I am not the President of the United States. If I were, I would probably be tweeting. And what I would be tweeting would be information and stories about how exhausted doctors in New York are working long hours and fighting for their patients’ lives. I’d be thanking the nurses who watch patient after patient die and retreat to cry in private. I’d be talking about the medical students who have graduated early to be drafted into Operation Kick Pandemic Ass. I’d be talking about more junior med students who are volunteering as gophers to run errands, provide childcare, deliver coffee and food, and otherwise take care of medical personnel who don’t even have time to sit down. I would tweet things that our medical personnel need to hear right now. I’d let them know we have their back. I’d let all those paramedics and RNs and LPNs know that they’re going to get affordable access to health insurance or student loan relief and all the PPE I can find for them because by God do they ever deserve the help right now. I’d give them a number to call if they’re feeling hopeless and suddenly alone in the dark because they just watched too many patients die, because I wouldn’t want to lose them to despair or suicide. I’d let them know we’re thinking about them and that their country thanks them for their service. If I regarded myself as a “wartime President,” I’d be thanking our “military” in scrubs profusely, and I’d be telling our people about who our heroes are. At 8 p.m. each night, I’d say, “LET’S GO HOWL FOR THE MEDICAL PEOPLE, AMERICANS!” and I’d post a video of me and my family howling. Because if I was going to be silly on Twitter, I’d be silly for a good purpose. That’s what I would do if I were President.
As a private citizen, I’ll say to the medical people who are among my contacts and whose time reading blogs or Facebook has been limited by how overwhelmed many of them are: Thank you for everything you’re doing. My family and I thank you for your service. We’re so glad we’ve got you. Thank you.