The second time, this "butterfly" arrived at five in the morning. Again my heart was ready to jump out of my chest, I didn't have enough air ... the insect's wings fluttered more and more, leaving gray pollen on the glass for some reason. I was able to wake up - the nurse came to give me a shot. That same day, the nurse said the night had been restless, terrible - a young woman had died of covid in the next room. When she first got sick at three in the morning, they did resuscitation, hooked up a ventilator, and she died at five in the morning, right about the time a nurse walked into our room.

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