close-up of Fabio

I'm Fabio, I'm thirty-five years old.

I am a radiology technician at the Annunziata hospital in Cosenza. I work like colleagues without spending many words, on the front line, face to face with the virus.

I live between work and home.

When I get out I'm afraid to open the front door. I am afraid of infecting mine, who are today my life and my hope.

It is a bad feeling to think that you are infecting your own life and hope, and then because of a job that seems so necessary to me, so important for the good of others.

Can the good of others really be so dangerous?

I am from the South and in the South they taught me that when there is a need you have to help. Don't ask, do. It helps.

So in this period I do.

There is one good thing, however, in these bad days: among colleagues we have united a lot. Never as before. And this new, more accomplice union in the end makes me love my job even more.

Primo Levi wrote that Loving one's work (which unfortunately is the privilege of a few) is the best concrete approximation to happiness on earth.

Then maybe I'm a privileged one. And maybe I am approximating to happiness. Or to tranquility at least. Which is a rare commodity these days.

I let the music help me in this. Especially from Vasco. Which perhaps after Primo Levi may seem a less noble reference.

But he is my real therapist. At home when I get back I throw myself on the bed, close my eyes and listen. With one breath I throw the day out and fill myself with meaning.

That's when I realize I'm lucky after all. I think of those who do not have a job or, even worse, know that they will probably lose it. 

To love your work is to love yourself.

And I am grateful for this love today.

"To love your work is to love yourself." Fabio last edit: 2020-05-21T17:00:00+02:00 da Staff

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