COVID stole the heart of my family. It also divided it
LOS ANGELES — The nurse helped tie our isolation gowns before we stepped into room 416.
My sister Crystal Vargas and I were in the COVID-19 intensive care unit at Huntington Hospital. Staff watched a handful of patients on computer monitors, including our grandmother María Díaz.
Inside the room came the steady whoosh of air getting pushed into her lungs by an oxygen mask that obscured her face. The numbers on her hospital monitor signaled that her blood pressure had plunged to 79/46 mmHG.
We placed our purple, gloved hands over hers — the hands that fed us, bathed us and brushed our hair. They were cold despite the pile of blankets that enveloped her thin frame. Her blue eyes were closed to the world.
Our grandma had tested positive for COVID-19 and been admitted to the Pasadena hospital the night before, Dec. 13. Even with the help of the BiPap machine, a type of ventilator, her oxygen stats were trending down. She had COVID pneumonia and was "sick all over her body," the nurse said.
We were there to say goodbye.
For many, COVID-19 is what forced them to stay home and wear a mask to keep others safe — the virus existing largely in the abstract. For
