It started with a low grade fever in late March. By then, the novel coronavirus was infecting large parts of the country including Henderson, Nevada where my parents, Larry and Anne Sandell, live in an assisted living apartment community. The residents had been quarantined in their apartments for two weeks and their temperatures were checked by the staff twice each day. On March 27, my 84-year-old mother had a low grade fever. The nurse decided not to take any chances.
My father grew sicker, his fever spiking to 104, and he was put on oxygen for COVID pneumonia. My mother was suffering cognitive decline. She could not remember her own birthday or what she was supposed to do when she heard the telephone ring. My parents have been together since 1952 when they were 16 and 17-year-old college freshmen.
On April 29 my mother was discharged from rehab and my parents were reunited after four weeks apart, but the closest they could get to each other was across the room, their faces covered by masks. They could not have their first kiss or sleep in the same room until May 8. Bruce, who is able to work remotely, stayed at the house with them for most of the next five weeks, along with professional caretakers and therapists.Bruce SandellFor the past month they've been consistently improving.
But if they want to attend George Floyd rallies, protests, and violence get togethers, that's apparently A-OK.
Awwww... the feels... I can’t ...