This chapter presents an account of how the outbreak of COVID-19 was experienced in hospitals in Northern Italy, specifically in Bergamo and Brescia, and of how the initial shock and silence eventually gave way to the need for sound and rhythm. In March and April 2020, anesthesiologists and people in intensive care units (ICUs) reported that there was only a shocking silence, as the numbers of deaths mounted and even people “trained” to see death as ICU anesthesiologists were traumatized by the devastating force of the virus. At a time when verbal communication was severely impaired by the need to wear personal protective equipment (PPE) and by isolation, doctors and nurses eventually resorted to music and movement as a coping strategy in such challenging circumstances. This chapter narrates that experience and discusses the role of rhythm and music as part of a language of caring, an act of comfort, and an effort to make meaning and restore energy.
TopThe Tsunami In The Intensive Care Units
Anesthesiologists and people in ICUs reported that, during March and April 2020, there was only a shocking Silence, witnessing the overwhelming death in Bergamo, Brescia, and Milan: even people “trained” to see death as anesthesiologists in intensive care were traumatized by the devastating force of the virus.
Silence was sovereign in the same corridors where only a few weeks earlier the soundscape consisted of doctors and nurses chatting, patients waiting, and caregivers speaking in a low voice: now, opening the doors in the ICU – all the main hospitals were efficiently transformed into ICUs –, the only dominant sound was that of the ventilators, with their low pitches recalling sci-fi movies, to break this silence. As Albano noticed: “The thing that struck me the most was the silence in the corridors: you have to know that in a hospital the corridors are always public places of passage, people, relatives, doctors, nurses, stretchers, it's a bustle, but the corridors were empty” (Albano, 2020).
Doctors and nurses were entirely dressed up in personal protection, made by a long-sleeved water-resistant gown, wearing face shield masks and gloves. As a result, their bodies were significantly limited in movements, there were barriers to let one’s voice out and hurdles to listening, and the visual horizon was minimal. Every guideline to build empathy in the pre-pandemic age was not applicable anymore: the creation of a safe space as in the rules of Stephen Porges (2001), according to his Polyvagal Theory, given by the harmonic pitch of the voice, gestures, prolonged eye contact, touch, soft light, containment of noises due to artificial technology could not be applied.
Tremendous despair and grief petrified verbalization in the ICUs: eventually, tears were shed among colleagues as if they were released as mute words after nights when dozens of people died in every hospital.