Patricia Johnson is an emergency room nurse at the Southwestern Vermont Medical Center. Seen at home in Bennington on Monday, March 1, 2021. Photo by Glenn Russell/VTDigger

BENNINGTON — Patricia Johnson hears the dings and whistles of the emergency room when she falls asleep, sometimes in the early morning hours after a night shift.

Johnson alternates between the day and the night shift as an emergency room nurse at Southwestern Vermont Medical Center. Before her night shifts, she drops the kids at her parents’ house, then leaves work at 6:30 a.m., and often heads straight to her second job at Recovery House, Inc., an hour away in Wallingford, where she’s the nurse manager. 

Then she tries to catch a few hours of sleep, and when she wakes up, she’ll take her three kids to sports practice or help them with virtual school. One week in mid-February, she was focused on helping her youngest son sign into his online classroom. Bennington County’s rate of Covid-19 cases led New England until recently, and her youngest son’s school had temporarily pivoted to all-remote.

Virus in Vermont on blue background

Johnson, a single mother, switched careers four years ago and considers nursing a dream job, an ideal match for her skills, even though it often leaves her exhausted. 

Before she became a nurse, she worked no fewer than two — and often three — different jobs, drawing on her degrees in criminal justice and leadership management. Several odd jobs in between paid the bills, lifeguarding and waitressing, for example. 

“I mean, name it,” she said. “Blockbuster.”

Some of this work, like a post in the Department of Corrections, exposed Johnson to flaws in the system that kept families from accessing the help they needed. Friends suggested that Johnson might have more impact in a career as a nurse. She gave it some thought, then asked her parents for help — she hadn’t yet paid off her existing student loans — and enrolled in nursing school. 

“I’ve always had a strong presence of mentorship in my life, people who took me under their wing, saw potential in me and knew that I deserved better and that my kiddos deserve better,” she said. 

Four years into her career, Johnson said nursing has given her many opportunities. It has brought her financial stability and, comparatively, more time with her kids. Still, the pandemic has generated stressors she didn’t see coming. 

She sees trauma regularly, she said, and patients are looking for reassurance that she can’t always give. The emotional byproduct trickles into the rest of her life. 

“You’re just so burnt out from giving so much to others that it’s difficult for you to give when you’re at home,” she said.

Johnson’s identity as an African American heightens her vigilance when caring for marginalized patients. She’s acutely aware of how Covid-19 disproportionately affects people of color, people living in poverty and people with disabilities. 

Nationally, the death rate of Black Americans who contract Covid-19 is almost twice that of white Americans. For Hispanic Americans, that number increases to 2.3 times the death rate of white Americans, and Native Americans have an even higher death rate of 2.5 times white Americans. 

When Covid-19 first hit the state, Black Vermonters tested positive at a rate higher than any other racial group. Data reported in December showed that Vermonters who are Black, Indigenous or people of color represent a total of 6% of the state’s population, but 18% of Covid-19 cases. 

Johnson has tried to connect with people of color and marginalized groups on Facebook, asking whether they’ve signed up for the vaccine, if they are getting adequate healthcare, and if they have access to clinicians who are people of color. 

“I overcompensate,” she said. “It’s exhausting.”

That burden keeps Johnson up at night. She’s found that she isn’t the only one who feels it — she’s joined a group of other nurses of color across the state who provide mentorship and who she helps to mentor. 

She said marginalized groups are often aware of the ways they’re still stigmatized in the healthcare industry. Someone with a substance abuse problem, for example, may not come in for treatment until an infection has progressed because they fear judgment.

“I don’t want to let them down,” she said. “I want to let them know, ‘I’m here for you. And I’m going to give you the care that you deserve and the care that you’re entitled to.’ And that’s equal care.”

Johnson said the responsibility adds another layer of pressure and anxiety.

“I know that I have to lead by example,” she said. “I’m up for that challenge.”

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