Safe, protected but cut off from their families: life in Madrid care home

For almost a month now, the 94 residents of Las Praderas, a care home for elderly people in Pozuelo de Alarcón near Madrid, have been in lockdown, cut off from the outside world but for the odd Skype call to their families.

To meet them, to talk to them and to take their pictures, you need special permission from the home’s owners – and, as importantly, a protective suit, a face mask, gloves and a host of other precautions.

The protective measures are sorely needed. On Wednesday, Madrid’s regional government said that 4,260 people in care homes in and around the capital had died from the coronavirus or while showing associated symptoms since 8 March.

The normal monthly death toll in homes in the area is around 1,000 people, showing the scale of the coronavirus outbreak taking on some of the most vulnerable people in Spain.

In Las Praderas, however, there have been no deaths from the virus.

Residents stay in their rooms at all times and corridors and communal areas are out of bounds for as long as the state of emergency, declared on 14 March, remains in force.

It also means there will be none of the usual Holy Week masses said by the parish priest of the nearby church of Santa María de Caná.

Rotas have been hastily drawn up and redrawn as the centre’s almost 40 staff work 12 to 13-hour days to cover the gaps left by colleagues who have gone off sick. Some have worked two weeks straight and personal protective equipment is carefully issued and logged.

Between them, they make sure their charges are fed, washed, taken to the toilet and kept neat and tidy. One of the workers’ newer – but equally vital – tasks is going from room to room with a tablet device so that residents can keep in touch with their families. It is painstakingly disinfected after each individual use.

In the corridors outside, efforts continue to keep the virus at bay. Five residents at the home have shown possible symptoms, but all were taken to hospital before the virus could spread. Las Praderas has also been disinfected twice by soldiers from the specialist Military Emergencies Unit.

Those who work there say every minute of the hard work has been worth it: the moment they open the door of a resident’s room, they are greeted with a smile and a few words of encouragement that help them push on.

As Carlos de la Torre – who is 92 and came to the home after breaking his hip 18 months ago – puts it: “This is much better than being in my own home; they look after me like I was their father, and that’s what makes it so special. In this home, we’re holding out like warriors and we have the lust for life of kids.”

But Daniel Agha Rodríguez, who runs the home, admits things are not easy. Many people in Las Praderas measure out their lives in family visits. For weeks now, there have been no hugs and no sunny walks in the garden.

Deprived of those sources of comfort and excitement, some are growing despondent.

The tension is never far away and everyone is painfully aware of how hard they must work to keep Covid-19 out of the home. A death, any death, would prove doubly devastating – there would be no family member to stay with them as they die, and no more than three relatives allowed to say goodbye at their graveside.

For now at least, life in the home seems like a beacon of hope shining onto a dark and miserable world.