I was seriously tempted this week to jot down a few notes on the gutter press I read in last weekend’s papers, which also continued on some media this week. The temptation was great, but then I was overcome by a sense of guilt – why should I write about this when I have only recently criticised them? I decided to leave that for another day in the belief that our readers are intelligent enough to move on to other news reportage when the one they stop on is tantamount to foul water.

I was inadvertently reminded over these past couple of days of the true values of life, those of faith and solidarity.

I spent a few nights camping at the ITU Department earlier this week and it was an experience to remember. First and foremost, a special thanks has to go to the dedicated staff at the department. If my calculations are correct, they must be working with eight teams of nurses and doctors and they were all competent, helpful and dedicated. They made sure that one’s stay there was the least painful for the patient and the least uncomfortable for the relatives as possible.

The pain and suffering which is clearly visible there makes one ask whether we appreciate the value of our life and the right to life. The experiences there serve as a stark reminder that our life is temporarily given to us and that we may lose it at any moment. Neither health, nor age or intelligence will play a role in the moment of truth, at the hour of one’s death. At that point in time it is only faith that keeps you going.

We are all fully cognisant of this fact. As a people, us Maltese and Gozitans are so litigious that it begs the question whether it is worth arguing and fighting with others when we have such limited time here? I ponder over whether I should forward a suggestion that everybody within a certain age group should visit the ITU at least once every few years. Ignoring for a second the logistical nightmare it would cause, this would hopefully bring back a dose of much needed reality into our lives and make us live life to the full without wasting time on futile matters.

The second value which one experiences therein is that of solidarity on various fronts. Relatives of patients in critical condition but who are not in imminent danger feel duty-bound to be present outside the ITU for any eventuality that may befall their loved ones. A sense of community starts to bud between all those present, from different walks of life, different cultures, backgrounds and nationalities. The topic is always one – the eternal hope and prayer for their loved ones to recover. The time one spends there in the waiting room, be it night or day, moves everyone closer together into recounting their sorrows and making all efforts for everyone to spend their time there in as comfortable as possible a situation; people getting closer to each other as a result of unfortunate circumstances, others as a result of age and others as a result of some occurrence which will change their lives and the lives of their loved ones to come. The stories are grim and disaster spares no one; it knows no colour, shape, race, age or sex. For some of the victims it was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but those few seconds mean that life will never be the same again.

The information trickling in from the ward is many a time a difficult pill to swallow and at times turns to tears. There solidarity springs in, with comfort talk, coffee and words of encouragement.

All this begs the question of whether we need to be near a deathbed to realise that life is too short to stay arguing with one another, to realise that we cannot always have our way and that compromise is an investment in the stability and enjoyment of one’s patrimony. How can one explain that people get together as brothers and sisters while waiting for news from the ward, rejoicing when good news come for people they do not know and never met, with this all changing when one is on and about with his daily routine?

The respect and solidarity you experience is truly impressive. The welcome reserved for new entrants in the community, the encouragement and the guidance to make oneself comfortable for what could turn out to be a very long stay is truly heartening. It makes the beginning of this stay so much easier to take on board.

It would be, however, unjust if I were to finish this week’s few notes without once again praising all the staff at the ITU. Dealing with trauma on a regular basis, keeping focus on the job and not merely on the last patient in is no mean feat. It requires training and dedication and no case is treated as a lost cause. The staff at Mater Dei’s Intensive Therapy Unit work tirelessly to rehabilitate the patient as far as possible; their handover instructions are enough for one to understand their interest and enthusiasm when they take over the responsibility of a patient.

This begs the question of whether we do we appreciate this. This ward injects love for life and solidarity towards each other in the community. It instils in each and every one of us respect for the importance of health.

There are so many indirect lessons to be learnt from the experience we should not have to wait for a similar experience to appreciate; lessons which we should carry always with us and relate to others.

Life is short; do not waste it fighting. Ciao VAB.