The silence of the nurses on the signs

 The silence of the nurses on the signs. When I was a kid, every time I had to get a shot, they would take me to a neighborhood health clinic (salita de fomento), or at least that's what it was called; you joined as a member and got that benefit. I'm talking about the 1980s. Today, I think they don't even exist anymore; perhaps they still survive in isolated populations, but in large cities you don't see them, or at least that's how it seems to me. Health insurance plans (obras sociales), prepaid medicine, private clinics, plus national campaigns and public hospitals have made them—at least in big cities—almost unnecessary, or perhaps necessary but unseen. Still, what I'm saying doesn't fully convince me, because I think about low-income sectors that don't have many options to choose from. Well, but the point I'm getting to is different: I remember that old clinic, and also some clinics in the city, and something you could see in all of them were the signs of the nurse signaling for silence. These framed signs, I remember all or practically all of them (the ones I saw in various places) being large, in black and white, always with the same face of a young nurse with a cap and a red cross, with her finger telling people to be quiet. It feels to me like these signs I'm talking about were from the 50s or 60s, and maybe even earlier, from the 40s, but that's just an assumption because I don't have data to confirm it or not. They were always placed in strategic locations where everyone could see them: up high, in the middle of the waiting room, or above mandatory passageway doors (for example, to doctor's offices, inpatient wards, etc.). I searched the internet to see if I could find one of those framed pictures, but I barely found two that resemble them, though they are somewhat far from the ones I'm talking about. Today that has changed; today the signs are barely there. Recently, I've had the opportunity to be in no less than three healthcare centers (sanatorios), and at the last one I visited, which was today (February 2007), I took pictures of them. Today's signs, which are more modern, are barely visible; they are small, showing only the finger and the mouth telling people to be quiet; on another one you can tell it's a nurse by the cap, she doesn't even have a face. They are not in strategic locations; I saw one in the back on a wall and the other on a door. This last one seemed well-placed since it was a door that is never left open, except that the door was in a location where no one could see it and the sign was the smallest of all. Aside from all this, people no longer have respect even in a place like a clinic. Making the minimum intellectual effort, just using common sense—even those who can barely write their name—it is known that a clinic/sanatorium/hospital is a place where sick people go, people who suffer or have suffered damage to their health; it is a place where the people who need that place the most are in inferior conditions compared to those of us who are healthy. So the question is: why isn't silence respected? What are those signs for? Are they just for decoration? Are they there to brighten up the room? Are they there to annoy the patients' relatives? No, no, gentlemen, they are there for a much higher reason that contributes to the well-being of the patients and the better functioning of the institution, whether large or small. Thank God I didn't see anyone smoking like a fool; that sign is respected more, at least within the healthcare setting. However, out of about ten people present, in less than an hour, no fewer than three had their cell phones ring more than once. The topic of people "zombie-fied" by cell phones is for another occasion, but don't you have the brains to turn it off when you walk into a clinic/sanatorium/hospital? Do you have to be so attached to your cell phone that you have to leave the volume on? If you don't want to turn it off, can't you put it on light, vibrate, or silent/flashing mode? They aren't even capable of turning down the volume. In other words, these people I'm talking about do have other options; what they lack is the willingness to use them, what they lack is respect for others. But I saw this happening in the waiting rooms of clinics and hospitals. For one reason or another (around 2014), I had the opportunity to be in no less than four public hospitals and no less than seven private clinics. And I must say, some silence is respected in the waiting rooms of intensive care units, or for visits to intensive care units as well. In the rest—waiting rooms for any other consultation, serious or non-serious—this has changed radically. In some places, they play background music; in others, televisions with high volume (because of the elderly? due to hearing problems? out of the administrative staff's whim or habit?). Added to this is the natural conversation between people, but in loud voices, plus the inevitable noise of cell phones, either when they ring, when people play games, or when they type to write. And what became of silence? It has grown smaller and smaller, announced, requested, almost fearfully on signs that are increasingly tiny and hidden.

Originally published on 07-05-2007