As the intercom announced the end of visiting hours, I grabbed my coat, kissed my wife (without a mask – don’t tell Dr. Fauci), and headed toward the elevator. Hanging my head a bit, I sighed while recalling countless hours in hospitals during 35-plus years as her caregiver – and through her more than 80 operations. A 1983 car accident left Gracie severely disabled and eventually cost her both legs, and most recently, a 9-hour surgery on her back. Briefly lost in reflection, I overheard a group of nurses laughing loudly. Turning to see the commotion, I discovered they put baby pictures of them…