The first time I treated someone with known COVID-19, a patient in the ICU, I distinctly remember thinking, It’s here, right now. It’s here in this room with us. Another entity: The patient, myself, the speech-language pathologist who was orienting me as a new hospital employee, and the Newly Described Thing. Despite a definite diagnosis, despite knowing that diagnosis before entering the room, there was nonetheless a slow moment of reconciliation for me, where I had read about the Thing, I had heard about it, but to be in a room with it was wholly other. There was a feeling of matter for me then, of the voluminous—that is, this invisible Thing was crowding in—and inevitably that matter, that feeling of the voluminous, they ached and continue to ache with multiple meanings.