wonder if the patients know their nurses are overwhelmed, and that many of them are scared they’ll make a deadly mistake.
“Everyone is out of their comfort zone, just hang in there,” we’re told.
Doctors have been instructed not to enter patients’ rooms unless they must as a way to minimize their exposure to the virus that causes Covid-19 while nurses go from one room to the next, medicating, bathing, turning, and comforting their patients without changing their uncomfortable personal protective equipment, since supplies are limited. This work can take hours. It is not uncommon for nurses to go all day without drinking water or eating because that would mean removing our protective gear.
During one of my shifts, a doctor at my hospital posted several TikToks he made while sitting at the nurses’ station of a busy Covid-19 unit as nurses whispered words of encouragement to patients clinging to life supported by ventilators. Over our words and the hum of the ventilators, I wondered if our patients heard music coming from this doctor’s TikToks.
“We hear your concerns, but there’s nothing we can do,” doesn’t reassure or encourage us.
One day as I worked in the makeshift ICU, one of the hospital’s leaders went floor to floor making an important delivery. She approached our nursing station in her crisp professional attire and fresh disposition, and proudly delivered a supply of makeup-removing wipes. She told us to use the wipes to clean our faces before putting on our N95 masks so we could reuse the masks later, then moved on to the next nurses’ station without asking how our staff was doing or if we needed anything. I wonder if she had noticed the nurse crying in the supply closet.
“That’s above us, we don’t make those decisions,” is passing the buck at its worst.
Excuses from hospital administrators seem to have punctuated every shift for the past six weeks. The praise and applause from hospital leadership only go so far.
I can read in my co-workers’ faces and hear from the stories they tell that the biggest danger we face is not Covid-19. It’s the hospital’s administration.
Leadership is failing us, even as we stand firm in not failing our patients. We care for your loved ones, Covid-19 or not, monitor their vital signs, give them medications, rub lotion on their backs, help them to the bathroom, and brush their hair. We FaceTime their families from our personal phones so they can see their loved ones fighting to live. This is important care that nurses are proud to provide.
The narrative is simple. Nursing, and nurses, are not valued. It’s a shame, and maybe even a deadly shame, that hospital leaders don’t care about nurses like we care for our patients.




The president announced the nomination of an inspector general for the Department of Health and Human Services, who, if confirmed, would replace an acting official whose report embarrassed Mr. Trump.
President Trump moved on Friday night to replace a top official at the Department of Health and Human Services who angered him with a report last month highlighting supply shortages and testing delays at hospitals during the coronavirus pandemic.
The White House waited until after business hours to announce the nomination of a new inspector general for the department who, if confirmed, would take over for Christi A. Grimm, the principal deputy inspector general who was publicly assailed by the president at a news briefing three weeks ago.
The nomination was the latest effort by Mr. Trump against watchdog offices around his administration that have defied him. In recent weeks, he fired an inspector general involved in the inquiry that led to the president’s impeachment, nominated a White House aide to another key inspector general post overseeing virus relief spending and moved to block still another inspector general from taking over as chairman of a pandemic spending oversight panel.
Mr. Trump has sought to assert more authority over his administration and clear out officials deemed insufficiently loyal in the three months since his Senate impeachment trial on charges of abuse of power and obstruction of Congress ended in acquittal largely along party lines. While inspectors general are appointed by the president, they are meant to be semiautonomous watchdogs ferreting out waste, fraud and corruption in executive agencies.
The purge has continued unabated even during the coronavirus pandemic that has claimed about 65,000 lives in the United States. Ms. Grimm’s case in effect merged the conflict over Mr. Trump’s response to the outbreak with his determination to sweep out those he perceives to be speaking out against him.
Her report, released last month and based on extensive interviews with hospitals around the country, identified critical shortages of supplies, revealing that hundreds of medical centers were struggling to obtain test kits, protective gear for staff members and ventilators. Mr. Trump was embarrassed by the report at a time he was already under fire for playing down the threat of the virus and not acting quickly enough to ramp up testing and provide equipment to doctors and nurses.
“It’s just wrong,” the president said when asked about the report on April 6. “Did I hear the word ‘inspector general’? Really? It’s wrong. And they’ll talk to you about it. It’s wrong.” He then sought to find out who wrote the report. “Where did he come from, the inspector general? What’s his name? No, what’s his name? What’s his name?”
When the reporter did not know, Mr. Trump insisted. “Well, find me his name,” the president said. “Let me know.” He expressed no interest in the report’s findings except to categorically reject them sight unseen.
After learning that Ms. Grimm had worked during President Barack Obama’s administration, Mr. Trump asserted that the report was politically biased. In fact, Ms. Grimm is not a political appointee but a career official who began working in the inspector general office late in President Bill Clinton’s administration and served under President George W. Bush as well as Mr. Obama. She took over the office in an acting capacity when the previous inspector general stepped down.
Mr. Trump was undaunted and attacked her on Twitter. “Why didn’t the I.G., who spent 8 years with the Obama Administration (Did she Report on the failed H1N1 Swine Flu debacle where 17,000 people died?), want to talk to the Admirals, Generals, V.P. & others in charge, before doing her report,” he wrote, mischaracterizing the government’s generally praised response the 2009 epidemic that actually killed about 12,000 in the United States. “Another Fake Dossier!”
To take over as inspector general, Mr. Trump on Friday night named Jason C. Weida, an assistant United States attorney in Boston. The White House said in its announcement that he had “overseen numerous complex investigations in health care and other sectors.” He must be confirmed by the Senate before assuming the position.
Among several other nominations announced on Friday was the president’s choice for a new ambassador to Ukraine, filling a position last occupied by Marie L. Yovanovitch.
Ms. Yovanovitch was ousted a year ago because she was seen as an obstacle by the president’s advisers as they tried to pressure the government in Kyiv to incriminate Mr. Trump’s Democratic rivals. That effort to solicit political benefit from Ukraine, while withholding security aid, led to Mr. Trump’s impeachment largely along party lines in December.
Mr. Trump selected Lt. Gen. Keith W. Dayton, a retired 40-year Army officer now serving as the director of the George C. Marshall European Center for Security Studies in Germany. Mr. Dayton speaks Russian and served as defense attaché in Moscow. More recently, he served as a senior United States defense adviser in Ukraine appointed by Jim Mattis, Mr. Trump’s first defense secretary.

The coronavirus pandemic is shaking bedrock assumptions about U.S. exceptionalism. This is perhaps the first global crisis in more than a century where no one is even looking for Washington to lead.
As images of America’s overwhelmed hospital wards and snaking jobless lines have flickered across the world, people on the European side of the Atlantic are looking at the richest and most powerful nation in the world with disbelief.
“When people see these pictures of New York City they say, ‘How can this happen? How is this possible?’” said Henrik Enderlein, president of the Berlin-based Hertie School, a university focused on public policy. “We are all stunned. Look at the jobless lines. Twenty-two million,” he added.
“I feel a desperate sadness,” said Timothy Garton Ash, a professor of European history at Oxford University and a lifelong and ardent Atlanticist.
The pandemic sweeping the globe has done more than take lives and livelihoods from New Delhi to New York. It is shaking fundamental assumptions about American exceptionalism — the special role the United States played for decades after World War II as the reach of its values and power made it a global leader and example to the world.
Today it is leading in a different way: More than 840,000 Americans have been diagnosed with Covid-19 and at least 46,784 have died from it, more than anywhere else in the world.
As the calamity unfolds, President Trump and state governors are not only arguing over what to do, but also over who has the authority to do it. Mr. Trump has fomented protests against the safety measures urged by scientific advisers, misrepresented facts about the virus and the government response nearly daily, and this week used the virus to cut off the issuing of green cards to people seeking to emigrate to the United States.
“America has not done badly, it has done exceptionally badly,” said Dominique Moïsi, a political scientist and senior adviser at the Paris-based Institut Montaigne.
The pandemic has exposed the strengths and weaknesses of just about every society, Mr. Moïsi noted. It has demonstrated the strength of, and suppression of information by, an authoritarian Chinese state as it imposed a lockdown in the city of Wuhan. It has shown the value of Germany’s deep well of public trust and collective spirit, even as it has underscored the country’s reluctance to step up forcefully and lead Europe.
And in the United States, it has exposed two great weaknesses that, in the eyes of many Europeans, have compounded one another: the erratic leadership of Mr. Trump, who has devalued expertise and often refused to follow the advice of his scientific advisers, and the absence of a robust public health care system and social safety net.
“America prepared for the wrong kind of war,” Mr. Moïsi said. “It prepared for a new 9/11, but instead a virus came.”
“It raises the question: Has America become the wrong kind of power with the wrong kind of priorities?” he asked.
Ever since Mr. Trump moved into the White House and turned America First into his administration’s guiding mantra, Europeans have had to get used to the president’s casual willingness to risk decades-old alliances and rip up international agreements. Early on, he called NATO “obsolete” and withdrew U.S. support from the Paris climate agreement and the Iran nuclear deal.
But this is perhaps the first global crisis in more than a century where no one is even looking to the United States for leadership.
In Berlin, Germany’s foreign minister, Heiko Maas, has said as much.
China took “very authoritarian measures, while in the U.S., the virus was played down for a long time,” Mr. Maas recently told Der Spiegel magazine.
“These are two extremes, neither of which can be a model for Europe,” Mr. Maas said.
America once told a story of hope, and not just to Americans. West Germans like Mr. Maas, who grew up on the front line of the Cold War, knew that story by heart, and like many others in the world, believed it.
But nearly three decades later, America’s story is in trouble.
The country that helped defeat fascism in Europe 75 years ago next month, and defended democracy on the continent in the decades that followed, is doing a worse job of protecting its own citizens than many autocracies and democracies.
There is a special irony: Germany and South Korea, both products of enlightened postwar American leadership, have become potent examples of best practices in the coronavirus crisis.
But critics now see America failing not only to lead the world’s response, but letting down its own people as well.
“There is not only no global leadership, there is no national and no federal leadership in the United States,” said Ricardo Hausmann, director of the Growth Lab at Harvard’s Center for International Development. “In some sense this is the failure of leadership of the U.S. in the U.S.”
Of course, some countries in Europe have also been overwhelmed by the virus, with the number of dead from Covid-19 much higher as a percentage of the population in Italy, Spain and France than in the United States. But they were struck sooner and had less time to prepare and react.
The contrast between how the United States and Germany responded to the virus is particularly striking.
While Chancellor Angela Merkel has been criticized for not taking a forceful enough leadership role in Europe, Germany is being praised for a near-textbook response to the pandemic, at least by Western standards. That is thanks to a robust public health care system, but also a strategy of mass testing and trusted and effective political leadership.
Ms. Merkel has done what Mr. Trump has not. She has been clear and honest about the risks with voters and swift in her response. She has rallied all 16 state governors behind her. A trained physicist, she has followed scientific advice and learned from best practice elsewhere.
Not long ago, Ms. Merkel was considered a spent force, having announced that this would be her last term. Now her approval ratings are at 80 percent.
“She has the mind of a scientist and the heart of a pastor’s daughter,” Mr. Garton Ash said.
Mr. Trump, in a hurry to restart the economy in an election year, has appointed a panel of business executives to chart a course out of the lockdown.
Ms. Merkel, like everyone, would like to find a way out, too, but this week she warned Germans to remain cautious. She is listening to the advice of a multidisciplinary panel of 26 academics from Germany’s national academy of science. The panel includes not just medical experts and economists but also behavioral psychologists, education experts, sociologists, philosophers and constitutional experts.
“You need a holistic approach to this crisis,” said Gerald Haug, the academy’s president, who chairs the German panel. “Our politicians get that.”
A climatologist, Mr. Haug used to do research at Columbia University in New York.
The United States has some of the world’s best and brightest minds in science, he said. “The difference is, they’re not being listened to.”
“It’s a tragedy,” he added.
Some cautioned that the final history of how countries fare after the pandemic is still a long way from being written.
A pandemic is a very specific kind of stress test for political systems, said Mr. Garton Ash, the history professor. The military balance of power has not shifted at all. The United States remains the world’s largest economy. And it was entirely unclear what global region would be best equipped to kick-start growth after a deep recession.
“All of our economies are going to face a terrible test,” he said. “No one knows who will come out stronger at the end.”
Benjamin Haddad, a French researcher at the Atlantic Council, wrote that while the pandemic was testing U.S. leadership, it is “too soon to tell” if it would do long-term damage.
“It is possible that the United States will resort to unexpected resources, and at the same time find a form of national unity in its foreign policy regarding the strategic rivalry with China, which it has been lacking until now,” Mr. Haddad wrote.
There is another wild card in the short term, Mr. Moïsi pointed out. The United States has an election in November. That, and the aftermath of the deepest economic crisis since the 1930s, might also affect the course of history.
The Great Depression gave rise to America’s New Deal. Maybe the coronavirus will lead the United States to embrace a stronger public safety net and develop a national consensus for more accessible health care, Mr. Moïsi suggested.
“Europe’s social democratic systems are not only more human, they leave us better prepared and fit to deal with a crisis like this than the more brutal capitalistic system in the United States,” Mr. Moïsi said.
The current crisis, some fear, could act like an accelerator of history, speeding up a decline in influence of both the United States and Europe.
“Sometime in 2021 we come out of this crisis and we will be in 2030,” said Mr. Moïsi. “There will be more Asia in the world and less West.”
Mr. Garton Ash said that the United States should take an urgent warning from a long line of empires that rose and fell.
“To a historian it’s nothing new, that’s what happens,” said Mr. Garton Ash. “It’s a very familiar story in world history that after a certain amount of time a power declines.”
“You accumulate problems, and because you’re such a strong player, you can carry these dysfunctionalities for a long time,” he said. “Until something happens and you can’t anymore.”


https://khn.org/news/the-inside-story-of-how-the-bay-area-got-ahead-of-the-covid-19-crisis/

Sunday was supposed to be a rare day off for Dr. Tomás Aragón after weeks of working around-the-clock.
Instead, the San Francisco public health officer was jolted awake by an urgent 7:39 a.m. text message from his boss.
“Can you set up a call with San Mateo and Santa Clara health officers this a.m., so we can discuss us all getting on the same page this week with aggressive actions, thanks,” said the message from Dr. Grant Colfax, director of San Francisco’s Department of Public Health.
“Will do, getting up now,” Aragón responded.
It was March 15, two days before St. Patrick’s Day, a heavy partying holiday and nightmare scenario for public health officials.
The novel coronavirus was spreading stealthily across the San Francisco Bay Area and public health officials were alarmed by the explosion of deaths in Italy and elsewhere around the globe. Silicon Valley would be next, case counts indicated.
Until then, they had primarily focused on banning mass gatherings. But they knew more had to be done — and wanted to present a united front.
Within a few hours of the text, Bay Area public health leaders jumped on a series of calls to debate options, including the most dramatic — a lockdown order that would shutter businesses, isolate families and force millions of residents to stay home.
They decided they had no choice. And they were able to move swiftly because they had a secret weapon: a decades-long alliance seeded in the early days of the AIDS epidemic that shields them from political blowback when they need to make difficult decisions.
Together, they would issue the nation’s first stay-at-home order, likely saving thousands of lives and charting the course for much of the country. Three days later, Gov. Gavin Newsom followed with his own order for California. New York came next, as have dozens of states since.
“This was one exhausting and difficult day for all of us,” Aragón later wrote in his journal. “We all wish we did not have to do this.”
Now, officials nationwide are weighing how to lift isolation orders as the rate of COVID-19 transmission slows — and protests against the orders mount. The Bay Area is again poised to lead, but with a warning: All of this could be for naught if it isn’t done right.
The coalition of county public health officers didn’t set out to lock down the Bay Area that fateful Sunday morning in mid-March. But as they discussed the exponential increase in Santa Clara County cases, where the hospitals were becoming overwhelmed by infected patients falling ever sicker, what they needed to do “started to crystalize,” said Dr. Sara Cody, the county’s public health officer.
“It felt huge to me,” she recalled, “because I knew how disruptive it would be.”
Elsewhere in the region, diagnosed cases were sparse. But decades of experience had shown the health officers that while they represent different jurisdictions, they are one region when it comes to infectious diseases. “We knew that it would be a matter of time before that was our experience,” said Dr. Matt Willis, Marin County’s public health officer, who contracted COVID-19 days later.
Cody told her colleagues that Italy was under siege, and her county was just two weeks away from a similar fate. If she could have locked down sooner, she told them, she would have.
“That was compelling,” said Dr. Lisa Hernandez, the public health officer for the city of Berkeley, which had not yet recorded any cases of community transmission. “We knew there was going to be St. Patrick’s Day parades and celebrations, so the timing was critical.”
Dr. Scott Morrow, California’s longest-serving public health officer, who heads operations in San Mateo County, said he also felt the urgency. “We thought, ‘Yes, the clock is ticking,’” he recalled.
County health officers in California have immense power to act independently in the interest of public health, including the authority to issue legally binding directives. They don’t need permission from the governor or mayors or county supervisors to act.
Even for this group, though, with all its collective strength, telling millions of Californians to shelter in place seemed risky at first. But the health officers involved had grown to trust one another, even if they don’t always see eye to eye.
For instance, they currently disagree on whether to require residents to wear face coverings. Some counties, including San Francisco and Marin, are requiring them in public, while others, like Santa Clara, are not.
On the first Sunday morning call, Aragón floated the idea of developing a coordinated recommendation that Bay Area residents stay at home. By the next confab, Cody, Santa Clara County’s health official, made the case that for social distancing to work, it had to be an order.
“Sara Cody was the courageous leader!” Aragón later wrote in his journal.
So forceful a move can be unpopular, but evidence shows it can also be the most effective, in the absence of treatment or a vaccine. “Here’s the rub on these methods — they only work if you do it really early,” said Dr. Howard Markel, a medical historian at the University of Michigan and an expert on the 1918 flu pandemic.
“When you do a quarantine, you stop the commerce, you stop the flow of money,” he said. “But on the other side of that are those whose lives are saved.”
This isn’t the group’s first pandemic. The alliance, formally called the Association of Bay Area Health Officials, was born in 1985 in the early days of the AIDS epidemic.
Dr. David Werdegar, who became health officer for San Francisco that year, was analyzing AIDS data for surrounding counties and asked their health officers to join him for dinner at Jack’s, an old bordello-turned-political hangout in the city that has since shuttered.
Most of the infectious disease research was happening in San Francisco at the time, but HIV was spreading, and one city couldn’t fight it alone.
“It was important that we share all the information we had,” said Werdegar, now in his 80s and retired.
Dr. Robert Melton, a former Monterey County health officer, said that working for nearly two decades with Bay Area public health giants taught him tremendous lessons. “Camaraderie is important in maintaining the energy to be able to focus on the common good, through good and bad,” he said.
That close-knit relationship among the 13 health officers — representing counties stretching across a large swath of Northern California from Napa to Monterey — continues to this day. Collectively, their public health actions touch about 8.5 million people.
They meet monthly and communicate regularly on Slack, a messaging app. Their diverse backgrounds and expertise, especially in an era of funding cuts, provide a deep well of public health knowledge from which to draw. Together, the group has joined forces to combat youth vaping, air pollution and measles outbreaks.
And they have also tackled various influenza scares, which is why they had an emergency response blueprint at the ready when cases of what would later be called COVID-19 first cropped up in Wuhan, China.
“We spent a couple years as a region thinking about pandemic planning, and that really helped us come a long way thinking about these policies for COVID-19,” said Dr. Erica Pan, the interim health officer for Alameda County.
So when they jumped on the call that Sunday, they were already in mid-conversation about how to respond. They brought their lawyers and, working into the predawn hours, translated their lockdown plan into legalese, one that would be enforceable with fines and misdemeanor charges.
They would make prime-time announcements across the region the next day, alongside elected officials. “This is not the moment for half-measures,” said San Jose Mayor Sam Liccardo. “History won’t forgive us for waiting an hour more.”
At first, the stay-at-home order applied just to the “Big Seven” counties surrounding the San Francisco Bay, whose officers peeled off from the larger group to issue it first. They shared their model ordinance with the others, who quickly followed.
Dr. Gail Newel, an OB-GYN and Santa Cruz County’s health officer, is not an infectious disease expert. She has relied heavily on the group’s expertise throughout her career, and especially now.
“It’s this incredible bank of knowledge and wisdom and experience that’s freely shared among the members,” she said. “And the whole Bay Area benefits by that shared knowledge bank.”
Roughly one month after they made the unprecedented decision to close the local economy, the risk seems to have paid off. It will be years before researchers have fully analyzed its impact, but officials across the Bay Area are cautiously optimistic. Others haven’t been so lucky.
Though there are important differences between the two regions, New York City, which issued a stay-at-home order four days after the Bay Area, saw its hospitals completely overwhelmed and had recorded more than 14,600 deaths as of Monday.
By comparison, the counties represented by the alliance have documented more than 215 deaths and hospitals haven’t been overtaken by a surge. In fact, hospitals brought online specifically to accommodate an overflow of patients are sitting largely empty.
Even within California, communities that waited to issue lockdown orders have emerged as COVID-19 hot spots, including Los Angeles, where Mayor Eric Garcetti followed suit three days after the Bay Area.
Internally, some of the Bay Area health officials have wondered if they made the right call. But “anytime I have any doubt, I just read another news report from New York or Detroit or New Orleans,” said Dr. Chris Farnitano, Contra Costa County’s health officer.
And the close-knit band is already undertaking its next task: reopening the economy without causing another spike in cases.
Before the orders are lifted, the officials say there must be rapid, widespread testing across the population. They want to hire disease investigators by the hundreds, if not the thousands, to trace the virus and quarantine those who have been infected. And until there is a vaccine, they may ask people to wear masks in public and continue social distancing, even in bars, restaurants and schools when they reopen.
“I was concerned that we might get a lot of resistance and it might get interpreted as alarmist and overreach,” said Marin County’s Willis. “Time has shown that it was really a vital step to take when we took it.”