My Parents Left Me in the ICU and Flew to Cancun Until I Saw the Same Name on the Visitor Log Every Night

image: someone choosing a hospital corridor over wherever else they could be, choosing the smell of disinfectant and the fluorescent lights and the hard chair outside a room they were not sure they were permitted to enter. The image was so foreign to anything in my recent experience of being cared for that it felt almost fictional.

“His name?” I asked.continue reading …