Lethe200
Senior Member
- Location
- San Francisco Bay Area
This is a terrific follow-up interview with this amazing man, conducted Jan 22, 2021. He is normally the KC Chiefs' RG, helping to protect Mahomes but took the year off to work as a first responder. I've edited the article for length (Washington Post is subscriber only).
His team is going to the Super Bowl. He’s staying on the coronavirus front lines.
Laurent Duvernay-Tardif says the past seven months have redefined his notion of heroism but reinforced how he values sports.
Washington Post Feb. 1, 2021
This season, Laurent Duvernay-Tardif traded his uniform for a white coat.
Duvernay-Tardif did not play a down this season, but he was a towering figure of this surreal NFL year. In July, shortly before training camps opened, Duvernay-Tardif opted out of the season so he could work at the covid-19-stricken long-term-care facility near his native Montreal, putting to use the medical degree he earned from McGill University, which he finished during the first four years of his pro career. He traded his helmet for a mask and face shield.
The fall and winter have given Duvernay-Tardif, who turns 30 this month, new admiration for orderlies and nurses who have cared for vulnerable patients and witnessed tragedy while risking their health for low pay. The past seven months have redefined his notion of heroism but reinforced how much he values sports. He believes he made the right decision, but at times he questioned it, and he wonders how he will feel about it a decade from now.
Duvernay-Tardif wrestled with the choice. He wondered what his future in the NFL would be if he sat out. He feared letting down his teammates. Cases had started to subside by late summer; what if he opted out for no reason?
He also thought about his future as part of the medical community, and he wanted to look back and know he did the right thing. He did not want the professionals in his field questioning him for the rest of his career. He believed in the NFL’s plan to keep players safe, but the idea of getting infected and spreading the virus in the community mortified him.
In late July, he called [his agent] and told him, “I’m not going to play this year.” He called Reid, who offered support. “It’s tremendous dedication to his profession … and mainly to the people that he gets to help,” Reid said later. On July 24, with a lengthy public statement, Duvernay-Tardif became the first NFL player to opt out of the season.
His job changed based on the needs of the facility and how the virus coursed through patients. In calm times, he performed nursing work — administering medication and IVs, drawing blood. When cases mounted and sanitation made every task take longer, he fed and bathed patients.
Duvernay-Tardif worked in the yellow zone. When patients on the floor tested positive, they and all patients in their vicinity needed to be moved to the red zone. Many of the patients had dementia and had little outside contact for months. Duvernay-Tardif could sense their fear and lack of comprehension for what was happening when he, a large man in a mask and visor, rushed in to wheel them out. But even though he wanted to comfort them, he knew he could only expose himself so much with personal touch.
“It’s hard to be human in those situations,” he said. He took a lot of patients from the yellow zone to the red zone. “And then you cross your fingers they come back up,” he said. “And some don’t.”
Amid the suffering, Duvernay-Tardif experienced moments that buoyed him. He treated a young man who had been in a terrible accident and had not had contact with anyone outside the hospital in weeks. Duvernay-Tardif sensed despair in him. “Come on,” Duvernay-Tardif told him one day. “Let’s find your wife’s number.” He used his own phone to make a FaceTime call. When they saw each other’s faces for the first time in two months, the man and his wife cried.
“You cry, too,” Duvernay-Tardif said. “What else is there to do?”
Duvernay-Tardif has convinced himself he made the right choice. The virus again exploded in the United States and invaded several locker rooms, including that of the Chiefs. His football career will last a few more years, at most, and the rest of his life he will be with doctors and medical workers. They will know the most consequential choice of his professional career erred on the side of medicine.
“But who knows?” he said. “Who knows how I’m going to feel 10 years from now?”
The experience, he said, has made him a better doctor. Caring for the elderly, he saw how their state of mind can fluctuate in subtle ways. Only the nurses and orderlies know them well enough to understand what those changes mean, and as a doctor, he must lean on their feedback. Teamwork translates from one profession to the other.
“Division in a time of crisis is so detrimental,” he said. “We’ve got to trust the science. We’ve got to stay together. That’s how we’re going to get through this. That’s why we need sport, too. You forget about politics, you forget about everything, and you focus on something that brings people together. We need more of that. … And we’ve got to acknowledge that some people are making a tremendous amount of sacrifices to keep us safe.”
In December, Duvernay-Tardif took about a month off. As the Chiefs were preparing for the AFC championship game, he received a vaccine dose and returned to work. He is back at Gertrude-Lafrance, administering IVs to the sick and dying, making sure they can eat their soup while it’s still hot.
His team is going to the Super Bowl. He’s staying on the coronavirus front lines.
Laurent Duvernay-Tardif says the past seven months have redefined his notion of heroism but reinforced how he values sports.
Washington Post Feb. 1, 2021
This season, Laurent Duvernay-Tardif traded his uniform for a white coat.
Duvernay-Tardif did not play a down this season, but he was a towering figure of this surreal NFL year. In July, shortly before training camps opened, Duvernay-Tardif opted out of the season so he could work at the covid-19-stricken long-term-care facility near his native Montreal, putting to use the medical degree he earned from McGill University, which he finished during the first four years of his pro career. He traded his helmet for a mask and face shield.
The fall and winter have given Duvernay-Tardif, who turns 30 this month, new admiration for orderlies and nurses who have cared for vulnerable patients and witnessed tragedy while risking their health for low pay. The past seven months have redefined his notion of heroism but reinforced how much he values sports. He believes he made the right decision, but at times he questioned it, and he wonders how he will feel about it a decade from now.
Duvernay-Tardif wrestled with the choice. He wondered what his future in the NFL would be if he sat out. He feared letting down his teammates. Cases had started to subside by late summer; what if he opted out for no reason?
He also thought about his future as part of the medical community, and he wanted to look back and know he did the right thing. He did not want the professionals in his field questioning him for the rest of his career. He believed in the NFL’s plan to keep players safe, but the idea of getting infected and spreading the virus in the community mortified him.
In late July, he called [his agent] and told him, “I’m not going to play this year.” He called Reid, who offered support. “It’s tremendous dedication to his profession … and mainly to the people that he gets to help,” Reid said later. On July 24, with a lengthy public statement, Duvernay-Tardif became the first NFL player to opt out of the season.
His job changed based on the needs of the facility and how the virus coursed through patients. In calm times, he performed nursing work — administering medication and IVs, drawing blood. When cases mounted and sanitation made every task take longer, he fed and bathed patients.
Duvernay-Tardif worked in the yellow zone. When patients on the floor tested positive, they and all patients in their vicinity needed to be moved to the red zone. Many of the patients had dementia and had little outside contact for months. Duvernay-Tardif could sense their fear and lack of comprehension for what was happening when he, a large man in a mask and visor, rushed in to wheel them out. But even though he wanted to comfort them, he knew he could only expose himself so much with personal touch.
“It’s hard to be human in those situations,” he said. He took a lot of patients from the yellow zone to the red zone. “And then you cross your fingers they come back up,” he said. “And some don’t.”
Amid the suffering, Duvernay-Tardif experienced moments that buoyed him. He treated a young man who had been in a terrible accident and had not had contact with anyone outside the hospital in weeks. Duvernay-Tardif sensed despair in him. “Come on,” Duvernay-Tardif told him one day. “Let’s find your wife’s number.” He used his own phone to make a FaceTime call. When they saw each other’s faces for the first time in two months, the man and his wife cried.
“You cry, too,” Duvernay-Tardif said. “What else is there to do?”
Duvernay-Tardif has convinced himself he made the right choice. The virus again exploded in the United States and invaded several locker rooms, including that of the Chiefs. His football career will last a few more years, at most, and the rest of his life he will be with doctors and medical workers. They will know the most consequential choice of his professional career erred on the side of medicine.
“But who knows?” he said. “Who knows how I’m going to feel 10 years from now?”
The experience, he said, has made him a better doctor. Caring for the elderly, he saw how their state of mind can fluctuate in subtle ways. Only the nurses and orderlies know them well enough to understand what those changes mean, and as a doctor, he must lean on their feedback. Teamwork translates from one profession to the other.
“Division in a time of crisis is so detrimental,” he said. “We’ve got to trust the science. We’ve got to stay together. That’s how we’re going to get through this. That’s why we need sport, too. You forget about politics, you forget about everything, and you focus on something that brings people together. We need more of that. … And we’ve got to acknowledge that some people are making a tremendous amount of sacrifices to keep us safe.”
In December, Duvernay-Tardif took about a month off. As the Chiefs were preparing for the AFC championship game, he received a vaccine dose and returned to work. He is back at Gertrude-Lafrance, administering IVs to the sick and dying, making sure they can eat their soup while it’s still hot.
