«An entire night thrown next to a massacred comrade with his gnashed mouth turned towards the full moon with the congestion of his hands penetrating my silence I wrote letters full of love I have never been so attached to life”
They are verses that precede the letter-complaint of a professional from Terni: «It was 10.30pm on May 1st when, sitting in the atrium of the emergency room of the Santa Maria hospital in Terni, these verses came to mind. I had spent a whole day in this place, where my mother, eighty-three years old and with a pacemaker, found herself crowded together with eighty other sick people in narrow rooms, designed for transit and not for the hospitalization of patients.
Between screams and groans, under the dim night light, doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, running from one wounded man to another as if in a trench riddled by enemy shots. A subtle enemy, who day after day has deprived them of the resources necessary to fight; an enemy who wants to dismantle a hospital, already the flagship of national healthcare; an enemy who, for obscure reasons, wants to take away a hospital from our city, forcing us to emigrate north for treatment. Dear President and Dear Councillors, I invite you to go to the Terni Emergency Department on any given day to understand what it is like to live in a trench and I hope to see on the social networks used by you daily a bombastic advert in which you will boast of having a place end to the war.”
