I.C.U. -- But Now I don't

There’s an immediate kinship among I.C.U. patient families, everyone living hospital-staged dramas, individuals cast in supporting roles of various ranks.

Between 2-at-a-time bedside visits, I.C.U. sentinels befriend one another in the waiting room, chat by the elevators, share cafeteria breakfast tables. Personal concerns, blended.


Everyone flung into the same leaky lifeboat.


Yesterday, I received Dad’s post-surgery thank-you-for-being-there note. More than anything, I felt lucky. Ours was a happy ending.

But it made me wonder – what about those we’d left in the I.C.U. ...

Did they make it to shore?