We are all here. The congested, the man with a broken back The woman who had a surgical mask on and is coughing. The relatives waiting to hear from their loved ones The babies who are fever ridden. The lovely couple in their eighties who are so buoyant and conversational. The man sitting next to me who just came back from having a CT Scan. The disheveled and homeless. Not one of us are making eye contact, we are all on our phones. Except for the couple in their eighties. Some have smiles others are clearly lost. We are all hoping to live another day. It’s a waiting game in this hospital. Who gets called by the doctor but then comes back to the waiting room and waits some more. It’s been 3.5 hours that I’ve been waiting. They are testing my blood for slowly occurring damage to my heart. I wonder if they will detect how broken it is. Broken from all the ugliness on TV That man we call our leader, leading us into the ground.
Joann Cohen December 2019