For Amy Halvorsen, the summer of 2021-22 replays in dark, disjointed flashes. Sixteen-hour shifts, sweaty PPE “like being wrapped in hot plastic”, and a potent mix of fear and fatigue hanging in the air. “It’s a surreal fog,” says the 32-year-old, who worked as a nurse in the neurosurgery and trauma wards at Sydney’s Westmead Hospital.
As Omicron cases surged around the country, hospitals – despite contrary declarations from politicians – struggled to cope. In New South Wales, ambulances were banked up outside emergency departments for up to five hours, triage tents were erected and patients were treated in corridors and hallways, with resuscitation rooms crammed full. Then, in the first week of January, more than 3800 healthcare workers were furloughed due to Covid exposure or infection, leaving those still standing feeling more vulnerable than ever.
“That was scary and confusing,” remembers Halvorsen. “We had no management [handling the crisis] – they were all on holidays. In my ward we were two nurses down on every shift; in a team of six or seven, that’s a third of our staff gone. To put that into perspective, that’s [a loss of] one set of hands for CPR,
