‘Welcome to the front line’: COVID ministry revealed heroes

Since 2009, the biggest event at Good Shepherd Parish has been our St. Joseph Table on March 19, the solemnity of St. Joseph.

So, it was with great dismay that I received notice on March 16, 2020, that all public Masses and events in the Archdiocese of New Orleans had to be canceled due to COVID-19. It was sad that the Mass I celebrated for the solemnity of St. Joseph was only with a small group of parishioners rather than the usual large group of schoolchildren and friends of Italian ancestry.

Little did I know at that time how much my priestly ministry was going to change later that day.

Touro Infirmary is located within our parish boundaries and is ministered to by my housemate, Father Doug Brougher. Touro also was the first hotbed of COVID-19 infections in New Orleans.

In consultation with the hospital administration, it was decided that Father Doug shouldn’t interact with COVID-19 patients due to his advanced age. That left me to give the sacrament of the sick to those who were dying.

In the afternoon after Mass, I was given a list of nine Catholic patients who needed the sacrament. What surprised me was that they were located throughout the hospital, rather than being isolated in the ICU wards. I didn’t have any idea of the situation into which I was walking – a hospital filled to the brim with COVID-19 patients.

Every parish where I’ve served as a priest has had a hospital located within its boundaries, so I’m no stranger to hospital ministry. More than a few times, I’ve been asked to anoint patients in isolation rooms.

I arrived that day at the room for the first patient on the list, and the nurse instructed me that I needed a gown, a set of latex gloves and the acclaimed N95 mask. The protocol usually is to anoint the person and then take off the PPE before leaving the room, but the nurse told me I should keep it on because my patient, and the one in the adjacent room, both needed anointing, and they were both COVID-19 positive.

“Oh, and don’t throw away the N95 mask, because we don’t have many of them,” she added.

After I had completed my first two anointings, I made my way to the room for the third person on my list. When I got there, the nurse said I would need a gown, two sets of gloves, my N95 mask, and a face shield.

“At the last room, they didn’t make me wear a face shield or double gloves,” I told her.

“Well,” she said, “we’re kind of learning as we go along.”

After my last anointing of the day, I spent a little time reflecting with the nurses in the ward. One of them told me, “Welcome to the front line.”

I then asked whether I should worry about being around people, specifically my 83-year-old mother. Another nurse told me her mom was over 80 and lived next door to her.

“When I get home, I take off my clothes in the backyard, I sanitize them, then I take a long shower,” she told me. “Then I wave to my mom through the window.”

So began a very complicated three months of hospital ministry, especially as it affected my interactions with people outside of the hospital.

I experienced great camaraderie with the nurses at Touro. I was only in the hospital for brief periods of time, yet they were there for an entire 12-hour shift.

I also experienced a particular closeness to Blessed Francis Xavier Seelos, who died in 1867 ministering to victims of yellow fever in the parish adjacent to my own. I credit both the counsel of the nurses and the intercession of Blessed Seelos that I did not catch COVID-19 or transmit it to anyone else.

Msgr. Christopher Nalty is pastor of Good Shepherd Parish (St. Stephen Church) in New Orleans.