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We All Have Long COVID Now
Dispatches from Ward 6B
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There are two wide white hallways connected by three shorter wide white hallways to form two squares. There is a nurse’s station in the center of one square that creates a panopticon for the rooms that surround it. My room is 4B.
There are windows with blinds behind glass. Stand far enough away from them and you can see the city outside, enormous and forever. The closer you get, the more the blinds obscure your vision until if you want to see the world you must press your nose to the glass, eyes exactly between two slats. When I get the angle just right, I can see the elevated subway tracks in the distance.
There is a bed with sheets and three blankets because I am always cold and maroon pajamas that don’t quite fit: too short. There are fluorescent lights and people checking on me every fifteen minutes, 24 hours a day, for the first three days. There are no shoelaces and no dental floss. I unravel my bedsheets at night, quietly, because dental hygiene is important. Cotton thread is far from ideal, but it works if you’re careful.
You can shave your face under supervision, but there are no hairbrushes. The VA facility was designed for men. I am the only woman here. There is a bottle of combination body wash…
