I live in New York City, smack in an area that has more hospitalizations and deaths than any place else in the world, with 134,436 confirmed cases and 10,022 deaths so far. Two thousand panicked people show up in the emergency room every day and by nightfall six hundred patients are dead.

I watch in horror as my hospital – the place which delivered my son, the place which saved my life after a massive heart attack, the place where I volunteer to visit lonely patients – are now carrying corpses in black plastic bags into refrigerated tents, which line Park Avenue.

I’m one of the people, whom they keep saying, is at high risk. My heart problems and my age mean that I’m a person with underlying conditions.

I’m terrified.

I haven’t left my apartment building in over a month. My son walks the dog and handles grocery deliveries. I wear a mask and gloves when I venture down to the laundry room.

Living in a multi-unit dwelling has its own risks, just getting on an elevator with other tenants, interacting with doormen (who I’m sure are equally scared) to pick up packages. I bought an oxygen meter, in case I feel breathless, and a defibrillator, in case I go into cardiac arrest and the overwhelmed ambulance drivers can’t reach me in time.

I’m doing everything I can, just to stay alive.

That being said –

I’m grateful. I’m grateful for the health care workers, who are now the true celebrities, who take mass transit to work every day and risk their lives trying to save ours, for the transit workers, for the underpaid grocery clerks, for the delivery men, and for the restaurant workers, who are holding on by a thread, offering take out services.

I’m grateful, that so far, thank God, I’m one of the lucky ones.

I’m very comfortable in my own apartment, which by New York standards, is spacious. I have a flat screen television with thousands of channels and the cupboard is stocked with my favorite foods. I have a huge social network and we commiserate, I can chat with my friends, FaceTime with my family, zoom with my women’s groups.

I can use this spare time productively, work on the next book of my mystery series, take up meditation, create cards for the elderly with the Catholic Eldercare, exercise with videos that my gym has made available and increase my praying time.

Because I’m retired I don’t have to worry about losing my job.

Governor Cuomo has been outstanding and I’m grateful for his leadership. He says we are past the plateau and, if we keep doing what we’re doing, wearing masks, staying home, when necessary using social distance, washing our hands, things will continue to improve. I hope so and I hope people don’t become impatient and complacent.

I think we all agree that the scariest part of this “invisible enemy” is that it’s so random. One person, who selfishly refuses to wear a mask in public, gets the disease and has minor or no symptoms at all. While someone else, who takes all the social precautions, touches a contaminated elevator button, and ends up on a ventilator.

And the most important question is – how will it all end

Obviously not in the typical end of a war, where everyone runs into the street and kisses and hugs their neighbors. The doctors are using the word “gradual” but no one is sure of what that actually means. There is talk of testing, but what kind of testing, where to get these tests, how will the test be administered and who will pay for them.

As for me, I can only hope that I am using this time to realize, in the end, what is truly important, good health and strong relationships, being accountable to one another and emerging stronger, healthier and more productive than before.

I wish the same for you.

Stay healthy. Stay strong.