“My father died at home, while I was holding the oximeter on his finger and the oxygen values in his blood and his heart rate dropped to nothing. While in contact with the pulmonologist I increased the level of the oxygen tank.
While I was desperate, with my mother in shock.
There should have been a doctor or a healthcare worker at that moment, but there was no one because from the moment of the crisis (an hour before) I insistently called 118 but no one answered me. Nobody.
No general practitioner or any other type (my father had mostly been examined privately, because otherwise… bye) came to the house to confirm the death, to give us a cause of death.
Only the next morning did a medical examiner, intercepted by the funeral home, come for a DNA test for the purposes of cremation. And he confirmed his death.
My father worked all his life, paid a lot of taxes; the few fines he received he paid after an hour, if he hadn’t had some savings for private visits he would have died sooner.
In the immense pain, alongside the anger, I am unable, even at this moment, to renounce the honor of truth.
After Covid, the life of human beings seems to be worth even less than before. Sometimes it seems like cannon fodder.
This is our country, this is reality.
While all around there is propaganda for yet another election.” Leave a post on Facebook to Francesca Mari, journalist and reporter for Il Mattino, as well as a friend of our editorial team. The father, Gabriele, passed away on Monday 27 May, while he was at home. In Francesca’s heartbreaking story, the evident limits of healthcare in the Vesuvian territory.
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