I slip through the slightly cracked door. “Knock, knock,” I say, but mom is hidden under the blankets, resting while there are so many of us to take over for her for a tiny bit. In the darkness, I make my way to the crib, where a crack of sunlight peers through from the slightly opened blinds and shines onto the little one. She’s breathing, with some difficulty, but breathing. Oxygen ...

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I watched the young woman across from me wrap the soft stretch of fabric around her face. She folded a part of it that hung close to her ears and loosened it slightly, put her fingers slowly under the fabric and experimented with how much room there was. Would a stethoscope earpiece fit through each side easily? She unwrapped it again. Repeated the same finger test. She had chosen a light ...

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