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The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.
With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.
It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.
The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.
According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.
So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.
Working on the front lines
Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.
Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.
This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.
They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.
Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.
Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.
“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”
Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.
Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”
Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.
The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.
“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology
In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.
She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.
Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”
Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.
She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.
The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.
Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.
Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.
“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”
Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:
1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.
2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.
3. Be willing to ask for help.
4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.
5. Attend workshops.
6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.
7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.
8. Schedule play.
9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.
10. Consider the benefits of exercise.
11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.
12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.
13. Spend time with loving family and friends.
14. Adopt a pet.
15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.
16. Walk in the rain.
17. Listen to music.
18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.
19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.
20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.
To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.
While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.
The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.
With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.
It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.
The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.
According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.
So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.
Working on the front lines
Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.
Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.
This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.
They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.
Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.
Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.
“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”
Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.
Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”
Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.
The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.
“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology
In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.
She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.
Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”
Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.
She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.
The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.
Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.
Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.
“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”
Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:
1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.
2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.
3. Be willing to ask for help.
4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.
5. Attend workshops.
6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.
7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.
8. Schedule play.
9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.
10. Consider the benefits of exercise.
11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.
12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.
13. Spend time with loving family and friends.
14. Adopt a pet.
15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.
16. Walk in the rain.
17. Listen to music.
18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.
19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.
20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.
To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.
While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.
The mental health toll from the Surfside, Fla., Champlain Tower collapse will be felt by our patients for years to come. As mental health professionals in Miami-Dade County, it has been difficult to deal with the catastrophe layered on the escalating COVID-19 crisis.
With each passing day after the June 24 incident, we all learned who the 98 victims were. In session after session, the enormous impact of this unfathomable tragedy unfolded. Some mental health care professionals were directly affected with the loss of family members; some lost patients, and a large number of our patients lost someone or knew someone who lost someone. It was reminiscent of our work during the COVID-19 crisis when we found that we were dealing with the same stressors as those of our patients. As it was said then, we were all in the same storm – just in very different boats.
It was heartening to see how many colleagues rushed to the site of the building where family waiting areas were established. So many professionals wanted to assist that some had to be turned away.
The days right after the collapse were agonizing for all as we waited and hoped for survivors to be found. Search teams from across the United States and from Mexico and Israel – specifically, Israeli Defense Forces personnel with experience conducting operations in the wake of earthquakes in both Haiti and Nepal, took on the dangerous work. When no one was recovered after the first day, hope faded, and after 10 days, the search and rescue efforts turned to search and recovery. We were indeed a county and community in mourning.
According to Lina Haji, PsyD, GIA Miami, in addition to the direct impact of loss, clinicians who engaged in crisis response and bereavement counseling with those affected by the Surfside tragedy were subjected to vicarious trauma. Mental health care providers in the Miami area not only experienced the direct effect of this tragedy but have been hearing details and harrowing stories about the unimaginable experiences their patients endured over those critical weeks. Vicarious trauma can result in our own symptoms, compassion fatigue, or burnout as clinicians. This resulted in a call for mental health providers to come to the aid of their fellow colleagues.
So, on the 1-month anniversary of the initial collapse, at the urging of Patricia Stauber, RN, LCSW, a clinician with more than 30 years’ experience in providing grief counseling in hospital and private practice settings; Antonello Bonci, MD, the founder of GIA Miami; Charlotte Tomic, director of public relations for the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism; and I cohosted what we hope will be several Mental Health Appreciation retreats. Our goal was to create a space to focus on healing the healers. We had hoped to hold an in-person event, but at the last moment we opted for a Zoom-based event because COVID-19 cases were rising rapidly again.
Working on the front lines
Cassie Feldman, PsyD, a licensed clinical psychologist with extensive experience working with grief, loss, end of life, and responding to trauma-related consults, reflected on her experience responding to the collapse in the earliest days – first independently at the request of community religious leaders and then as part of CADENA Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to rescue, humanitarian aid, and disaster response and prevention worldwide.
Dr. Feldman worked alongside other mental health professionals, local Miami-Dade police and fire officials, and the domestic and international rescue teams (CADENA’s Go Team from Mexico and the Israeli Defense Force’s Search and Rescue Delegation), providing Psychological First Aid, crisis intervention, and disaster response to the victims’ families and survivors.
This initially was a 24-hour coverage effort, requiring Dr. Feldman and her colleagues to clear their schedules, and at times to work 18-hour shifts in the early days of the crisis to address the need for consistency and continuity. Their commitment was to show up for the victims’ families and survivors, fully embracing the chaos and the demands of the situation. She noted that the disaster brought out the best of her and her colleagues.
They divided and conquered the work, alongside clinicians from Jewish Community Services and Project Chai intervening acutely where possible, and coordinating long-term care plans for those survivors and members of the victims’ support networks in need of consistent care.
Dr. Feldman reflected on the notion that we have all been processing losses prior to this – loss of normalcy because of the pandemic, loss of people we loved as a result, other personal losses – and that this community tragedy is yet another loss to disentangle. It didn’t feel good or natural for her to passively absorb the news knowing she had both the skill set and capacity to take on an active supportive role. The first days at the community center were disorganized; it was hard to know who was who and what was what. She described parents crying out for their children and children longing for their parents. Individuals were so overcome with emotion that they grew faint. Friends and families flooded in but were unaware of how to be fully supportive. The level of trauma was so high that the only interventions that were absorbed were those that were nonverbal or that fully addressed practical needs. People were frightened and in a state of shock.
Day by day, more order ensued and the efforts became more coordinated, but it became apparent to her that the “family reunification center” was devoid of reunification. She and her colleagues’ primary role became aiding the police department in making death notifications to the families and being supportive of the victims’ families and their loved ones during and in between the formal briefings, where so many concerned family members and friends gathered and waited.
“As the days went on, things became more structured and predictable,” Dr. Feldman noted. “We continued to connect with the victims’ families and survivors, [listened to] their stories, shared meals with them, spent downtime with them, began to intimately know their loved ones, and all the barriers they were now facing. We became invested in them, their unique intricacies, and to care deeply for them like our own families and loved ones. Small talk and conversation morphed into silent embraces where spoken words weren’t necessary.”
Dr. Feldman said some of her earliest memories were visiting ICU patients alongside her father, a critical care and ICU physician. Her father taught her that nonverbal communication and connection can be offered to patients in the most poignant moments of suffering.
Her “nascent experiences in the ICU,” she said, taught her that “the most useful of interventions was just being with people in their pain and bearing witness at times when there were just no words.”
Dr. Feldman said that when many of her colleagues learned about the switch from rescue to recovery, the pull was to jump in their cars and drive to the hotel where the families were based to offer support.
The unity she witnessed – from the disparate clinicians who were virtual strangers before the incident but a team afterward, from the families and the community, and from the first responders and rescue teams – was inspiring, Dr. Feldman said.
“We were all forced to think beyond ourselves, push ourselves past our limits, and unify in a way that remedied this period in history of deep fragmentation,” she said.
Understanding the role of psychoneuroimmunology
In another presentation during the Zoom event, Ms. Stauber offered her insights about the importance of support among mental health clinicians.
She cited research on women with HIV showing that those who are part of a support group had a stronger immune response than those who were not.
Ms. Stauber said the impact of COVID-19 and its ramifications – including fear, grief over losing loved ones, isolation from friends and family, and interference/cessation of normal routines – has put an enormous strain on clinicians and clients. One of her clients had to take her mother to the emergency room – never to see her again. She continues to ask: “If I’d been there, could I have saved her?”
Another client whose husband died of COVID-19–related illness agonizes over not being able to be at her husband’s side, not being able to hold his hand, not being able to say goodbye.
She said other cultures are more accepting of suffering as a condition of life and the acknowledgment that our time on earth is limited.
The “quick fix for everything” society carries over to people’s grief, said Ms. Stauber. As a result, many find it difficult to appreciate how much time it takes to heal.
Normal uncomplicated grief can take approximately 2-3 years, she said. By then, the shock has been wearing off, the emotional roller coaster of loss is calming down, coping skills are strengthened, and life can once again be more fulfilling or meaningful. Complicated grief or grief with trauma takes much longer, said Ms. Stauber, who is a consultant with a national crisis and debriefing company providing trauma and bereavement support to Fortune 500 companies.
Trauma adds another complexity to loss. To begin to appreciate the rough road ahead, Ms. Stauber said, it is important to understand the basic challenges facing grieving people.
“This is where our profession may be needed; we are providing support for those suffering the immense pain of loss in a world that often has difficulty being present or patient with loss,” she said. “We are indeed providing an emotional life raft.”
Ultimately, self-care is critical, Ms. Stauber said. “Consider self-care a job requirement” to be successful. She also offered the following tips for self-care:
1. Share your own loss experience with a caring and nonjudgmental person.
2. Consider ongoing supervision and consultation with colleagues who understand the nature of your work.
3. Be willing to ask for help.
4. Be aware of risks and countertransference in our work.
5. Attend workshops.
6. Remember that you do not have to and cannot do it all by yourself – we absolutely need more grief and trauma trained therapists.
7. Involve yourself in activities outside of work that feed your soul and nourish your spirit.
8. Schedule play.
9. Develop a healthy self-care regimen to remain present doing this work.
10. Consider the benefits of exercise.
11. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of nature.
12. Consider yoga, meditation, spa retreats – such as Kripalu, Miraval, and Canyon Ranch.
13. Spend time with loving family and friends.
14. Adopt a pet.
15. Eat healthy foods; get plenty of rest.
16. Walk in the rain.
17. Listen to music.
18. Enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.
19. Sing, dance, and enjoy the blessings of this life.
20. Love yourself; you truly can be your own best friend.
To advocate on behalf of mental health for patients, we must do the same for mental health professionals. The retreat was well received, and we learned a lot from our speakers. After the program, we offered a 45-minute yoga class and then 30-minute sound bowl meditation. We plan to repeat the event in September to help our community deal with the ongoing stress of such overwhelming loss.
While our community will never be the same, we hope that, by coming together, we can all find a way to support one another and strive to help ourselves and others manage as we navigate yet another unprecedented crisis.
Dr. Ritvo, who has more than 30 years’ experience in psychiatry, practices telemedicine. She is author of “BeKindr – The Transformative Power of Kindness” (Hellertown, Pa.: Momosa Publishing, 2018). Dr. Ritvo has no disclosures.