Dispatches

Anna Delamerced

I hear him now, his car rolling into the driveway.

Before entering the house, Dad has to

Change his clothes in the garage. He

Hurries upstairs to the bathroom and showers.

Mom makes him decontaminate everything;

His briefcase, his laptop, his glasses.

Each time he enters the hospital he’s

Being exposed to patients carrying something

Deadlier than we had imagined

Every morning and every night, we wipe the doorknobs -

In the kitchen mom asks, half seriously, if I’m

Reconsidering medicine; I tell her

No, if anything, I’m more motivated. We clean the bathroom sink

The floors, cupboard handles, the water pitcher - I see

The amount of disinfecting wipes dwindling.

An empty nest now filled with me and my brothers

Quarantining ourselves in the basement when we

First came home from school. No sharing of toothpaste. No sharing

Of hand towels. Disinfect your phone, your glasses, your backpack,

Everything. We are on lockdown. A few weeks ago, I would have thought

That was overboard. I regret even thinking that.

Now I wonder, what else can be done? What else should have been done?

When can I hug my dad again?

Anna Delamerced is a medical student at the Warren Alpert Medical School of Brown University. Her works have been published in KevinMD, Medscape, Abaton, in-Training, Doximity, Plexus, and Cornerstone. She is passionate about listening to people tell their stories.