Claves para ayudar emocionalmente en una crisis
Translator: Gisela Giardino
Reviewer: Sebastian Betti
It was Wednesday, we were all quiet
in the ambulance.
Outside, the sirens of the first line
of response could be heard.
Firefighters, police, more ambulances.
Arriving at Once Train Station
we met thousands of people.
Many screaming, running, disoriented,
looking for their loved ones.
Hundreds of journalists,
TV crews on location,
the horns of the busses,
the noise was deafening.
In the middle of that chaos
I see a boy sitting on the sidewalk,
he was in his twenties.
A blank stare, broken jeans and T-shirt.
And bloodstains on his only shoe.
I approach him slowly,
respecting his personal space,
I sit next to him and introduce myself.
“I’m Silvia from the Ministry of Health.
What’s your name?”
He doesn’t answer.
His body was there but his mind
was still trapped in the train.
I wait and, calmly, I say again:
“I’m Silvia, can I help you?”
He turns his head, and asks for John,
he says John walked ahead in the train
because he was late for work.
He goes quiet again.
And, touching his pockets, he says:
“I want to call my mom
to let her know I’m fine.”
Suddenly he stands up, I stand up,
and before he leaves
I offer him my cell phone.
“Call whoever you need,
or if you prefer, I call”, I say.
“I want to go home”, he says in anguish.
“Of course”, I reply.
“But first we need to make sure
that you’re okay.
I’ll stay with you until you’re checked
and, in the meantime,
we called your mom together.”
Connect. Support. Protect.
These three actions
performed at the right time
can prevent us from
putting our life at risk again
or that we are left with an open wound
that it turns into trauma.
When we face the unexpected –
what we always thought
was going to happen to others –
we perceive ourselves in danger
and we feel shaken.
Suddenly, everything becomes threatening.
And fighting or fleeing are the options.
But you know what?
Our brain, flooded with
stress hormones,
can’t think clearly.
We lose our internal compass
and do illogical, disorganized things.
In the middle of disasters,
these reactions can lead to death.
We can jump off a 45th floor
in the attempt to flee,
like it happened
in the Twin Towers attack.
We can wander disoriented
in the midst of a flood,
like in La Plata, 2013.
Or go back to the fire,
like it happened in the fire
at Cromañón’s nightclub.
And in the long run,
timely emotional support
helps prevent great suffering.
Because today’s fear can end up
in future panic attacks.
Or sadness in depression.
As it has been widely documented
by the World Health Organization.
Fortunately, what we can do
to help is very simple:
Connect, by introducing ourselves,
keeping calm,
enduring the silences without promising
what we won’t be able to do.
Support, by listening, understanding
how difficult the situation is,
without repeating that
falsely reassuring phrase,
“everything’s going to be okay”,
“it was a lucky misfortune”,
“it could have been worse”.
But certainly using those magic words:
“How can I help you?”
And never forget to Protect,
making sure to accompany the person
until they regain internal control
and can help themselves.
Now, you don’t need an earthquake
to tear down your house,
a flood to leave everything floating,
to feel a disaster
knocking on the door.
The same sense of despair,
vulnerability,
irrationality, can occur
in everyday situations.
The diagnosis of a severe illness.
The loss of a loved one.
Being the victim of a robbery,
or a crash on the road.
Who can claim the right of judging
that feeling of impending doom
that invades us when we discover
that the person we love
doesn’t love us anymore?
The emotional dimension
of a disaster is personal and unique.
At a time like this we can struggle
with the one pointing a gun at us,
get out of a crashed car and walk
down the road among the trucks,
or cross the street looking to the side
contrary to where traffic comes from,
leaving the doctor’s office.
No one is safe during a crisis.
Sometimes we are on one side of it,
and sometimes the other.
And when they happen, we hardly
have a specialist handy.
But at that moment, any of us
may become that first line of response.
Connecting. Supporting. Protecting.
Not long ago, I received in late night
a phone call from my daughter
saying she was on ER.
When I arrive, I find her lying
on the floor of a crowded room,
completely in pain.
Scared, I grab the first
wheelchair I find
and I push her to the ER.
She collapses in my arms.
I yell at a doctor
and they enter my daughter to the ICU
through a door that closes in my face.
I wait in that narrow dark hallway,
5, 10, 15 minutes, I don’t know,
I feel like it’s hours.
I knock insistently but nobody comes out
to tell me anything.
Until I desperately push the door
and I get in looking for her.
Moving every curtain, box by box.
That’s when someone comes to me.
She talks to me softly
and introduces herself.
She tells me she’s a resident doctor.
She asks me what I need.
And she listens to me
without interrupting me.
She tells me she will stay
with my daughter
until they take her to the O.R.
and she will keep me in the loop.
My daughter and I still thank today
that resident physician,
Victoria, I remember her name,
her understanding, her presence
and her words.
Connect, Support, Protect,
can do, really,
a difference in the world.