In the huge intensive care unit (ICU) of the Emilio Ribas Institute of Infectious Diseases in Sao Paulo, anger spread among doctors when they asked for the president’s remarks. “Rebel,” says one. “Irrelevant” declares another.
Dr. Jackstjonbok is more restrained. “It’s not a flu. It was the worst situation we’ve had in our professional lives.” His eyes are slow and narrow, when I ask if he is concerned for his health. “Yes,” he said, twice.
The reasons inside the irresistible silence of the ICU are clear. The coronavirus has killed behind the scenes of the hospital, in a silent peace, it is so far away and alien in favor of global upheaval and political division of noise. But when it takes a lifetime, it’s intimately horrible.
The first noticeable break in peace was a flash of red light. Second, a physician’s hair covering runs just above and below any privacy screen, as his rigid arms provide a patient with stiff and powerless chest compressions.
The patient is in his forties, and the history of his treatment means that his survival adversity is bad days but suddenly when the change comes.
Another nurse came running. Medical personnel in this ICU are rushing to an outer chamber to wash the gown and take a break, but a few moments before the run rid these moments have come countless times before in the epidemic, however, today is not an easy day. This ICU is full, and still the peak in Sওo Paulo is probably two weeks away.
Through the glass, the gowned stuffs jerk tightly together and round the patient’s head; Tube replacement; To transfer texture; Change their position and get rid of each other’s tedious work. Their forgiving contractions in the patient’s sternum are what keep him alive.
Cooler, a doctor appeared to take a break in the corridor air, sweating in his chest. The slam of a sliding glass door – a rare sound – comes rushing to the other. For 40 minutes, the silent frantic concentration continues. And then without audible warning it suddenly shuts down. The lines of the heart monitor are permanently flat.
The coronavirus has damaged our lives so extensively, but the way to kill it is often confined to the ICU, where only sperm healthcare workers see trauma. And for the staff here, it feels close to everyday.
Two days before our visit, they lost their nurse colleague Marcia Alves for 26 years. Today, they are standing together in the glass of another isolated room, inside of which is a doctor from their team ub another colleague tested positive that day. The disease that has filled their hospital seems to be on the rise among them.
Emilio Ribas Hospital is full of bad news. There is no more bed space before the peak hits, and workers are already dying from the virus – but the city of Sওo Paulo is the most decorated and it has been a dark harbinger for weeks in Brazil. Its largest city is the richest, where the local governor insisted on facing a lockdown and mask. Yet there are cool indications that the death toll is closer to 1,000,000, with more than 76,000 confirmed cases – even perhaps the best-prepared place in Brazil – coming.
Wealth is not health Bolsonaro, who recently called the fight against the virus a “war”. But on May 14, he said: “We have to be brave to face this virus. Are people dying? Yes, they are, and I’m sorry. But if the economy is destroyed because of this, many more people are going to die.” [lockdown] By measuring. “
The disease has spread to Favelas
Across the city, there is no controversy over the favelas. It is a common thing to have next to something and some time ago it came from the rest of the city in its own form. But the priority here is clear for the long haul: survival.
When asked about Bensonaro’s opinion, Renata Alves smiled, shook her head and said “it’s irrelevant”, the virus is just “cold” her business is serious and every hour.
Around him, the serious work of survival hmm. In one room, rows of sealing machines are spread out, where women are taught to go back to their streets and make masks from wherever they can be found. The other brought 10,000 meals, prepared them and then sent out a very small number of people on the street, unable to keep the food on their own tables in the locker room.
Alves Parisopolis, a volunteer health worker from the G10 Favela Support Group, is heading to one of the worst-affected areas in the suburbs. Its narrow dense roads and highways explain why the disease is so widespread here.
And Alves realized that out of a possible 1 million patients, he knew only half the picture. Only when someone has three symptoms is he allowed to take the Covid-19 test and it is even provided here by a private donor. In many cases it becomes uncertain.
“Most of the time the test is done when the person is already at an advanced stage of the disease,” he said, adding that when he was on his way to Sabrina’s house, he had three small children with asthma isolated. Doctors use a wooden swab to test him with a flashlight on the back of his neck and greet his bored, surprised children before moving on.
“Cases can be tough,” Alves tells me. “We needed eight people to take an uninjured woman to our ambulance. And one person with Alzheimer’s … We had to ask our family if we could physically remove her from her home. It’s difficult.” The woman survived, the man died.
Maria Rosa da Silva is on a busy street – shaken when everyone seems to have come to see the garbage truck. The 53-year-old woman said she thought she went to a market here and found the virus, even though she was wearing a mask and gloves. So he has “locked off” his leaves in the courtyard without railings. Socially distance seems to be possible only here if you do it vertically.
“People like me are dying in risk groups,” he stressed. “Even the owner of the pharmacy died yesterday. Many are losing their lives due to someone’s negligence. If it is for the welfare of the society, we have to do it.”
An isolation center has been set up near the secluded school due to social responsibility on these dangerous and poor roads. The government gave the building to a privately funded project, which now has dozens of patients inside. It is ready for many more, including glittering uniform dormitories monitored by CCTV.
Other signs of preparation are less comforting. In the hills above Sao Paulo, the Villa Formosa cemetery trembles with mourning, and in anticipation Yahoo – bound with endless empty and fresh graves. A funeral seems to take place every ten minutes and even it doesn’t throw any water into the countless new holes dug in the red dust.
Brazil had a major start – for at least two months it witnessed the coronavirus tragedy around the world.
But inconsistent evidence around the world of the severity of the disease is instead the result of mixed messages from the government. And the data set of the death toll and new cases – sadly they as such – fail to reflect the full picture of the already ongoing tragedy
What has already happened elsewhere – and warnings have been taught around the planet – is the same thing happening here, and could be even worse.