My dad did everything to avoid COVID-19. Nothing worked.

Wednesday makes it 11 days since my father was rushed to Signature Healthcare Brockton Hospital in Massachusetts. On Monday, my sister Angie called the hospital to check on him only to find out that our father had been intubated after having a heart attack from COVID-19-related complications. It was one of several calls made to the hospital since he was admitted, and one of many being made in Massachusetts, where the state has over 68,000 COVID-19 cases.

One of those cases is my father, Joseph Saint-Louis.

More than a week ago, my sister Sorraya called an ambulance after she found him confused at our home in Brockton. His words were slurred, his manner disoriented. He thought he was still at my brother Ronald’s home in Uniondale. When the ambulance arrived, his blood sugar was above 480, his fever blew 100. COVID-19 protocols did not allow family to accompany him to the hospital.

On Long Island, the news of his illness flattened the rest of the family like a bulldozer. Suddenly, the world was at a standstill and nothing else mattered. We’d been consumed by COVID-19 news and knew the chances of survival. My father does not smoke or drink. He follows a strict diet and is trim. But he is a 76-year-old diabetic, and diabetics are especially vulnerable to this virus.

Knowing the risks, my father mostly self-isolated, not leaving the house for two months. He slept alone in a bedroom, coming out only to eat, use the bathroom and occasionally play with his grandson, Liam. My mother, Balckis, who works at a nursing home, changed clothes after work, showered as soon as she got home, and did not interact with my father.

Still, my dad tested positive for COVID-19.

Once he was admitted, we couldn’t reach him. He was still disoriented and hospital staff thought it best to let him rest. Concerned friends and family called the hospital, wanting to check on him. But in the time of COVID-19, you can’t contact loved ones as they fight for their lives. You feel helpless. You don’t think about yesterday because yesterday life made sense. You don’t think about tomorrow because you can’t fathom what might come. But the news cycle won’t leave you alone. There are more than 1.1 million confirmed cases in the United States, and over 70,000 people have died, many of them with hospital staff at their side. And now a draft government report projects COVID-19 cases could surge to about 200,000 a day by June 1.

The first time we heard my father’s faint, discouraged voice was three days after he was hospitalized. My brother-in-law Jn-Robert dropped off his cellphone at the hospital, and my father was able to pick up, but barely able to utter a word. He knew he was hospitalized with COVID-19, and was scared. He’s not doing well, we’re not doing well. We’re angry because we can’t be there with him, but we’re also grateful. The hospital is giving him the attention he needs and answering our calls to get updates. My sister Angie, a nurse who cares for COVID-19 patients in Brooklyn, is his designated proxy. She advocates on his behalf but he’s still alone.

We haven’t been able to see him, so we wait. We wait for good news, or bad news, to celebrate or mourn. He is scared, fighting, possibly feeling forgotten. We look for joy in the laughter of a 2-year-old who doesn’t know why his Papi hasn’t played with him in over a week. We lean on each other, and hope for the best. We’re thankful for nurses and doctors, family and friends, and life.

But our family’s nightmare is just beginning. Our mother has also tested positive.

Coralie Saint-Louis is an outreach and engagement manager for NextLI, a project of Newsday Opinion.