-- By Tom Phillips
You know something's happening
New York City now is the "epicenter" of the viral spring, with 23,000 cases of Covid-19, and at least 365 deaths. This is in a city of eight million, and we still don't know anyone who knows they have it. But we met online with our sidelined hospice singing group last night and heard the news: two people dead in the synagogue of one of our members. A nurse died at a hospital where another member works. Co-workers are angry -- blaming the lack of personal protective equipment. Some nurses are already exhausted, feeling desperate.
Outside, people walk in the empty streets to avoid passing on the sidewalk. A cylindrical hut has sprung up on 113th Street, outside the entrance to St. Luke's hospital. It's a triage center, ready to separate patients into four categories: (1) those needing immediate lifesaving interventions; (2) those who need significant intervention that can be delayed; (3) those needing little or no treatment: (4) those who are so severely ill that survival is unlikely.
The system was developed in the wars of the last century, when many of the wounded had to be given up for dead.
As of yesterday St. Luke's had 81 coronavirus cases. The hospital has about 500 beds in all, many of them occupied with broken bones, terminal cancer, and other exigencies. The Cathedral of St. John the Divine across the street has offered its huge space as an overflow ward. I hope I don't wind up there, but at least it's a place amenable to prayer.
For some, social distancing is still optional. Knots of young people stroll casually together, or lounge on the steps of Columbia's Low Library (see below). Grocery stockers work side by side at West Side Market. Friends and neighbors chatting on the sidewalk routinely move within the prescribed six-foot radius. I back up when that happens.
Meanwhile magnolias and peacocks peak in the preternaturally clear air,.
On Facebook, a host of friends wrote in to support a dancer feeling paralyzed with fear of catching the disease. Take it easy, we all said, we love you, you're stronger than the virus.
Cracks in the system are starting to show. Some part-time hospital workers have neither adequate protective gear or any health insurance. What happens when they get sick?
Mayor Bill now predicts that half of New Yorkers will become infected. But class president Donny's patience has run out; he wants the economy back to normal in two weeks. The stock market perks up at this prospect.
As does the virus.
-- Copyright 2020 by Tom Phillips
You know something's happening
But you don't know what it is --
Do you, Mr. Jones?New York City now is the "epicenter" of the viral spring, with 23,000 cases of Covid-19, and at least 365 deaths. This is in a city of eight million, and we still don't know anyone who knows they have it. But we met online with our sidelined hospice singing group last night and heard the news: two people dead in the synagogue of one of our members. A nurse died at a hospital where another member works. Co-workers are angry -- blaming the lack of personal protective equipment. Some nurses are already exhausted, feeling desperate.
Outside, people walk in the empty streets to avoid passing on the sidewalk. A cylindrical hut has sprung up on 113th Street, outside the entrance to St. Luke's hospital. It's a triage center, ready to separate patients into four categories: (1) those needing immediate lifesaving interventions; (2) those who need significant intervention that can be delayed; (3) those needing little or no treatment: (4) those who are so severely ill that survival is unlikely.
The system was developed in the wars of the last century, when many of the wounded had to be given up for dead.
As of yesterday St. Luke's had 81 coronavirus cases. The hospital has about 500 beds in all, many of them occupied with broken bones, terminal cancer, and other exigencies. The Cathedral of St. John the Divine across the street has offered its huge space as an overflow ward. I hope I don't wind up there, but at least it's a place amenable to prayer.
For some, social distancing is still optional. Knots of young people stroll casually together, or lounge on the steps of Columbia's Low Library (see below). Grocery stockers work side by side at West Side Market. Friends and neighbors chatting on the sidewalk routinely move within the prescribed six-foot radius. I back up when that happens.
Meanwhile magnolias and peacocks peak in the preternaturally clear air,.
On Facebook, a host of friends wrote in to support a dancer feeling paralyzed with fear of catching the disease. Take it easy, we all said, we love you, you're stronger than the virus.
Cracks in the system are starting to show. Some part-time hospital workers have neither adequate protective gear or any health insurance. What happens when they get sick?
Mayor Bill now predicts that half of New Yorkers will become infected. But class president Donny's patience has run out; he wants the economy back to normal in two weeks. The stock market perks up at this prospect.
As does the virus.
-- Copyright 2020 by Tom Phillips
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| Social Distance at Columbia |
oh dear that last line
ReplyDeleteterrific... sadly so...
ReplyDelete