Grief in the Pandemic

"It shouldn’t take a pandemic to let grief run its course."

Lindsay Lee Wallace writes in "The unexpected gift of grieving in lockdown" about the welcome opportunity the pandemic gave her to have some time and space to mourn.

It was a testament to how unwell I’d been that I suddenly felt more at home.

Staying in was not only allowed, but mandated. I could eat fistfuls of cereal for every meal, wear the same sweatpants for days on end, and sleep in until the last possible moment.

I was fortunate to have a job that allowed me to work from home. Work, previously a venue of forced cheer and endless exclamation points, became softer. Every email was written with extra care—people had no idea what others were dealing with, could scarcely believe their own circumstances.

Without having to worry about colleagues at the next desk over, I could do what I needed most, and simply cry.

A Doctor Regrets Telling a Patient He is Dying

In  ‘You’re Dying,’ I Told My Patient. I Wish I Hadn’t. Dr. Daniela J. Lamas writes:

In most contexts, it is a doctor’s responsibility to tell our patients the truth, to help them to understand even the most devastating realities. But when I think about that night, I know that I added to my patient’s pain in the last hours of his life. I wish that I had done it differently. I could have paused and told him that yes, he was going to go home. I could have simply been there with him and said nothing at all. That small kindness might have done more for him than the truth.