Philippe Labro: "France admires and applauds the guardian angels of our fragility"

To have lived, exactly twenty-four years ago, a "crossing" in resuscitation, an intubation, an artificial coma, ten days and nights of pain - all that, at the moment, people are undergoing - creates a feeling of intense solidarity. Admittedly, the disease was not the same, but the health process was equivalent, except that everything has changed: instruments, accessories, the hospital has been considerably modernized. But the violence of the event is equal.

You are a prisoner. Time and space have lost all normality, there is only the flow of the unconscious, the comings and goings of nightmares in your besieged brain. I can still see at my bedside, in Cochin, an anesthesiologist with green eyes, telling me, before the injection:

- We'll send you deep.

Depth is an invasion of images. For example, a continuous flow of a sort of lava of orange and purple color which pours towards me, as if to engulf me in its mysterious movement. But suddenly

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