Dark days: A first responder’s candid exposé on managing aged care’s worst pandemic outbreaks

In April 2020, as Australia grappled with the escalating terror of the COVID-19 pandemic, Nicole Smith, gerontologist and now Chief Operating Officer of Community Homes Australia, found herself thrust into the eye of the storm.

“It was April 2020, and I was balancing motherhood, a master’s degree, and running a community café for people with dementia and four-year-olds,” she recalled.

As a mother juggling these demanding roles, Nicole’s life was already a delicate balancing act. But as whispers of an infectious disease morphed into nationwide lockdowns, her expertise and resolve would be tested like never before.

Aged care residents, among the most vulnerable to the virus, were at the heart of Nicole’s concerns. “With aged care residents being among the most vulnerable to COVID-19, even window therapy was no longer allowed.”.

The situation was dire, with reports from the US painting a grim picture of abandoned nursing homes and overwhelmed carers. In Australia, fear turned to chaos, and Nicole was called upon to join a national task force, tasked with writing reports for the Commonwealth. She didn’t hesitate. “I said yes without hesitation,” she notes.

Her journey began in the Blue Mountains, where she admired the resilience of a facility’s response. Soon, however, she was redeployed to Newmarch House, ground zero for Australia’s aged care outbreaks.

Arriving to find a severe shortage of staff, Nicole requested a surge workforce. “Waves of staff began to arrive at Newmarch House,” she recalls, though some fled in fear, and others unwittingly brought the virus inside. “It was a nightmare,” she confessed.

When the Commonwealth asked her to take on the role of Manager at Newmarch, Nicole agreed despite her trepidation. Fate had other plans.

Declared a close contact just two days before starting, she was sidelined to a hotel room. From there, she worked gruelling 16-hour days, coordinating 50 staff members and drafting evacuation plans that later surfaced in the hands of the Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS). “I was discovering how State and Federal governments worked together in real time,” she reflects.

As the crisis deepened, Nicole’s role expanded. Victoria descended into chaos with 227 active outbreaks in aged care facilities, and resources were stretched thin. Her team of twelve Clinical First Responders became a lifeline, crossing borders on empty planes to support overwhelmed homes.

“My colleagues were fearless,” she says, managing rosters and mud maps via WhatsApp while leading teams of hastily assembled staff. “They were superheroes to me,” she adds.

When her turn came to enter the facilities, Nicole faced a situation that felt like a war zone.

Managing seven outbreaks with 16-hour shifts, sleep eluded her for five days, fuelled by “anxiety and adrenaline.” Exhaustion took its toll. “My face was also thinning,” she recalls, until a nurse handed her Valium and insisted she rest.

The emotional weight was crushing. Family members wept outside, phones rang relentlessly, and isolated elders succumbed to delirium when not to the virus itself. “Life-or-death decisions were being made to keep various agencies happy,” she writes, a burden that left deep scars.

The death toll rose, infection rates soared among staff, and entire teams were furloughed. “People were breaking mentally,” Nicole notes, while the media pointed fingers at those on the frontline. Nurses trembled as they held iPads for families to say their final goodbyes. “My heart was breaking for Victoria,” she confessed.

At her lowest, Nicole contemplated walking away. After a day spent “sobbing into my pillow,” she pressed on for five more weeks.

Amid the despair, glimmers of humanity shone through. Commonwealth and State support became a lifeline, and Nicole forged unbreakable bonds with her team. “The sight of families dropping off food to their loved ones and watching them eat through the windows, and the sounds of ’60s music blaring down the hallway while we drew love hearts on those same windows, will stay with me forever,” she shared.

These small acts of connection sustained her through the darkness.

Reflecting on the ordeal, Nicole marvels at the unsung heroes: the Clinical First Responders, aged care teams, nurses from culturally and linguistically diverse (CALD) backgrounds, and those on student visas who saved countless lives.

“People working in government roles, private contractors, and every person working in aged care throughout the pandemic showed immense courage,” she says. Yet the cost was staggering. “To be honest, it has taken me years to emotionally recover from a contract that went on for less than two years,” she admits.

Colleagues remain “completely broken,” battling long-COVID or PTSD, their sacrifices largely unrecognised.

Despite the toll, Nicole’s resolve is unshaken. “If you asked me today if I would do it all again, I would say yes in a heartbeat,” she declares.

Her story is a testament to the resilience of Australia’s aged care warriors, a tribute to those who faced the pandemic’s darkest days with unwavering courage, for the elders, for their communities, and for each other.