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Across the United States, black and Hispanic people suffer disproportionately from poverty, poor health care and chronic diseases like diabetes, hypertension and asthma. Now the data, when it is available, shows that black and Hispanic Americans are dying of the coronavirus disease at rates far higher than white Americans.In New York City, Hispanic people are dying at the highest rate. Nearly 34 percent of the deaths in New York City are of Hispanic residents, who make up 29 percent of the population. Black New Yorkers, who represent about 22 percent of the city’s population, make up about 28 percent of the deaths. (4/11)

The novel coronavirus, as far as we know, does not discriminate along racial lines. But America does — and the data so far show that black people are dying at a disproportionate rate. The first thing to do about it? Get more of that data, and fast. The numbers trickling in from cities, counties and states in recent weeks are alarming: Chicago’s population is about 30 percent black, but so are nearly 70 percent of those in the city killed by the virus. Milwaukee County looks worse: Black people make up 26 percent of the population, and a whopping 73 percent of covid-related deaths. In Michigan, it’s 14 and 41; in Louisiana, it’s 32 and 70. Maryland has a 30 percent black population and reported Thursday that black residents account for 40 percent of the state’s deaths. We don’t know the federal statistics yet, because there aren’t any. (4/10)

A few weeks ago, Hannah Sparks of The New York Post reported on “a morbid — and chillingly astute — new slang term for the coronavirus pandemic: boomer remover,” because the virus has proved particularly deadly for the elderly. But, because it is also disproportionately deadly for men and for African-Americans, I worry about how it will affect black men in particular, and have come to use another chilling term to characterize it: a “brother killer.” (Charles Blow, 4/12)

Despite being home to premiere academic medical institutions and a thriving biotech hub, Massachusetts has not achieved health equity across race and ethnicity. Never mind that we were the first state in the nation to offer true health care reform. Boston alone is saturated with Level 1 trauma centers and a plethora of physicians. Yet the experience for many poor communities of color has been anything but ideal. The devastation that COVID-19 has unleashed in our communities of color requires bold and immediate action. (Jon Santiago, Rachael Rollins, and Ayanna Pressley, 4/10)

The global economic and social devastation brought by the COVID-19 pandemic is revealing stark contrasts between the fortunate and vulnerable in American society. Predictably, it appears that our Native American communities will once again have to pick ourselves up by the bootstraps in the face of what appears to be slow, inadequate relief from the federal government. In addition to failing infrastructure, lack of access to health care and a sizable percentage of the population at risk for the most severe COVID-19 complications, tribal communities are also facing bleak economic prospects. Our most consistent revenue generator — land-based casino gaming — has disappeared virtually overnight. (Gary Davis, 4/10)

People with underlying medical conditions -- such as heart disease, diabetes and kidney disease -- are more likely to be hospitalized and die as a result of the virus. In the United States, these patients disproportionately include people of color. This horrifying reality, unfolding throughout the United States was, sadly, predictable. We need to act now to prevent staggering death rates from Covid-19 in black communities across America. (Clark-Cutaia, 4/11)

Why would a slight, 79-year-old physician-scientist stand up to a volatile, combative President Trump on national television? Here’s a related question: Why do millions of health care workers — doctors, nurses, emergency responders, aides, transport specialists, and more — risk their lives every day to care for those with Covid-19, a potentially deadly infection? Personal courage is part of the explanation. But there’s more to it than that. (David Blumenthal, 4/13)

The vast majority of Americans, across all age groups, are practicing social distancing, according to our KFF polling. Why it matters: The public doesn’t always act in its best interests when it comes to health — but this time, people are. And it’s helping to “flatten the curve” of the coronavirus pandemic. By the numbers: At the end of March, between 77% and 89% of all age groups were sheltering in place. Those are remarkable numbers, considering that essential workers are leaving their home and several states still do not have stay-at-home directives in place. (Drew Altman, 4/13)

Can we talk about toilet paper? My stash is running low, and my guess is yours is too. I’ve haunted the paper goods aisle in my neighborhood stores and scoured online sites. Everything’s gone or on back order. The supply chain has been disrupted by coronavirus pandemic panic buyers, and it’s not clear when it will get back on track. It’s easier to score a delivery appointment on Amazon Fresh than a single, scratchy generic roll. But I’m not worried. I’m so over toilet paper. (Mariel Garza, 4/13)

Health care workers are responding to the onslaught of the Covid-19 pandemic with professionalism and courage. Doctors and nurses have been, by far, the faces seen on nightly news videos or the voices quoted in news articles. Yet many other workers are involved in patient care and make it possible for hospital ecosystems to function properly — janitors, transport specialists, baristas, administrative clerks, dietitians, and more. They, however, tend to be invisible to the world outside of hospitals doors. (Gray Moonen, 4/13)

I was supposed to be home in Italy for my spring break. Instead, as my parents are self-quarantining in our house near Milan, the epicenter of the coronavirus outbreak in Italy, I am stranded in Washington, D.C., self-isolating in college housing more than 4,000 miles away from them. I want to go home, but I’m afraid to do so. (Silvia Martelli, 4/12)

Whether you are 18 or 80, advance care plans make it easier for doctors to provide care that honors the wishes of an individual if they are unable to speak for themselves. In the ER, we have minutes to make a decision that will dictate if a person might live on a machine or pass a natural death. I always make decisions based on what I think is best for the patient, but unless people have an advance care plan, that is exceedingly difficult. If I’m told about a patient’s wishes, not only does my work become more person-centered — it can also be quicker. As we handle massive influxes of patients amid dwindling yet crucial resources, time is everything. (Elizabeth P. Clayborne, 4/10)

In the weeks since I was hospitalized for the coronavirus, the same question has flooded my email inbox, texts and direct messages: Are you better, yet? I don’t yet know how to answer. While the widespread support from friends, family and strangers has been very heartwarming, I’ve also struggled to reconcile the genuine happiness expressed at my improving condition with my own lingering symptoms, confusion about contagion, and anxieties about relapse. When I tested positive for coronavirus on March 17, I didn’t know what to expect. Much remains unknown about the virus, and many of the symptoms I experienced, such as gastrointestinal issues and loss of smell, were only just being identified. (Fiona Lowenstein, 4/13)

Yet accessing a laundromat is still challenging for many Americans. Though the exact number of Americans who rely on laundromats to wash their clothes is not measured, the Coin Laundry Association estimates the coin laundry industry to generate $5 billion in gross revenue annually. (Allister Chang, 4/10)