LAST LINE OF DEFENCE
Double-lung transplant recipient Tina Proulx’s home is a ‘safe zone’ kept clean of anything that might make her ill. It’s a matter of life and death but panic buying of hand sanitizers and disinfectants leave her vulnerable,
For Tina Proulx and other organ transplant patients like her, the arrival of COVID-19 in Ottawa is just like any other day.
“The scary thing with COVID is we don’t know much about it,” said Proulx, who received a double lung transplant in December 2015. “But as far as the actual virus itself, it doesn’t scare me any more than anything else ... everything can kill me.”
For transplant patients, the fear of infection is a daily fact of life.
They take drugs that suppress their immune system to reduce the risk their new organ will be rejected. Proulx’s life depends on the hand sanitizer and sanitizing wipes that are now being swept off store shelves and stockpiled by panicked shoppers.
“We’ve always taken the precautions that everyone is taking now because of this one virus,” she said. “But it’s more difficult to find the products that we need and we use every day in order to keep me safe.”
A meme being circulated among the transplant community shows a crowd of panicked shoppers with the slogan “The Masses: Clean wipe and wash everything, touch nothing, everything is dangerous!”
Below is a picture of Brad Pitt from the movie Fight Club. It says, “Transplant Warriors: Welcome to the Club.”
“It makes me wonder what people were doing before,” said Laura Bradley, 32, who received a heart transplant when she was 13. “If it was something you do regularly, you’d already have those supplies. You wouldn’t need to clean out the store.
“We haven’t needed to restock, but we wouldn’t be able to anyway. The stores really are sold out. It would be time when I’d like to have some more, but I can’t get any right now.”
Bradley, who said she’s “a little bit of a germaphobe” and wears long sleeves so she can pull her sleeve down to open doors, has even gone so far as to move out of her home when family members were sick. But she said that in her job at St. Paul’s University she has had clients sneeze or cough in her face.
“I love going to the movies, but I don’t think I’ll do that for a while now,” she said.
Proulx said she tries to lead as normal a life as possible.
“I didn’t get a transplant just to stay in the house,” she said.
“But to ease the constant fear of infection, she and her husband have established several “safe zones,” where she can let down her guard. One is the inside of their car, which they wipe down with disinfectant and, when they get in, won’t touch anything until they’ve disinfected their hands.
Their home is another. Any visitor is asked to put their phone in “phone soak” for 10 minutes where it’s cleansed with ultraviolet light.
All groceries are wiped down with disinfecting clothes before being put on the shelf.
The couple does their grocery shopping at off-peak times when stores are less crowded. And they’ve developed a keen sense of others’ illnesses.
“If it’s too crowded and I feel uncomfortable I have a mask that I’ll wear,” she said. “We’re very good at things like ‘I heard a cough over there’ or ‘that person’s got the sniffles so let’s go in the other direction.’ It’s a whole new way of living. It’s kind of like the zombie apocalypse. It’s a totally different lifestyle, but it works for us and I’m alive because of it.
“When I speak to people, a lot of times they’re shocked at the precautions I need to take. I don’t think they understand what happens when I get sick,” she said.
“I think a lot of people think that once you’ve passed a certain point that rejection is no longer a fear. But rejection is always a fear for transplant patients. It could happen at any time. You could be perfectly well one day, then bam, you’re in rejection.”
Getting sick, whether it’s from COVID -19, the flu or even a simple cold, will kick her immune system into high gear and potentially lead to an organ rejection.
“There’s a lot more at stake for transplant patients. People don’t understand that. What gives them the sniffles could potentially kill me,” Proulx said.
Pierre Lachaîne, 66, had a kidney transplant 13 years ago. The importance of avoiding infection and not touching his face was drilled into him even before he’d left the hospital. He depends on hand sanitizer, but was unable to find any in Ottawa. His sister scoured stores in Montreal and sent him two bottles in the mail.
“All the talk about hand washing for COVID-19, we have to act like that all the time,” Lachaîne said. “There’s so many opportunities to pick up something. But the thing is, when you’re taking public transit, or touching elevator buttons or getting fast food, you’re going to pick up something.”
Proulx and her husband said they “got creative” to restock their supplies, searching stores where others might not think to look. They couldn’t find the large refill bags of Purell they normally buy, so bought another product instead.
“It was twice the price, so instead of paying $150 we paid $300. But to us it’s a necessity. It’s part of my lifestyle,” she said. “In some sense I’m very happy that people are taking it seriously and taking precautions, but at the same time it’s frustrating for transplant patients who need this stuff to stay alive.”
There’s a lot more at stake for transplant patients. People don’t understand ... what gives them the sniffles could ... kill me.