These letters simply seek to approach you, embrace and accompany.
Because everything was very fast and we barely had time.
I just want to tell you that the night your father died, all the team were there. You were beside his bed. We were at your service.
Nothing ended after I communicated the bad news and we thought he was dying. Despite we had been all day trying your father remain alive, connecting him to all our devices to try to make possible an impossible miracle. Leaving our skin.
We were there.
Serious infections sometimes win the game. It is so cruel and so simple. It is life and death, no more.
Your father was not one patient more: in fact, no one is a patient more.
For all professionals of intensive care, every ill person deserves our utmost respect and we give every second of our day to day for our patients.
Sometimes it is difficult to express it, at the end we do not know and perhaps there is no so much confidence to open ourselves. We are human and we have acquired an invisible trend toward self-defense. But it is our choice of life, and although sometimes the pain is unbearable, we are there. We are always there.
I just wanted to let you know that we care about your father, we care about you. Much more of what you believe or much more than we knew to transmit it.
The assistants, nurses and myself. We were there and we are still here.
I needed to tell you this, because we also need you to feel our heat. We also need to take care of us and heal us.
So, I send you a hug from me and all my team. Although I am not sure that we meet again.
And I accompany you in your feeling, because we are also for that.
Gabriel.
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