Covering the pandemic, and living it
Our New Delhi reporter Suhasini Raj has been covering the pandemic on all fronts for the past year. And then it got personal, she writes in Times Insider.
The coronavirus seemed to be an all-consuming story. And then it swallowed up my entire life.
In August, my father, who’s diabetic, contracted the virus. I had to rush him in an ambulance to New Delhi, because there was a shortage of beds in the few good hospitals for coronavirus patients in his city, Lucknow. He barely made it through.
While working on stories about “virus trains” — emergency transport provided by the government that also ended up spreading the virus — I went to my hotel room and called my family back home. My husband said that his father was showing symptoms of Covid-19. So was my husband. And my son.
In the span of a week, a number of my family members, including my sister-in-law and niece, had tested positive for the virus. After I arrived home, I had to take my husband, son and mother-in-law to the hospital.
I felt engulfed — physically and emotionally — by uncertainties, and struggled to keep morbid thoughts aside. How long would it be before the steroids they were prescribed take effect? What if their cases went from being moderate to severe?
After my father-in-law was discharged, I breathed a sigh of relief. But that was short-lived. He became short of breath. Later, as he struggled with his oxygen mask and tubes, he had a fatal heart attack.
In a surreal way, reporting on the coronavirus tragedies of other families helped me cope with Covid in my own. I knew I wasn’t alone, and I was heartened by the strength I saw in others. And conversely, seeing those I love get infected and losing a dear family member gave me a depth of empathy for others.
The New York Times