After documenting a last-resort treatment at one hospital, a photographer who spent hours in patients’ rooms describes capturing the humanity of the struggle.Times Insider explains who we are and what we do, and delivers behind-the-scenes insights into how our journalism comes together.As I photographed people in Covid-19 intensive care units early this year, I was protected by four sets of plastic: glasses, goggles, face shield and viewfinder. But there is no protection for the pain one takes in.I captured images for a recent Times article about a last-resort Covid treatment called ECMO, documenting coronavirus patients and the medical professionals caring for them at Providence Saint John’s Health Center in Santa Monica, Calif. The families allowed me to share in the darkest moments of their lives.I felt privileged to be let into these sacred spaces. As a journalist, I feel it is my responsibility to have the emotional bandwidth to be with people in moments that most of society cannot handle. Despite safety guidelines that advised against spending long periods inside ICU rooms, I spent hours with each patient, lingering for an extended amount of time to be able to get a sense of the person and bring forth an emotional spectrum of moments.José Cervantes plays a song by Nipsey Hussle for his son, Alfred Sablan, in the ICU at Saint John’s.Isadora Kosofsky for The New York TimesDr. Terese Hammond watches a procedure to take Dr. David Gutierrez off of ECMO in the ICU. He was released in June.Isadora Kosofsky for The New York TimesVerbal interaction helps me connect with those I photograph. On this assignment, some people were not awake or couldn’t speak, and the most powerful connection was often silent.I would stand next to the bed of Alfred Sablan, 25, and imagine the sound of his voice, trying to sense the gentle manner his mother described. I would lean over the bed of Dr. David Gutierrez, 62, a physician who had become a patient himself, and remind him who I was. He would look back, unable to respond with words, but I felt our connection over the classic rock playing on his iPad.Ruby Acosta looking at her son, Alfred Sablan. He died in March. Isadora Kosofsky for The New York TimesPeriodically, a staff member would enter to check on Mr. Sablan or Dr. Gutierrez. “Are you OK?” asked a nurse as she cracked the door of Dr. Gutierrez’s room. He nodded “yes.”Amid all the pain, there were reminders of grace.