Months later, it appears that danger has faded. After the rollout of covid vaccines, the number of new covid cases among nursing home staff members fell 83% — from 28,802 for the week ending Dec. 20 to 4,764 for the week ending Feb. 14, data from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services shows.

New covid-19 infections among nursing home residents fell even more steeply, by 89%, in that period, compared with 58% in the general public, CMS and Johns Hopkins University data shows.

These numbers suggest that "the vaccine appears to be having a dramatic effect on reducing cases, which is extremely encouraging," said Beth Martino, spokesperson for the American Health Care Association and National Center for Assisted Living, an industry group.

"It’s a big relief for me," said Phillips, who works at the North Beach Rehabilitation Center outside Miami. Now, she said, she's urging hesitant co-workers and anyone else who can to "go out and take the vaccination."

After a brutal year in which the pandemic killed half a million Americans, despite unprecedented measures to curb its spread — including mask-wearing, physical distancing, school closures and economic shutdowns — the vaccines are giving hope that an end is in sight.

Noting that more than 3 million doses of vaccine have been doled out in nursing homes, CMS issued new  Wednesday allowing indoor visits in the facilities, even among unvaccinated residents and visitors, under most circumstances.

National figures on health care worker infections in other settings are hard to come by, but some statewide trends look promising. In California and Arkansas, health care worker covid cases have dropped faster than for the general public since December, and in Virginia the number of hospital staffers out of work for covid-related reasons has fallen dramatically.

Research in other countries suggests that vaccines have led to big drops in infection. A of publicly funded hospitals in England indicated that a first dose was 72% effective at preventing covid among workers after 21 days and 86% effective seven days after the second shot. At Sheba Medical Center — Israel's largest hospital, with over 9,600 workers — 170 staff members tested positive from Dec. 19, the first day the vaccine was offered, through Jan. 24. Of those who tested positive, only three had already received both doses of the vaccine,

, a yearlong data and reporting project by KHN and The Guardian, is investigating over 3,500 covid deaths of U.S. health care workers. The monthly number has been declining since December, but deaths often lag weeks or months behind infections.

Along with other health care workers, nursing home staffers and residents were first in line to get vaccines in December because elderly people in congregate settings are among the most vulnerable to infection: More than 125,000 residents have died of covid, CMS data shows, while over 550,000 nursing home staff members have tested positive and more than 1,600 have died.

Yet the vaccination rate among staffers is far lower than that of residents. When the first clinics ran from mid-December to mid-January, a median of 78% of nursing home residents took a dose, while the median for staff was only 38%, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Now several nursing home associations say the rate of staff vaccination has been climbing, based on informal surveys.

While vaccines are "contributing to the observed declines in COVID-19 cases in nursing homes, other factors, like effective infection prevention and control programs/practices," are also at play, CDC spokesperson Jade Fulce said.

Vaccine uptake by nursing home residents has been "very promising," said Dr. Morgan Katz, a specialist in infectious diseases at Johns Hopkins University who is advising covid responses in nursing homes. "I do think this is a huge contributing factor” to the drop in staff cases.

"When the immune system is activated more quickly" due to vaccination, "the virus is not able to multiply in your body and your respiratory tract," Katz said. So, having even one or two vaccinated people in a building can slow transmission.

Another factor, Katz said, is that "many nursing homes have already experienced large outbreaks — so there are probably a significant proportion of residents and staff who are already immune." Also, covid rates have fallen nationally after a spike from holiday travel and gatherings in November and December, so staff members have less exposure in their communities.

But "even though we’re seeing a really wonderful turn in the number of cases," she said, "we need to remember that as long as the staff is 50 or 30% vaccinated, they remain vulnerable, and they’re also putting incredibly vulnerable long-term care residents at risk."

Vaccination efforts are racing against time as new covid variants circulate and some states , making it easier for the virus to spread.

During the second week in February, 2,850 nursing homes still reported at least one new covid-positive test result for a staff member, CMS data shows.

When this happens, residents suffer, said Lori Smetanka, executive director of the National Consumer Voice for Quality Long-Term Care. She said she's hearing of cases in which one positive covid test result sends a facility into lockdown, preventing families from visiting their loved ones.

‘They're Afraid’

The New Jersey Veterans Memorial Home at Menlo Park endured a major outbreak last year in which over 100 workers contracted covid and over 60 residents and a certified nurse assistant, , died. Shirley Lewis, a union president representing CNAs and other workers, said it was traumatizing. Still, only about half of workers there have taken the vaccine, Lewis said, and one is out sick with covid.

"A lot of my members are not too excited about taking this vaccine because they’re afraid," Lewis said.

Some workers want to wait a little longer to see how safe the vaccine is, she said. Others tell her they don't trust the vaccines because they were developed so quickly, she said.

Other staffers "feel like it’s an experimental drug," Lewis said, "because as you know, Blacks, Latinos, other groups have been used for experiments" like the Tuskegee syphilis study, she said. She said her members are mostly Black or Hispanic.

Certified nursing assistants, who make up the bulk of long-term care workers, have historically been to get flu vaccines than other health care workers, noted Jasmine Travers, an assistant professor of nursing at New York University who studies vaccine hesitancy. Nursing homes typically don't have nurse educators, who address worker concerns about vaccines in hospitals, she said, and CNAs also face structural barriers such as limited internet access. Nursing homes tend to be hierarchies commonly led by white staffers, while about 50% of CNAs, at the bottom of the power structure, are Black or Hispanic, and carry mistrust and different attitudes toward vaccination, she added.

With the covid vaccine, some are afraid they'll have to take sick time to miss work and don't want to burden their co-workers, who are already short-staffed, Travers said.

Vaccine hesitancy is higher among 30- to 49-year-olds, rural residents, and Black and Hispanic adults, according to . Hispanic adults are to say they will “definitely” get the covid vaccine, as are . Black adults have been by the pandemic and left behind in the vaccination rollout because of barriers stemming from structural racism.

Deliberate Misinformation

Low vaccine uptake among long-term care workers has been a concern nationally — so much so that LeadingAge, a national group representing not-for-profit long-term care facilities, held a about vaccine safety this month with the Black Coalition Against COVID-19.

The event, which drew over 45,000 viewers, was geared toward Black long-term care workers.

Dr. Reed Tuckson, co-founder of the Black Coalition Against COVID-19, said viewers raised concerns about fertility, pregnancy and contraindications. He said the event also had "a lot of provocateurs" who insisted, "It’s all a myth. It’s all a lie."

His group plans to hold more public informational sessions aimed at Black audiences.

"There is no question that the three vaccines that we now have available to us are extraordinarily safe and tremendously effective," said Tuckson, a former public health commissioner in Washington, D.C.

The nursing home industry has of having 75% of staff members vaccinated nationwide by the end of June.

A Vaccine Mandate?

Most nursing homes have not mandated vaccinations, industry officials say, for fear of losing staff members. Because the vaccines were authorized on an emergency basis, liability is also a concern.

Juniper Communities, which runs 22 long-term care facilities in four states and employs almost 1,300 people, had 30 workers leave the job after it mandated vaccines, according to Dr. Lynne Katzmann, president and CEO.

"At the end of the day, if you can make a choice to promote well-being and prevent illness, that's the choice we want to make," she said.

Greenbrier Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Arkansas made the vaccine mandatory, but because of medical exemptions it hasn't led to 100% vaccination.

However, Greenbrier has seen a significant drop in covid infections since vaccinations began. In late November and early December, over 60% of staff members tested positive, according to Regina Jones, Greenbrier’s director of nursing. After the staff started receiving the vaccine in late December, four workers who had already received a dose tested positive but were asymptomatic.

Hesitancy Doesn't Mean Refusal

Tuckson said he's seeing a "dramatic decrease" in vaccine hesitancy based on surveys of Black audiences. He has heard "a hunger for scientifically valid information delivered to them by trusted sources," he said. "It's not as if their opinions are locked in stone."

Staff participation rates are rising with each round of vaccines, said Martino, the nursing home industry spokesperson.

At the Los Angeles Jewish Home, Chief Medical Officer Dr. Noah Marco said his staff has done "everything we could to counterbalance the nonsense out there on social media that has contributed to vaccine hesitancy," including producing videos and a weekly newsletter.

"The vaccine may have some unknown side effects," he recalled telling workers, "but we know the virus kills."

About 80% of his staff of 1,600 — which includes workers in nursing homes and other settings — are vaccinated, he said, along with 99% of residents. No nursing home residents have contracted covid since Jan. 13, he said.

In southwestern Ohio, Kenn Daily runs two Ayden Healthcare nursing homes. About half his staff and 85% of residents got vaccinated by mid-February, he said, and they haven't had a case of covid since. Still, he said, vaccine resistance persists among younger staffers who read misinformation online.

"Facebook is the bane of my existence," Daily said. Workers tell him they worry that "they’re going to microchip me," or that the vaccine will change their DNA.

Now that time has passed since the initial rollout, Daily said, "I’m hoping to put a little pressure on my staff to step up and get vaccinated." His message: "It’s working, guys. It’s working very well."

KHN data editor Elizabeth Lucas contributed to this report.

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“She wanted to make sure all those things were taken care of before she retired,” her son David said.

David and his sister begged her not to go back to work during the coronavirus pandemic — explaining their concerns about her age and diabetes — but she didn’t listen.

“She was like the Little Engine That Could. She just powered through everything,” David said.

But her invincibility couldn’t withstand COVID-19, and on 29 July she died after contracting the deadly virus.

Sonia’s death is far from unusual. Despite from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention that adults 65 and older are at a higher risk from COVID-19, have found that 338 front-line workers in that age group continued to work and likely died of complications from the virus after exposure on the job. Some were in their 80s — oftentimes physicians or registered nurses who cherished decades-long relationships with their patients and didn’t see retirement as an option.

The aging workers had a variety of motivations for risking their lives during the pandemic. Some felt pressured by employers to compensate for staffing shortages as the virus swept through departments. Others felt a higher sense of duty to their profession. Now their families are left to grapple with the same question: Would their loved one still be alive if he or she had stayed home?

‘All of This Could Have Been Prevented’

Aleyamma John was what her son, Ginu, described as a “prayerful woman.” Her solace came from working and caring for others. Her 38-year nursing career started in Mumbai, India. She immigrated with her husband to Dubai in the United Arab Emirates, where she worked for several years and had her two children. In 2002, the family moved to New York, and she took a job at NYC Health + Hospitals in Queens.

In early March, as cases surged across New York, Ginu asked his 65-year-old mother to retire. Her lungs were already weakened by an inflammatory disease, sarcoidosis.

“We told her very clearly, ‘Mom, this isn’t something that we should take lightly, and you definitely need to stay home.'”

“I don’t feel like the hospital will allow me to do that,” she responded.

Ginu described the camaraderie his mother shared with her co-workers, a bond that grew deeper during the pandemic. Many of her fellow nurses got sick themselves, and Aleyamma felt she had to step up.

Some of her co-workers “were quarantined [and did] not come into work,” he said. “Her department took a pretty heavy hit.”

By the third week of March, she started showing symptoms of COVID-19. A few days in, she suggested it might be best for her to go to the hospital.

“I think she knew it was not going to go well,” Ginu said. “But she found it in her heart to give us strength, which I thought was just insanely brave.”

Aleyamma ended up on a ventilator, something she assured Ginu wouldn’t be necessary. Her family was observing a virtual Palm Sunday service on 5 April when they got the call that she had died.

“We prayed that she would be able to come back, but that didn’t happen,” Ginu said.

Aleyamma and her husband, Johnny, who retired a few years ago, had been waiting to begin their next adventure.

“If organizations cared about their staff, especially staff who were vulnerable, if they provided for them and protected them, all of this could have been prevented,” Ginu said.

Commitment to Their Oath

In non-pandemic times, Sheena Miles considered herself semi-retired. She worked every other weekend at Scott Regional Hospital in Morton, Mississippi, mainly because she loved nursing and her patients. When Scott County emerged as a hot spot for the virus, Sheena worked four weekends in a row.

Her son, Tom, a member of Mississippi’s House of Representatives, called her one night to remind her she did not need to go to work.

“You don’t understand,” Sheena told her son. “I have an oath to do this. I don’t have a choice.”

Over Easter weekend, she began exhibiting COVID-like symptoms. By Thursday, her husband drove her to the University of Mississippi Medical Center in Jackson.

“She walked in and she never came out,” Tom said.

Tom said his mom “laid her life down” for the residents of Morton.

“She knew the chances that she was taking,” he said. “She just felt it was her duty to serve and to be there for people.”

Serving the community also was at the heart of Dr. Robert “Ray” Hull’s family medicine clinic in Rogers, Arkansas. He opened the clinic in 1972 and, according to his son Keith, had no intentions of leaving until his last breath.

“He was one of the first family physicians in northwest Arkansas,” Keith said. “Several people asked him if he was going to retire. His answer was always no.”

At the ripe age of 78, Dr. Hull continued to make house calls, black bag in hand. His wife worked alongside him in the office. Keith said the whole staff took proper precautions to keep the virus at bay, so when his father tested positive for COVID-19, it came as a shock.

Keith wasn’t able to visit his father at the hospital before he died on June 7. He said the funeral was even harder. Due to COVID restrictions on crowd sizes, he had to ask patients from Arkansas, Oklahoma and Missouri to stay home.

“There’s not a coliseum, arena or stadium that would have held his funeral,” Keith said. “Everybody knew my dad.”

‘She Was Afraid She Was Going to Get Sick’

Nancy MacDonald, at 74, got bored at home. That’s why her daughter, Bethany, said retirement never stuck for her. So in 2017, Nancy took a job as a receptionist at Orchard View Manor, a nursing home in East Providence, Rhode Island.

Although technically she worked the night shift, her co-workers could rely on her to pick up extra shifts without question.

“If somebody called her and said, ‘Oh, I’m not feeling well. I can’t come in,’ she was right there. That was just the way she was,” Bethany said.

Nursing homes across the country have of COVID-19, and Orchard View was no exception. By mid-April, the facility had 20 deaths. Nancy’s position was high-contact; residents and staff were in and out of the reception area all day.

At the onset of the pandemic, Orchard View had a limited supply of PPE. Bethany said they prioritized giving it to workers “on the floor,” primarily those handling patient care. Her mother’s position was on the back burner.

“When they gave her a[n N95] mask, they also gave her a brown paper bag,” she said. “When she left work, they told her to put the mask in the bag.”

Nancy’s managers reiterated that she was an essential employee, so she continued showing up. In personal conversations with her daughter, however, she was fearful about what might happen. At her age, she was considered high-risk. Nancy saw the isolation that Orchard View residents experienced when they contracted the coronavirus. She didn’t want that to be her.

“She was afraid she was going to get sick,” Bethany said. “She was afraid to die alone.”

Following her death on April 25, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration opened an investigation into the facility. So far, Orchard View has been fined more than

A spokesperson for Orchard View told KHN the facility had “extensive infection control.” The facility declined to comment further.

Bethany MacDonald believes health care systems often exclude receptionists, janitors and technical workers from conversations on protecting the front line.

“It doesn’t matter what the job is, they are on the front line. You don’t have to be a doctor to be on the front line,” she said.

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Se trata del recuento más completo de las muertes de trabajadores de la salud del país.

KHN y The Guardian están rastreando a los trabajadores de la salud que murieron por COVID-19 y escribiendo sobre sus vidas y lo que vivieron en sus últimos días.

El virus ha cobrado un precio desproporcionado en las comunidades de color y entre los inmigrantes, y los trabajadores de salud no se han librado de esa tendencia.

Los reporteros de Guardian y KHN han publicado perfiles de 177 de las 1.080 víctimas que hemos identificado en base a obituarios, informes de noticias, publicaciones en redes sociales y otras fuentes.

De esos 177, el 62,1% se identificó como de raza negra, latino, asiático/de las islas del Pacífico o nativo americano, y el 30,5% nació fuera de los Estados Unidos. Ambas cifras respaldan los hallazgos de que las personas de color y los inmigrantes (independientemente de la raza) están muriendo a tasas más altas que sus contrapartes, blancos no hispanos y nacidos en los Estados Unidos.

Estas cifras coinciden con otras investigaciones. Según un estudio de la Escuela de Medicina de Harvard publicado en en julio, los trabajadores de salud de color tenían más probabilidades de atender a pacientes con COVID-19 presunto o confirmado y casi el doble de probabilidades que sus homólogos blancos no hispanos de dar positivo para el coronavirus. .

El sistema de salud de los Estados Unidos también depende en gran medida de trabajadores de salud inmigrantes, que representan casi 1 de cada 5 trabajadores de salud. Estos profesionales inmigrantes tienden a trabajar en las comunidades más vulnerables: encontró que las áreas de alta pobreza tienden a tener más médicos capacitados en el extranjero que las regiones más ricas.

Entre las víctimas estaban Corrina y Cheryl Thinn, hermanas que trabajaban en una clínica en la Nación Navajo en el norte de Arizona. Compartían una oficina, vivían en la misma casa, criaban juntas a sus hijos y murieron con pocas semanas de diferencia.

El doctor James “Charlie” Mahoney, neumólogo de Brooklyn, fue uno de los pocos en su Universidad en la década de 1970. Fue recordado como una “leyenda” en su hospital.

El doctor Reza Chowdhury, internista en el Bronx, era una figura querida en la comunidad de Bangladesh de la ciudad. No cobraba copagos cuando sus pacientes tenían poco efectivo y les daba el número de teléfono de su casa para que pudieran llamarlo si tenían preguntas.

Y Milagros Abellera, recordada por sus colegas como una “mama gallina”, fue una de las decenas de enfermeras de Filipinas que sucumbieron al virus en los Estados Unidos.

Además de las disparidades basadas en la raza y el origen, nuestros investigadores encontraron que de los 177 trabajadores sobre los que se realize un perfil hasta ahora para la base de datos de Lost on the Frontline:

• Se informó que al menos 57 (32%) tenían equipo de protección personal (EPP) inadecuado.
• La media de edad era de 57 años y oscilaba entre los 20 y los 80 años, con 21 personas (12%) menores de 40 años.
• Aproximadamente el 38% -68- eran enfermeras, pero el total también incluye médicos, farmacéuticos, socorristas y técnicos hospitalarios, entre otros.

Puedes leer sus historias y otras de profesionales de salud . Y si sabes de un trabajador de salud que haya muerto por COVID, por favor con nosotros.

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They lived together, with their mother, Mary Thinn. They helped raise each other’s children.

And they died just weeks apart, at ages 40 and 44, after falling ill with COVID-19.

Close friend Lynette Goldtooth, a registered nurse and case manager, won’t go near the area of the hospital where they worked, knowing she’ll break down if she sees their empty seats.

“That’s where I used to go to see Corrina every morning,” Goldtooth said. “I used to sit in Cheryl’s chair. Corrina and I would just start talking, catch up on what we did during our time off, laugh and joke.”

Cheryl and Corrina are among hundreds of U.S. health care workers who died after helping patients battle the virus. The Guardian and KHN are investigating more than 1,000 of these workers’ deaths in the project.

The Navajo Nation was ravaged by COVID-19 this spring. In May, the highest per capita infection rate in the United States. As of Aug. 21, the sisters were among 489 members of the reservation who had died of the virus, according to the .

Experts attributed the spread to the prevalence of multigenerational housing and poor sanitation infrastructure — many homes lack running water. Like medical centers across the country, local hospitals across the Navajo Nation experienced shortages of personal protective gear.

In early March, Corrina, without personal protective equipment, saw a patient who was showing symptoms of COVID-19, according to her sister Chris. Corrina made sure the patient was comfortable and asked what else she could do to help. A couple of days later, that patient died, and a test for COVID-19 came back positive.

“Within days after that, she got sick really fast,” Chris said.

The sisters’ employer declined to comment for this story.

Corrina’s first concern was for Cheryl, who started showing symptoms of the virus around the same time that she did. Cheryl’s job as a utilization review technician required face-to-face interaction with patients to verify their insurance and discuss workers’ compensation. She had underlying health conditions, including rheumatoid arthritis.

“Corrina worked with people with RA when she was on Pima reservation, so she knows the effects of having it,” Mary, her mother, said. “I think that’s what worried her the most, because she thought it might make [Cheryl’s] immune system weaker.”

Chris remembers calling Cheryl on her 40th birthday, March 19. Cheryl joked about how, as the baby of the four siblings, she was “still young and pretty.” But she also complained that it was difficult for her to breathe. She was admitted to the Tuba City hospital the next day.

Corrina’s condition worsened as well, and she checked herself into the emergency room at Tuba City on March 21. Hospital staff tried assisted-breathing treatments on her, to no avail.

Cheryl was airlifted to Flagstaff Medical Center on March 24. She never knew that Corrina was briefly in the hospital with her.

Corrina was airlifted to Banner Thunderbird Medical Center in Glendale later that night.

Chris said that the last time she spoke with Corrina, she was still in the ER. “She just messaged us saying she was going to get flown out, that she loves us and that she was going to be back,” Chris said. “That was the last time we heard from her.”

Because of shortages, the sisters weren’t tested for COVID-19 until they were transferred out of Tuba City. They both tested positive and were then intubated at their respective hospitals. Cheryl died on April 11, and no family members were allowed to be with her.

“I couldn’t even hold my baby,” her mother said. “I couldn’t even hold her hand when she passed.”

The family had a small service before burying Cheryl next to their father, Navajo Police Sgt. Jimmie Thinn Sr., and Cheryl’s ex-husband, who died in January. Even after their marriage ended, the two remained close and co-parented Cheryl’s son, Kyle.

Chris said the whole experience felt “very lonely.”

Numbed by the pain of Cheryl’s death, the family shifted their focus to Corrina.

“You tell yourself that we just need to get her healthy enough to come home,” Chris said. “And then all of the sudden, she’s gone.”

Corrina died on April 29 — 18 days after her sister’s death and two weeks after her birthday, which she spent on a ventilator. Although she was unconscious, her nurse sang “Happy Birthday.”

Corrina’s oldest son, Gary Werito Jr., had tried for weeks to take leave from his Fort Bliss Army post in El Paso, Texas. His superiors declined his requests out of concerns he might contract the virus while on leave.

Separated from his mother by hundreds of miles, Werito tried to reach her through prayer.

“I would burn cedar,” he said. “I was trying to talk to my mom. I was telling her, ‘Mom, you’re going to get through this. You’re going to come home. You’re going to meet your granddaughter.'”

Werito and his wife were expecting their second child. The baby would have been Corrina’s first granddaughter.

Werito remembers his mother as a “model Navajo.”

“She left the reservation to get an education, and then she came home,” he said. “She could have worked anywhere else as a social worker, but she chose to help her own people.”

Before becoming a social worker, Corrina worked for the Tuba City Police District for more than 10 years. She ended her law enforcement career as a senior police officer.

Goldtooth, the sisters’ friend and colleague, said Corrina was particularly effective at the hospital because she spoke English and Navajo fluently. The Native language because it remained mostly unwritten at the time.

“A lot of people aren’t fluent in Navajo anymore,” she said. “When elderly people would come [to the hospital], they don’t speak a lot of English. She was there to talk with them. It would really surprise people.”

Cheryl was more soft-spoken than her sister. Mary remembers her as empathetic and insightful. Her siblings often sought her advice.

“That’s what we miss about her,” Mary said. “She might be the quiet one, but she always has important things to say to us.”

Both sisters left behind young sons. Corrina’s son Michael is 14, and Cheryl’s son just turned 12. The cousins are keeping each other company, reminding Mary of the way her daughters behaved.

Honoring her former service with the Tuba City Police District, law enforcement escorted Corrina’s body from Flagstaff to Tuba City. Her family was humbled by the outpouring.

“We had people lined up honoring her return,” Mary said. “They paid their respects, flying their flags. Some officers were standing along the road saluting her.”

Since June, the Navajo Department of Health has enforced strict curfews during the week and lockdowns over the weekend. Those measures have been effective, as they’ve seen cases decline over the past two months. The Navajo Nation began in mid-August, allowing most businesses to operate at 25% capacity.

In late July, Werito left the Army for good and came home to Tuba City. His daughter was born on Aug. 5 in the same hospital where his mother and aunt worked. Her middle name is Lois, the same as Corrina’s.

Werito said he sometimes forgets his mother is gone and expects her to come home from work.

“My grandmother told me it’s a little peace of mind that I’m home now,” he said. “It kind of fills that void that my mom and my aunt left.”

This story is part of “Lost on the Frontline,” an ongoing project from  and Kaiser Health News that aims to document the lives of health care workers in the U.S. who die from COVID-19, and to investigate why so many are victims of the disease. If you have a colleague or loved one we should include, please .

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The virus has taken a disproportionate toll on communities of color and immigrants — and health workers haven’t been spared.

Guardian and KHN reporters have published profiles of 177 of the 1,079 victims we have identified based on obituaries, news reports, social media posts and other sources. Of those 177, 62.1% were identified as Black, Latino, Asian/Pacific Islander or Native American, and 30.5% were born outside the United States. Both figures support findings that people of color and immigrants (regardless of race) are dying at higher rates than their white and U.S.-born counterparts.

These figures track with other research. According to a Harvard Medical School study in The Lancet Public Health last month, health care workers of color were more likely to care for patients with suspected or confirmed COVID-19 and nearly twice as likely as their white counterparts to test positive for the coronavirus.

The U.S. health system also relies heavily on immigrant health workers, who account for almost 1 in 5 health workers. Immigrant health workers tend to work in the most vulnerable communities: A 2018 found that high-poverty areas tend to have more foreign-trained doctors than do wealthier regions, for example.

Among those lost were Corrina and Cheryl Thinn, sisters who worked in a clinic in the Navajo Nation in northern Arizona. They shared an office, lived in the same home, helped raise each other’s children and died just weeks apart.

Dr. James “Charlie” Mahoney, a Brooklyn pulmonologist, was one of only a handful of at his medical school in the 1970s. He was remembered as a “legend” at his hospital.

Dr. Reza Chowdhury, an internist in the Bronx, was a beloved figure in the city’s Bangladeshi community. He didn’t charge copays when his patients were low on cash and gave out his home phone number so they could call with medical questions.

And Milagros Abellera, remembered by colleagues as a “mother hen,” was one of the dozens of nurses from the Philippines who succumbed to the virus in the United States.

In addition to disparities based on race and origin, our researchers found that of the 177 workers profiled so far from the Lost on the Frontline database:

• At least 57 (32%) were reported to have had inadequate personal protective equipment (PPE).
• The median age was 57 and ages ranged from 20 to 80, with 21 people (12%) under 40.
• Roughly 38% — 68 — were nurses, but the total also includes physicians, pharmacists, first responders and hospital technicians, among others

You can read their stories and those of other healthcare workers . And if you know of a health care worker who died of COVID-19, please with us.

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Lost on the Frontline es una asociación entre las dos redacciones que tiene como objetivo contar, verificar y honrar a cada trabajador de salud de los Estados Unidos que ha muerto durante la pandemia.

Es el recuento más completo de las muertes de trabajadores de salud del país.

A medida que aumentan los casos de coronavirus, y persiste la grave escasez de equipos de protección que salvan vidas, como máscaras N95, delantales y guantes, los trabajadores de salud del país se enfrentan de nuevo a condiciones potencialmente mortales, en especial en los estados del sur y el oeste.

A través de análisis y comparación de registros y fuentes, informes de colegas, redes sociales, obituarios en línea, sindicatos de trabajadores y medios locales, los reporteros de Lost on the Frontline han identificado a 922 trabajadores de salud que murieron por COVID-19 y sus complicaciones.

Un equipo de más de 50 periodistas de The Guardian, KHN y de escuelas de periodismo han pasado meses investigando muertes individuales para comprobar que fueran a causa de COVID-19 y de que los fallecidos efectivamente estuvieran trabajando en la primera línea de batalla, en contacto directo con pacientes con COVID o trabajando en lugares donde reciben tratamiento.

Los reporteros también han estado investigando las circunstancias de sus muertes, incluido su acceso a equipo de protección personal (EPP), y han estado contactando a familiares, compañeros de trabajo, representantes sindicales y empleadores para que comentaran sobre estas muertes.

Hasta el momento, se han publicado167 con nombres, datos, e historias de vida con colegas o seres queridos opinando y recordando sus vidas. Cada semana se publican los nombres de nuevas víctimas. Y Cada muerte se confirma de manera individual antes de publicarla.

El recuento incluye médicos, enfermeras y paramédicos, así como personal de apoyo crucial, como conserjes de hospitales, administradores y trabajadores de hogares de adultos mayores, que arriesgaron sus propias vidas durante la pandemia para cuidar a otros.

Los primeros datos indican que han muerto decenas de personas que no pudieron acceder a equipo de protección personal adecuado y al menos 35 sucumbieron después que funcionarios federales de seguridad laboral recibieran quejas sobre la seguridad en sus lugares de trabajo.

Los primeros recuentos también sugieren que la mayoría de las muertes se produjeron entre personas de color, muchas de ellas inmigrantes. Pero debido a que esta base de datos es un trabajo en curso, con nuevos casos confirmados y sumados semanalmente, los primeros hallazgos representan una fracción del total de informes y no son representativos de todas las muertes de trabajadores de salud.

De los 167 trabajadores agregados a la base de datos de Lost on the Frontline hasta ahora:

• La mayoría, 103 (62%), fueron identificadas como personas de color.
• Se informó que al menos 52 (31%) tenían un equipo de protección inadecuado.
• La edad promedio fue de 57 años, y oscilaba entre los 20 y los 80 años, con 21 personas (13%) menores de 40.
• Aproximadamente un tercio, al menos 53, nacieron fuera de los Estados Unidos y 25 eran de Filipinas.
• La mayoría de las muertes, 103, ocurrieron en abril, después del aumento inicial de casos en la costa este.
• Aproximadamente el 38% (64) fueron enfermeras, pero el total también incluía médicos, farmacéuticos, socorristas y técnicos hospitalarios, entre otros.
• Al menos 68 vivían en Nueva York y Nueva Jersey, dos estados muy afectados al comienzo de la pandemia, seguidos por Illinois y California.

Algunas de estas muertes se pudieron prevenir. La mala preparación, los errores del gobierno y un sistema de salud sobrecargado aumentaron ese riesgo. El acceso inadecuado a las pruebas, la escasez de equipos de protección en todo el país y la resistencia al distanciamiento social y al uso de máscaras han obligado a más internaciones en hospitales ya sobrecargados, y han elevado el número de muertos.

Los vacíos en los datos gubernamentales han aumentado la necesidad de un seguimiento independiente. El gobierno federal no ha registrado con precisión las muertes de trabajadores de salud. Hasta el domingo 9 de agosto, los Centros para el Control y Prevención de Enfermedades (CDC) informaron 587 muertes entre este grupo, pero la agencia no enumera nombres específicos y ha admitido que se trata de un recuento insuficiente.

Las medidas recientes de la Casa Blanca subrayan la necesidad de datos públicos y responsabilidad. En julio, la administración Trump ordenó a los centros de salud que enviaran datos sobre hospitalizaciones y muertes por COVID-19 directamente al Departamento de Salud y Servicios Humanos, sin pasar por los CDC.

En los días siguientes, la información vital sobre la pandemia desapareció del ojo público. (Los datos se restauraron más tarde después de una protesta pública, pero la agencia indicó que es posible que ya no actualice las cifras debido a un cambio en los requisitos de informes federales).

Historias exclusivas de los reporteros de Lost on the Frontline han revelado que muchos trabajadores de salud están usando máscaras quirúrgicas que son mucho menos efectivas que las máscaras N95, lo que los expone a mayor peligro. Los correos electrónicos obtenidos a través de una solicitud de registros públicos mostraron que los funcionarios federales y estatales estaban al tanto a fines de febrero de la grave escasez de equipos de protección.

Investigaciones posteriores encontraron que los trabajadores de salud que contrajeron el coronavirus y sus familias ahora luchan por acceder a las pensiones y otros beneficios del sistema de compensación para trabajadores. El informe también ha examinado las muertes de 19 trabajadores de salud menores de 30 años que murieron por COVID-19.

Seguimos recopilando los nombres de los trabajadores de salud que han fallecido y analizando por qué tantos se han enfermado. Agradecemos sugerencias y comentarios en frontline@theguardian.com y covidtips@kff.org.

La corresponsal senior de KHN Christina Jewett y Melissa Bailey colaboraron con este informe.

Â鶹ŮÓÅ Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at Â鶹ŮÓÅ—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about .

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It is the most comprehensive accounting of U.S. health care workers’ deaths in the country.

As coronavirus cases surge — and dire shortages of lifesaving protective gear like N95 masks, gowns and gloves persist — the nation’s health care workers are again facing life-threatening conditions in Southern and Western states.

Through crowdsourcing and reports from colleagues, social media, online obituaries, workers unions and local media, Lost on the Frontline reporters have identified 922 health care workers who reportedly died of COVID-19 and its complications.

A team of more than 50 journalists from the Guardian, KHN and journalism schools have spent months investigating individual deaths to make certain that they died of COVID-19, and that they were indeed working on the front lines in contact with COVID patients or working in places where they were being treated. The reporters have also been investigating the circumstances of their deaths, including their access to personal protective equipment (PPE), and tracking down family members, co-workers, union representatives and employers to comment about their deaths.

Thus far, we have independently confirmed 167 deaths and published their names, data and stories about their lives and how they will be remembered. We are continuing to confirm additional victims and are publishing new names weekly.

The tally includes doctors, nurses and paramedics, as well as crucial support staff such as hospital custodians, administrators and nursing home workers, who put their own lives at risk during the pandemic to care for others.

The early data indicates that dozens have died who were unable to access adequate PPE and at least 35 succumbed after federal work-safety officials received safety complaints about their workplaces. Early tallies also suggest that the majority of the deaths were among people of color, and many were immigrants. But because this database is a work in progress — with new confirmed cases added weekly — the early findings represent a fraction of total reports and are not representative of all health care worker deaths.

Of the 167 workers added to the Lost on the Frontline database so far:

• A majority — 103 (62%) — were identified as people of color.
• At least 52 (31%) were reported to have had inadequate PPE.
• The median age was 57 and ages ranged from 20 to 80, with 21 people (13%) under 40.
• About one-third — at least 53 — were born outside the United States, and 25 were from the Philippines.
• The majority of the deaths, 103, were in April, after the initial surge on the East Coast.
• Roughly 38% — 64 — were nurses, but the total also included physicians, pharmacists, first responders and hospital technicians, among others.
• At least 68 lived in New York and New Jersey, two states hit hard at the outset of the pandemic, with Illinois and California next.

Some of these deaths were preventable. Poor preparation, government missteps and an overburdened health care system increased that risk. Inadequate access to testing, a nationwide shortage of protective gear and resistance to social distancing and mask-wearing have forced more patients into overburdened hospitals and driven up the death toll.

Gaps in government data have increased the need for independent tracking. The federal government has failed to accurately count health care worker fatalities. As of Sunday, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported 587 deaths among health workers — but the agency does not list specific names and has conceded this is an undercount.

Recent moves by the White House underscore the need for public data and accountability. In July, the Trump administration ordered health facilities to send data on hospitalizations and deaths from COVID-19 directly to the Department of Health and Human Services, bypassing the CDC. In the succeeding days, vital information on the pandemic disappeared from the public eye. (The data was later restored following a public outcry, but the agency indicated it may no longer update the figures because of a change in federal reporting requirements.)

Lost on the Frontline reporters have compiled hundreds of potential cases through crowdsourcing and reports from colleagues, social media, online obituaries, workers unions and local media. They are independently confirming each death before publishing names, data and obituaries.

Exclusive stories by the reporters have revealed that many health care workers are using surgical masks that are far less effective than N95 masks and have put them in jeopardy. Emails obtained via a public records request showed that federal and state officials were aware in late February of dire shortages of PPE.

Further investigations found that health workers who contracted the coronavirus and their families now struggle to access death and other benefits in the workers’ compensation system. Our reporting has also examined the deaths of 19 health care workers under age 30 who died from COVID-19.

We are continuing to gather the names of health care workers who’ve died and dig into why so many are falling ill. We welcome tips and feedback at frontline@theguardian.com and covidtips@kff.org.

KHN senior correspondent Christina Jewett and Melissa Bailey contributed to this report.

Â鶹ŮÓÅ Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at Â鶹ŮÓÅ—an independent source of health policy research, polling, and journalism. Learn more about .

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).