Andra’ tutto bene - Everything will be alright

“Andra’ tutto bene”. This is the mantra that has been repeated everywhere in Italy since February. It has been painted by children, sang by singers and projected onto historical buildings around the country. I believe it’s true but I need to repeat it out loud to myself every morning to give me some strength for the daily struggle.

I am used to living far away from my family and friends. I have lived in four continents in the last three years and I have been in very remote areas around the globe. I have been confined within a hospital compound due to violence outside. I worked during a cholera outbreak. Most of what we are witnessing and living today is not completely new to me. But in many ways, it is very different and much harder.

Everybody has read and seen the display of events in Italy and since February my life has been complicated as an Italian living in a foreign country. 

At the beginning my main concern was making sure my family was safe and protected. I put them in strict isolation before the Italian government did and you can imagine the difficulties in telling people to remain locked down at home while everybody else was moving freely (Italians are stubborn…).

Meanwhile, I started hearing stories from my colleagues and friends in northern Italy and I had a mixture of guilt and restlessness knowing they were struggling, that they had a lack of doctors and that so many people were dying while life here was going on as usual. 

In the first week of March, I had a big dilemma. I was feeling uncomfortable with the idea of doing elective surgery like nothing was happening whilst I knew that back home they were struggling and here the same would happen soon. I also asked informally about the possibility of going home to help for a couple of weeks.

I had great support and understanding from the department and was told “do what was best for me”. I will be forever grateful that even in times of great need I was given the option and the freedom to choose.

I decided here was the place I could be most useful.

The first few days were very hectic. I needed something to occupy my time and to stop reading the number of cases,  deaths and the news. I joined Dave Hutchinson to help him create a pop up Critical Care. It was probably the most therapeutic thing to help me pass the first phase of this pandemic. I was kept occupied and had the chance and honour to work side by side with Dave. He probably did not realise it, but he gave me the moral support and help I needed to confront the fear of the uncertainty that was laying ahead.

After this first couple of weeks, I have been deployed to another ICU.

This last month has been challenging and deeply emotional. Some days I go home carrying on my shoulders the heavy burden of more failures than victories. Some days I spend the entire evening reviewing cases to see if I can do something different for any of my patients. Some days  I sit in silence preparing for an upcoming difficult family discussion. Some days the only thing I can think of is the tears of nurses struggling and scared to look after sick patients.

The most challenging thing, though, is seeing so many people dying alone and telling the families on the phone knowing that they will not see their loved ones again. And despite all of this, despite their sadness and fear, they always spare some kind words to thank us for our efforts. I am always amazed by how kindness can lift your spirit, even in the darkest of moments.

Like for everything, the most important memories of this period will be the many happy moments. The small victories, the smiles hidden under the face mask, the amazing colleagues I got the chance to work with and share the ups and downs. I am alone here in London but my colleagues have been my family during this time and I will be forever grateful.

On a personal level, I have tried to look after myself in many ways. I have doubled my running time. I have been cooking and experimenting with new recipes (like a very unlikely pesto with rocket, pistachios and orange juice). I spent three hours preparing homemade ravioli for lunch and then ate them all in five minutes. I started to knit a scarf and I bought an electronic drum kit and restarted playing music after many years.

I don’t know when and how, but I am certain of one thing: Andra’ tutto bene!

Andrea Falvo