[ad_1]
There are places of silence and waiting in the São João Hospital, in Porto, where many of those infected by the virus are concentrated, which annihilated habits, released hugs, hid smiles behind masks, devastated families and reduced our living space, in hope . too often inglorious, to stop the rampant curve of infections and deaths.
There are corners of silence and interior collection in the labyrinths of this gigantic hospital where the clocks are frozen with the hope of those who have already spent their tears and bet everything on the game against the implacability of death and disease; places where the calls to mercy of a God made by a machine that unites the sick with life echo.
You win and lose every day in these places where darkness falls at night, thickening the cold of the windows that part and the doors that close. It is that the virus, by not seeing itself, drives away those who want to look into the eyes, those who yearn for touch, the consolation of a word that redeems and gives hope.
That is what so many thousands of professionals do, from doctors and nurses who give the sick face and sweat, to those who, without a name in the newspapers, clean the corridors as if hiding the disease, wash clothes at 60 degrees, they cook food so that the body does not faint.
Without them, and without these places of waiting and silence where so many watch over those who sleep, it is not possible to keep this machine of saving and losing lives in operation. Natalie Faria
See also the report of the São João Hospital: “Everything is coming back again, earlier than expected. And we are also more tired “
[ad_2]
