This archive report was first published on 23 April 2020.
As I write this, my mother is fighting a losing battle against end-stage liver disease and kidney failure. Her condition has nothing to do with Covid-19, but the pandemic's presence is felt in every aspect of her care.
Despite her age, my mother is not in a hospital or elder-care facility. She has not been tested for the virus, and it's unlikely she will be. Her Medicaid applications have been denied, and the inconsistent care she receives at a local public clinic has made it difficult for her to get the treatment she needs.
My brother, who lives just a few minutes away, risks visiting her to ensure she's still breathing. He scrubs himself clean after work to protect her, and his efforts to get her to eat something other than her usual applesauce and Vienna sausages are a testament to his love and concern.
As her health-proxy and power-of-attorney, I'm struggling to navigate the complexities of her care. Getting her to the lawyer for the necessary paperwork is a daunting task, and my brother and I spend hours strategizing transportation.
My mother's death will be a lonely one, and I'm afraid of the weight of her passing. We'll be unable to grieve properly, without the traditional repast or low-country songs that would normally accompany her passing.
It's a painful reminder of the pandemic's invisible grip on our lives, and the devastating consequences of social distancing on family bonds.
