Anthony Tschiegg is not what we can call a “first line” but he contributed in his own way to this frantic fight against covid19. He took his share of the burden. By relieving that of others. That of the caregivers of the Emile Muller hospital in Mulhouse. He has broad shoulders, but sometimes he has not slept. “When death lurks so strongly, the patient and the caregiver, and also the caregiver of the caregiver, all are on the same line.” The front line.
I prefer to warn you right away, as I did for that matter: Anthony Tschiegg is sometimes difficult to follow. He is “a shaman” I was whispered in my ear. And it’s true that listening to it, you get carried away. Or? I cannot tell you exactly. Elsewhere it will suffice. Her voice is soft but her words are difficult. He launches into circumvolutive sentences which envelop me and confuse me. I often stop him to ask for clarification. That destabilizes him, I feel it. He hesitates. Sputters a bit. I keep him on the floor of the cows, he whose thoughts are high. Its nebulae. Bridles.
Listening to the body
Anthony Tschiegg has been an osteopath for 20 years in Mulhouse. He is, in his field, and even if he will not like it, a size. Osteopath of swimmers MON (Mulhouse Olympic swimming) from 2000 to 2004. And for the less experienced, co-author of Backache for dummies. A profession in his image. Unorthodox. Halfway between medical science and the softer one of listening.
“As far as I’m concerned, we can talk about vocation, yes. I lost my mother at the age of 20. At that time, I thought I understood the mechanism of pain. Despite the difficulty of situation, I felt that something positive would come out of this loss. Resilience. I was going to help people overcome this kind of pain. My way. “A trip to Asia as a teenager will shape his mind and its practice. Holistic. Where body and psyche are intimately linked.
I lost my mother at the age of 20. At that time, I thought I understood the mechanism of pain.
-Anthony Tschiegg-
“For me, medicine and physiotherapy were too classic. I did not fit into this framework. I was looking for a more global approach where very technical anatomy, physiology and dissection mingle with listening to the body, let’s say more fluidistic.” Anthony Tschiegg then turned to osteopathy. Six years of study in Paris in a private school founded by Pierre Hammond whose “philosophy” resembles him. He then moved to Mulhouse, his hometown. Son of a jeweler, he will make the gold of his fingers bear fruit.
In his office, he practices mild osteopathy “even with the beefy”. Work on the viscera and fascia, the membranes that surround the muscles. “The body continually undergoes external aggressions: postures, stress, shocks. As the body compensates compensates compensates up to a certain threshold. Once this threshold of adaptability is reached, it hurts. For example, a The blocked small intestine can have consequences on the lower back. Pain is always the submerged part of the iceberg. Emotions largely explain mechanical pain. “So Anthony Tschiegg palpates those who have their backs full. Relax those with a lump in their throat. Relieves the greens of rage. “I go part of the way, the other is the body that does it. When you come out of my office, you have big aches.”
A timeless bubble
With the start of confinement, Anthony closes his cabinet “except for major emergencies.” Very quickly this idleness weighs on him. “I told myself that it was not logical to do nothing, that I could bring my stone to the building. The assistance to the effort then, in a second time, the release of tensions must be able to be useful to healthcare staff. “The osteopath uses his knowledge network to be able to get his hands dirty, broken. “The GHR was then setting up a support cell, I volunteered. It was a bit long to set up but it is normal, it was not the priority. “
The old pediatric hospital surgery Emile Muller is redeveloped thanks to donations. It is there, on the second floor, in a Zen atmosphere, that the nursing staff can now let go. And, if possible, be repaired, a little. Four treatment rooms are available. Psychologists, relaxologists, physiotherapists and osteopaths, all volunteers, are there to welcome them. Anthony Tschiegg will be one of them.
“When I arrived the first day, the 1er April I think, I immediately took the measure of the thing. Everything was silent, drained of life because inaccessible to the public. Weighing. “Anthony asked to see the resuscitation services to understand the ailments which he will relieve the caregivers.” It was important for me. It is unimaginable what was going on in these services, very hard. One of my patients described the situation to me. He who had made Iraq and Bosnia with the Red Cross, he said to me: there, it is yet another degree. It is the horror that goes into everyday life, that turns everything upside down. “
1er April, Anthony will not sleep through the night.
War stigma
The support unit receives 150 carers per day. From morning until late evening for the guard staff. 30 minute sessions. With his soft hands and voice, Anthony will take care of the one who can no longer care. “Stretcher bearers, doctors, nurses, members of management, they are all dented. It is complicated for everyone.” Anthony wears a mask but no gloves. To touch the pain, to understand it, you don’t need an intermediary, no matter how fine. “Many have back pain, it’s mechanical, they have been in great demand. Neck, trapezius, cervical, back. From what I can see, they held steady with crazy resistance. Everyone is still standing with stigmas worthy of a war field. “
Mechanical, physical pain, but not only. Because in the privacy of the small room, out of time and its frenzy, like any muscles, languages unravel. Speech becomes free. “I saw a very great mental suffering. Very quickly, they start to speak. Many of them for reasons of modesty did not want to see a shrink however also present within our cell. they feel confident. I touch them, it brings them together. I touch them, I listen to them. “
I saw a very great mental suffering
-Anthony Tschiegg-
“They tell me what they see, the fear they feel for them and for their loved ones.” So Anthony takes on all his suffering. “You know empathy can be heavy. But when I see this recognition in their eyes, it counterbalances everything. Because I, too, who am in direct contact, without gloves, with these caregivers, some of whom are affected by the covid, I fear. But my desire to help them was strongest. I knew that I liked people and that comforted me in there. Beyond the risk which I took every day. “
Post-trauma?
This support unit for professionals also aims to prepare for the aftermath. Not the deconfinement no. The return to normal. In the services, in the daily life of all these caregivers. “There is a strong risk of decompensation afterwards, for sure. We with our words, our gestures, we are already trying to avoid the ON / OFF. When everything stops, we finally have time to think and that everything comes back at once. Faced with this risk, some will continue to live normally without trying to stir it up. Others will collapse. We are not all connected in the same way to our nervous system. can be violent. “
There is a strong risk of decompensation after it is certain
-Anthony Tschiegg-
It has therefore already been decided that the support unit will continue until the end of the year. Or even beyond. Maybe even definitively. “I decided to devote three half-days a week to it until December. We are doing essential work there.” Anthony Tschiegg, the elusive, got caught in the chain of a vast chain. Vital. “I felt this feeling of belonging to a human chain, subject to the same rules of life and death. Everyone can be affected by the disease. We are all equal in the face of death. I felt brought back to rank of human being, on an equal footing with my contemporaries. ” The demiurge osteopath has fizzled. “Me in my office, I am alone facing the universe. And suddenly, facing the covid, we were all there. It put me in my place, no doubt, facing life and death . ” Anthony Tschiegg sighs.
It is on this parable that we leave. It’s good, she looks like him. Understand who will. What I will remember is that this disease, so sudden, so violent, has brought into the hospital disciplines that until then had no place. Less academic, of course, but no less useful. What I will also remember, more broadly, is that this disease has made us, small self-centered individuals, dried up by two months of confinement, a community of destinies.
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