While getting a tour of Northwest Pediatrics from Medical Director Dr. Jennifer Polley, one might assume that Polley always wanted to go into pediatrics. She talks about how fascinating the medical challenges are; she describes little masked faces peering through her office window; she gleefully shows off the colorful murals her nephew painted on the walls.
But Polley tells of a fairly unusual path to medicine. Decades ago, she was living in Europe, working on her PhD in French after studying French and philosophy. But she decided it wasn’t for her.
“So there I was at 23, and what am I going to do?” she said. “Honestly, I prayed a lot about it. What can I do that’s challenging but will also be serving?”
Back in her home state of New York, she was stuck between medicine, theology, and law. The decision to pursue medicine was largely steered by faith. Years later, after moving and helping found Northwest Pediatrics, Polley still describes working with families and children as a “sacred space.”
Plus, she’s a big fan of kids.
“Oh my gosh. Kids are just — I can still barely talk about it. They’re so full of hope and wonder, you know?” she said. “They know how to live in the moment, they know how to see and get joy in simple things.”
And, she added, “they’re hysterical.” Laughing, she described a youngster that morning who remarked joyfully — to her, the medical director — “remember to wash your hands!”
Walking by boxes of masks and goggles, Polley explained how everything shifted when the pandemic hit. Staff had to be moved, patients were seen outside or in their cars, symptomatic kids had to be seen in an isolated wing. “Team COVID,” a group of five staffers, spent hundreds of hours poring over data and research to figure out how to safely operate the center
“We basically changed everything,” Polley said. “Except, hopefully, that we care deeply and we’re doing great medicine.”
A major hurdle was figuring out telemedicine — eventually, Northwest Pediatrics got help from the state to provide some patients with iPhones so they could communicate with providers and attend virtual appointments.
“But then what if you don’t have bandwidth?” she said. “What do you do for those people? Who’s falling through the cracks?”
Polley described her and her staff working 24/7 to adapt. Even at home, Polley is often watching webinars, poring over information from the American Medical Association and national pediatrics organizations.
The pandemic, and the rapid new science being developed to address it, would be truly fascinating, she said, if it wasn’t so devastating.
“I mean, how amazing that they came up with a whole new way to do a vaccine?” She said. “In like nine months. Are you kidding me?”
But it’s hard to focus on that when the pandemic also wreaks havoc on the community. Polley noted that while her staff isn’t attending to severely ill COVID-19 patients, they still see the effect of the virus. Her young patients, for example, are now exhibiting signs of emotional and psychological distress.
“The statistics on mental health right now in kids is devastating,” she said, noting that pediatricians are now seeing kids as young as eight talking about suicide.
A big part of that has to do with school closures, Polley said, since schools are vital for kids’ mental and social development. Northwest Pediatrics has always worked close with schools, but now the medical center is taking on an even bigger role. Recently, public health officials partnered with them to provide free COVID-19 testing to school-aged kids, and Polley herself is involved in the workgroup of superintendents, pediatricians, and public health officials — a group she says is inspiring.
“Talk about sacred space. That has been a game changer for me,” she said. “I have so much respect for them. They have integrity, they’re sharp, they care deeply, passionately, about their school district and their kids.”
The work has been especially impressive to Polley considering the amount of emotion and frustration swirling around in the community. Polarization over masks and other safety measures is something she’s also had to navigate.
“The thing about not wearing masks that breaks my heart is that in the end, we’re shooting ourselves in the foot,” she said, noting that kids are sharing the burden of the pandemic. “In some ways, kids don’t have agency in this. The adults are making the decisions.”
Ultimately, she says getting angry isn’t helpful. Plus, harboring frustration could just exacerbate the burnout healthcare workers are already dealing with.
“It’s just really important to be centered,” Polley noted. “Making space to do that is not always easy.”
For her, that means getting outdoors or just sitting with God. In talking about self-care, it’s clear that Polley has a background in philosophy and the humanities. She brings up a verse from “Aurora Leigh,” an 1856 epic poem, citing a specific verse: “Earth’s crammed with heaven, and every common bush afire with God. But only he who sees takes off his shoes; The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.”
Going forward through the pandemic, Polley said she has her eye on the endgame.
“And we’re going to get there,” she said. “Some of it will be hard. Some of us will lose people. You just never want to compromise who you are because of what’s happening around you.”
