She Went Home: End of Life in the Era of COVID-19
The mother had delivered a healthy newborn. After a careful instrument count and exchanging pleasantries, I headed for the shower. It was getting late, and I had unfinished business.
On to the ICU, but not for my usual reasons. I heard sounds of beeping intensify just before I entered the room, and I felt an ache inside. My eyes focused on the vital signs on the screen. I sat down. “Good evening,” I said.
A smile spread across her face. Struggling, she said, “Good evening, I love you.” I was relieved, at least for the moment. Until then, I did not know if I would ever talk to her again.
I remember the way she looked at me: as through a haze. I remember regretting not having spent more time with her. I remember reassuring her that it was all going to be okay.
When I asked my mother how her day had been, she said “Okay.” But the look on her face suggested otherwise.
I knew my time was running short. I wasn’t even supposed to be there as Coronavirus had swept the globe. I was only there through subterfuge, under the guise of a physician. In truth, I » Continue Reading.
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