In the lobby of a prestigious nursing home in Washington, D.C., visitors unceremoniously come and go. The hospice suite on the first floor of the facility occupies a tranquil wing of patient rooms decorated like home, and a tall, thin woman in teal-colored scrubs steers a large, blue stroller onto the unit. Upon arrival, it is always covered with a soft pastel, baby blanket — but there’s a pretty big guarantee that the happy babies inside will never cry or scream loudly and disturb the peace. The two visitors who have been chauffeured in by stroller always check-in at the nurses’ station. Predictably, everyone stops writing on charts and comes closer to peek inside and smile. Often, the quietness and somberness of the afternoon is interrupted by a gleeful shout, “The bunnies are here!”
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