The Maisonneuve-Rosemont hospital is no longer a care center: it is a symbol of what becomes a state when it ceases to see, to hear, to feel. A fortune hospital, a lair of critters and shame, in one of the most populous districts of Montreal.
After having relegated its repair to the Greek calendars, the government is falling off. He backs up on his hindsight. Not by sense of duty. Not because overwhelming reports were wrapped. Not because doctors, unions, patients or professionals have been begging for years that they can be heard.
Decline
No. What forced the government to get out of its ethical coma is anger. The raw, indignant, contagious anger. That of the voter. That of the opposition parties. That of unions, columnists, citizens. That of a people who, by dint of being treated as a second -class citizen, ended up being heard.
Let’s be clear: without the images broadcast by Yves Poirier – a denture infested with ants, moldy ceilings, moribund ventilation -, nothing would have moved. If the caregivers had not braved silence to denounce what is happening behind the walls of this hospital, nothing would have happened. If the opposition parties did not, every day, tirelessly hammered the absurdity of this decision, one would still be to climb water leaks with tape.
Fatigue
What if Quebec had not shouted, with one voice, its indignation in the face of this treatment reserved east of the metropolis? Radio silence.
Let’s be honest: the government counted on breathlessness. On media fatigue. On Trump, on the federal campaign, on anything else so that we forget. So that bats in care rooms and ants in dentiers become a standard. Another Quebec incongruity that we end up tolerating.
But this time, no. The government has folded. No merit. No bravo. Just a reminder: anger is sometimes the only language that power understands.
