This post is also available in: Spanish
Why should they continue to struggle every day and risk their lives for a miserable wage and unbearable ingratitude? Why should they continue to care for us, if we not only do not care for ourselves, but we infect others and deny that we need to care for ourselves?
What is the point of exposing their physical and psychological health to generations of cynical and stubborn pedants? Is it really their duty to keep dying so that we can have an exotic drink with some flirt or friend?
Why do they have to turn on the oxygen to try to save the life of the father or grandfather of the one who wanted to go for a walk, to air himself out, to buy a new shirt? Do they really have to occupy a bed with the lady who forced her maid to disassemble his suitcase when she returned from her umpteenth trip?
Will the therapist have to turn every four hours to the tube that disdainfully said that “everyone was part of the plandemic”, that they were going to control society with a chip in an abortion fetus vaccine? Will the nurse have to take blood samples from those who succumbed to the temptation of eating a barbecue among friends, having a baby shower or celebrating a birthday on the sly?
Does the Hippocratic Oath make them so trustworthy to those who study medicine that they will not take revenge on those who caused the death of their co-workers, their families, those who are making them work double shifts for months resigning to be with their loved ones?
I admire these people. Those who have been putting up with it for years are being put on guard, working to manage shortages and save lives from collective abandonment. I admire that they know how to accept that a Saint is thanked and not the medical team for a successful operation; and at the same time they are tried to lynch them for the failure.
I admire that they continue to follow their schedules, their routines, their protocols. Let them continue to explain to those who cross them that they should not self-medicate, that they should not eat glass, that they should maintain care. And to get up every time they are shouted at that “it’s all a sham,” that “they’re going to die anyway,” that “they’re killing them.
But it’s no use admiring them, and when they call out I start clapping at the window. What I have to do is take care of everyone I can so that I don’t end up sick or making someone else sick. You can’t be indifferent. You can’t come up with an over-the-top theory and become a know-it-all who tries to make fools of the rest. Above all, with those who are, minute by minute, putting their bodies into saving lives.
I admire the temperance, humanism and commitment to the species of these health workers who have become the moral reserve of a society that is lethargic and does not know whether to give in to fear, disquiet, nihilism or hope. Stop looking at your navels and follow the example of those in white. It’s that way.