The Coronavirus Crisis at My Husband’s Nursing Home
Though I fear for my husband, I haven’t been allowed to see him. When I drive to the home to drop off and pick up his laundry, I pass a refrigerator truck beneath my husband’s windows, covered in a white plastic tent. I know this truck holds the bodies of loved ones who have died. One day, within 20 minutes of idling outside the front door, I saw four ambulances come to pick up patients.
[Source: New York Times]