As I wrote furiously from the early months of 2020 into 2022, the Covid-19 pandemic continued wildfiring its way throughout the globe. My hospital, my adopted city of New York, and my homeland overflowed with the bodies of the sick and the dead. By February 2020, the ICU beds at Columbia University Medical Center, where I work, were full of patients drowning in their own secretions, with mechanical ventilators forcing air in and out of their lungs. The early spring of ’20 was particularly bleak: New York turned into an unrecognizable, windblown metropolis of empty byways and avenues, where
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Covid was bad 💯 epistemic
