Hospitals: beyond fiction, how do we view a documentary series?

The creators of Emergency: Life and Death spent 21 days following the network of healthcare professionals providing trauma care in London. A city of 10 million inhabitants, a serious injury is recorded every 60 minutes. It's a feat, and a flawless one at that, is the conclusion drawn from this series. Between the call center, the on-site care professionals, and four hospitals, the "world's most advanced network" is a well-oiled machine that has allowed a 50% increase in survival rates.

In each episode, we follow two or three cases, ranging from several motorcycle accidents (I think if I'd owned a two-wheeler, I'd have put it up for sale on OLX by the end of the series), to workplace accidents, victims of assault, a fairground ride that breaks during a ride (a new fear unlocked), and a kid who ripped off a finger while jumping a school fence to skip class. Most of these cases are quite serious, with consequences ranging from amputation to death.

The narrative follows the event, from the 911 call, through the rescue, the monitoring of all medical care, including surgeries (I was close to receiving a scholarship several times, I won't lie), to the outcome of the case. All of this is interspersed with testimonies from family members, during and after the events, and from healthcare professionals. There's a call for dramatization when we see photographs and videos of patients in childhood, happy and jumping, when their lives are on a knife's edge. It is what it is, but for me, it immediately takes me to daytime content. It's not that I have microcement in place of a heart, especially because I was moved several times, particularly by the parents' suffering. But I see that they're blatantly manipulating me, and I don't like it.

[the trailer for “The Pitt”:]

I find conversations with healthcare professionals more relevant and meaningful, allowing us to get to know the more personal side of those who save lives, often thanks to traumatic events that happened in their own lives. The technology used is impressive, but for this girl who squeezes her eyes shut while drawing blood, seeing a surgery where they pop the lid off— pun intended —in neurosurgery, or the reconstruction of limbs with exposed fractures, or even the arm of a poor man who stuck his arm in a double-glazed window… It's not cool. And I confess I pressed skip many times during those moments. But for someone who loves these things, it's a real treat. Poor choice of words, it even made me cringe.

I'll also share a question that's stuck in my mind: who are these people who allowed themselves to be filmed in the most vulnerable state of their lives? I say this without criticism, applause for them. Especially because when I'm sick, I just want to silence my phone, not talk to anyone, and the only thing I don't say is play dead, because in the context, it seems in bad taste (I knocked on wood right after writing this sentence).

And now, let's get to the comparisons. In The Pitt, there are creatures of various types donning the lab coat, from the guy with a God complex to the emotional one, from the ambitious one to the one who treats the operating room like a video game, from the cuddly one to the boxy beast. In Emergencies: Life and Death , they all seem like solid Nobel Prize candidates. And that pushes me more toward fiction than reality, I confess. I'm not saying they aren't all gems of young men and women. I truly believe so. But, call me an old cynic, the world isn't usually like this, not to say it isn't. On the other hand, both formats left me slightly depressed, in light of our National Health Service, which, I must say, is one of the greatest achievements of democracy, deserves all my respect, and has saved my life a couple of times. It's inevitable to draw parallels between the panorama of The Pitt and the devastating scenario of so many emergency rooms in our country. Now, if we compare it to what we see in this London service... At one point, a paramedic says, "If you can treat a trauma patient in London, you can do it anywhere." With all due respect, I'd like him to try the Amadora-Sintra route.