A friend had told us that Buffalo General was the best hospital in the city. We were prepared for the long wait at the emergency room lobby.
I checked at the front desk, hopeful. Soon, though, a bad premonition took hold of my girlfriend, Jennifer. She begged me to leave.
I refused.
My mask held me so tight against my chair that my lungs collapsed. According to the triage nurse: Code orange.
“Please, come with me,” said Jennifer. It broke my heart to say no.
