I had a unique experience during the pandemic. Around four months into the major outbreak in the United States, I was hospitalized. Not from the virus, but rather from severe internal bleeding due to a tumor on my left kidney. There is a high likelihood the tumor has been with me for most of my life. Upon being rushed to a hospital in Dallas, Texas, I saw firsthand the horrors the pandemic had inflicted upon hospitals. Logistics had completely broken down, even though my condition was life-threatening and I was quickly running out of time, I was put in a temporary triage bed. There simply weren’t enough hospital beds and I was not sent to an actual hospital room until around an hour and a half following my arrival. I would later learn that I was actually in the hospital during the infamous time that the state government attempted to halt quarantine, leading to a spike in cases. Had the situation in the hospital been worse, I would have likely died from an easily treatable condition simply due to the fact that there would not have been room for me. The pandemic has made me a stronger person, yet my experiences have also led to long-lasting mental scars.
Prof L
Luke, this is powerful writing ! (I will make one small criticism: the word “unique” is wrong for this particular story.)
It seems to me that experiences like yours, vividly described, should have a strong moral force: we have responsibilities to each other and our individual choices have consequences that we cannot always know in advance. And yet I’m pessimistic, because the Omicron variant has led to crammed hospitals once more. Were stories like yours not heard? not believed? crowded out by counter-narratives?