“The first thing my daughter, Leah, said upon entering the hospital room was ‘pacifier,’ referring to the CPAP keeping my beautiful grandmother’s lungs expanding in that crisp, white hospital bed. Her red hair was squished in the back, eyes revealing fatigue, but thankfully not discomfort. She drove a white Thunderbird when I was a kid.”
“He is a doctor. That’s what you ‘sign up for.’ No. That is not what he signed up for. I would absolutely feel more inclined for him to help if I knew without a shadow of a doubt he had the life saving P.P.E. he needs to stay healthy. He needs it and his family at home needs it. WE NEED IT.”
“He just needed to learn how to de-stress properly after work. He just needed to sleep better. He just needed to make more of an effort. Fine. Whatever. ‘Honey, I need you to take me to the ER.’ I looked at my husband, who absolutely hates stepping foot inside of a hospital. Something was wrong.”
“You’ve had no time to transition. You are running businesses from your coffee tables. To all my friends who have expressed they are struggling with homeschool – this is not homeschool. I homeschooled my kids for several years, and what you all are doing is a thousand times harder.”
“We were too young, too inexperienced, too still in college, too poor… I was 18 and he was 20. Nobody wanted us to get married. His family got quiet, tiptoed, and avoided.”
“You might think you’re being safe, but I thought that too. Someone I came in contact with wasn’t. That’s why I’m sick. Someone didn’t wash their hands or cover their mouth. They didn’t avoid public places. They carried on like normal.”
“He reached in to hand me what I assumed was my license back. It wasn’t until my hand had closed around it that its unexpected bulkiness drew my eyes to it. I burst into tears. This complete stranger, who owed me nothing and is more on the front lines than I am, shared his precious masks with me, without my even asking.”
“My fellow rockstar nurses had to code a patient while wearing full PPE. After seeing a whole group of people gathering in a culdesac in my neighborhood yesterday, I felt I needed to share this.”
“I got a phone call from my mom. ‘Nana is in the hospital.’ I needed to spend her last few days by her side, just like she spent my whole life by mine. She didn’t know how little time she had left, and we wanted to keep it that way. I boarded a plane right away to go home.”
“I’m more uncomfortable in the grocery store, without my mask and gloves or hand sanitizer, than I am at the hospital. To the people dropping off masks and food for those of us on the front lines, we appreciate it more than you know.”
