José María Atienza Borge

If it were possible to condense each and every one of the applauses that have flooded the streets since the confinement began,

If it were at our fingertips to merge them into a single sequence of tribute and endless thanks to our sanitarians,

We would still miss the odd clapping to cheer people like you.

From the calm and tiring applause of the eighty-year-old woman who has come out every evening at eight, always on time, to the little balcony of your house, even the clapping of the immigrant without papers who sees how his health worsens when the sun goes down thinking about his absent family.

Or from the young teenager who has suffered the onslaught of his first anxiety crisis, even the single woman who tries to help her two children.

All of us have packed your consultation during the time you were our doctor. Always patiently waiting for our turn to come because we knew that your way of serving us was unique and special. You made us feel like home, we trusted your know-how and you never spared a minute of your time with us.

Dedicated to Manuel G., family doctor who died in Madrid due to Covid-19.