From the Coronavirus Frontlines

If we have a bit of time and they have a bit of breath, I tell them to call their loved ones. Let their family hear their voices a bit.

While I have many hats outside of nursing, every day now I have to assume the role of leader, mentor, frontline nurse, nursing assistant, and transporter.

We were given one N95 mask, one face shield, and a pair of goggles. The N95 was to be used all day, the face shield and goggles to be sanitized and reused daily.

We choose you and your loved ones over our own. We choose to keep fighting this nasty, scary virus even though it means we can’t be with any of our loved ones for a long time.

Breathe, I tell myself. Breathe. I want to call my sister, but I can’t dial. Thoughts roll through my head such as: Is this my new reality?

I am not an emotional person by nature. But in the last few weeks I have found myself minutes or seconds away from tears at any given moment.

The hardest part of all of this is seeing the patients all alone, sick and alone. Talking to the worried family and trying to reassure them when I don’t feel reassured myself.

Since many CSE members are over 60, they couldn’t volunteer. Many younger members, however, were out of work and able to step in and contribute more hours than usual.

The coronavirus pandemic has rebooted the classic medieval Jew-hatred seen during the Black Plague. Today, in the age of a sovereign Jewish state, it has been redirected to demonize Israel.

Hoping to ease mourners’ pain and to properly recognize those who were gone, Eli set about to build a website that, true to its name, would allow friends and family members to pay their final respects.