The machines breathe around the bed, doors remain closed to slow the spread.
With their own lives on the line, the team masks, up all the time.
But their greatest tool isn’t PPE, it’s a love of life, and empathy
for the patients in their care, on ICU, where wins are rare.
Dressed in blue from head to toe, Colby’s masked and ready to go,
wherever this virus takes him, to battles he knows he cannot win.
To the glass he lifts a scribbled sign, held in latex gloves, two lines
read like the saddest country song.
“I don’t think he has that long, I’m going to hold his hand for a bit.”
He turns, goes back down to sit, and he holds that dying patient’s hand.
Through glass, colleagues watching understand.
This dramatic final scene is no episode of House you’ve seen.
It’s not a Scrubs that’s gone too far, this is real, it’s where we are.
It’s the world we are living in today.
But for every patient that slips away the smallest gestures mean so much, the simple warmth of human touch.
At the end, no words are spoken.
Stifling silence, only broken when machines say this battle’s done, and the team masks up for the next one.