Art in Tough Times
Exciting New Documentary Coming to North Shore Towers
BY KAREN PERRY
The Covid pandemic has caused
the cancelation of major events
all over the world. At North Shore
Towers, we faced the cancelation of the
2020 edition of our popular art show.
However, the NST Special Events Committee
will not let you down.
This winter you will be treated to an
exciting documentary that will highlight
the abundant creativity and artistry of
our vibrant community. We will revisit
our enjoyment of past art shows with a
montage of show highlights. The current
NST art scene will be represented by interviews
with painters, sculptors, photographers and
artisans working in a variety of media.
Producing the documentary will be Morty
Schwartz, who brought you the “North Shore
Towers 40th Anniversary” video. Assisting him
will be Karen Perry and Julie Weissman, producers
of the 2016 and 2018 art shows and John Virga
and Marty Ragusa will lend their technical expertise
to the project. Availability on Channel 995
and On-Demand will allow for a wide audience.
Be sure to watch for announcements about
this documentary in upcoming editions of the
North Shore Towers Courier.
to interpret for my family what
the medical staff was saying and
he brought them up to date on my
condition. The doctors in ICU did
regularly contact my family about
how I was and what to expect next.
And then there was Joe*, a travel
nurse from France. He and his
family came to the United States
to help with COVID-19 patients
and he had already been at the
hospital for several months when
I arrived. He was my angel, caring
so personally for me on a regular
basis, he’d remind me to breathe
in from my nose and out through
my mouth. “Watch your oxygen
level,” he’d say. “Be sure to get it
as close to 100% as possible.” Joe
would talk to me like a real person.
He’d bang on my back to loosen
the congestion in my lungs, he’d
clean me from top to toe, he’d help
me get rid of all the “stuff” that was
in my bowels which I hadn’t been
able to move for weeks. And how
awful it was to try to use a bedpan
for all that time, let alone the device
they used to try to keep me from
wetting the bed. It generally wasn’t
successful. For a very clean and
immaculate professional person,
this was all a living nightmare.
Thank you, dear Joe. You were so
amazing and helped me make it
through.
After a month I was transferred
from the ICU to a regular hospital
room. Some of the nurses there
who cared for me the day I was
admitted told me they never
expected to see me again. Staff
from the hospital’s physical and
occupational therapy units came
to work with me over the next
few days. With great difficulty and
pain, I managed to stand up with
the help of the therapists and a
walker. Then I managed to sit in
a chair for part of the day and one
day I took a few halting steps. It
was like a miracle. All this while I
was using oxygen 24/7.
I was seen daily by Dr. K, a pulmonologist
from my own doctor’s
practice who ordered x-rays and a
CT scan with contrast. I became
constipated from the contrast
which kept me in the hospital for
several extra days, but it did confirm
that I did not have any blood
clots in my lungs.
*Names have been changed
throughout.
Where Have All
the Green Leaves Gone?
BY MARIAN NEMETSKY
Looking out my window one
day in the late Fall, I saw a
cloud-covered, murky grey
sky. Naked tree branches were
trying, unsuccessfully, to reach that
sky. Instead, they were being battered
about by a fierce wind, which
was howling, “Where have all the
green leaves gone?”
Growing up in Brownsville, the
garden spot of Brooklyn, there were
no trees to be seen as I looked out
of my window. In their place were
cracked, uneven, gritty streets,
and three deteriorating, vacant,
sad brownstones. Shards of glass
peeked out of yawning holes which
once held gleaming windows. Yet,
when it snowed, something magical
happened. A puffy cloud embraced
the gritty streets and tucked in the
ugliness on all sides. The houses
reclaimed their regal stateliness,
and the glass glittered like diamonds,
forming tiaras. The soft
snow whispered, “Where have all
the gritty streets gone?”
During the pandemic, the scene
outside my window was deceptively
calm. The sun was shining, and
all appeared serene and peaceful.
However, an evil, invisible killer
was on the hunt, stalking its prey
with a vengeance. After attending
countless Zoom funerals, it made
me wonder, “Where have all my
great friends gone?”
Springtime will bring back fluffy
clouds, happily drifting across brilliant
blue skies. Buds will begin to
sprout on the branches of trees. By
summer their graceful limbs will
again be awash in glorious green
leaves.
In Brownsville, the snowplows
will come and push the tarnished
snow into high mounds at the edge
of the sidewalks. I will become an
adventurous mountain climber,
traveling up and down the snowy
peaks and valleys. I will no longer
notice the gritty streets.
After Covid, the picturesque scene
will reappear. The sun will shine,
and serenity and peace will reign.
The invisible killer will be under
control.
Unlike the rebirth of spring and
the renewal of gritty streets, the killer’s
victims will not return. However,
there will always be a corner in my
heart which will hold the love and
memories of great friends.
January 2021 ¢ NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER 9