Is there anything, at this point, that hasn’t already been said about COVID-19?

Perhaps there are two things that haven’t been explored enough:

1. What must it be like to die (or even to survive, potentially with noticeably reduced lung capacity for the rest of your life) gasping for breath with only strangers around you in a crowded hospital corridor?  How long would my wise cracks about this being a hell of a way to solve the aging Baby-Boomer problem sustain me?  How much would I ache to tell my children and grandchildren one more time that they must never condemn their precious selves, no matter what their failings?  Or would I be capable of any thought at all, throughout the nebulous sea of those seemingly endless last days and hours, beyond the feverish struggle to suck in the next breath?
2. For those of us fortunate enough not to have symptoms, but sober enough not to hide in denial, life as we’ve known it is gone.  Almost at the snap of a finger.  Even the USA’s First Amendment right of the people to assemble is gone.  As one of my daughters pointed out, under far unhappier circumstances it’s not unlike the sudden and absolute readjustment required when all the king’s horses and all the king’s men fail to prepare anyone adequately for the birth of their first child.

I love you all and wish you all the best.  As you pace about the confines of your homes may the gentle whisper of someone singing somewhere, or the soft tinkle of a piano, waft through your window to remind you that you’re not alone.