Humans are remarkably adaptable creatures. The key is learning to respond wisely.
En los meses de confinamiento, millones de personas descubrieron que la ansiedad colectiva y la disolución de las rutinas cotidianas les robaban horas de sueño que el cuerpo necesita para sobrevivir. Patricia Basurto, médica de la Universidad Norbert Wiener, observó cómo dormir menos de seis horas se convertía en una norma silenciosa con consecuencias graves: enfermedades cardiovasculares, hipertensión, diabetes. Su respuesta no fue una advertencia sino una invitación: los seres humanos son criaturas adaptables, y proteger el sueño es, en el fondo, un acto de preservación propia.
- El aislamiento borró los límites entre el trabajo y el hogar, y la ansiedad pandémica se instaló en las horas que antes pertenecían al descanso.
- Dormir menos de seis horas de manera crónica no es solo cansancio: abre la puerta a arritmias, presión alta y diabetes, una cadena de daños que se acumula en silencio.
- Las pantallas y las redes sociales se convirtieron en los principales enemigos del sueño, manteniendo el cerebro alerta con luz artificial y un flujo interminable de noticias alarmantes.
- La experta propone intervenciones concretas: desconectarse de dispositivos antes de dormir, reemplazar las noticias por una comedia, y reconstruir rutinas diarias que le devuelvan al cuerpo su ritmo natural.
- La alimentación también entra en juego: el alcohol deteriora el sueño profundo, mientras que alimentos ricos en magnesio, zinc y omega-3 refuerzan los mecanismos naturales del descanso.
Durante los meses de confinamiento, muchas personas comenzaron a dormir menos de seis horas por noche, muy por debajo de las siete a nueve horas que los médicos consideran necesarias. La causa no era un misterio: la avalancha de noticias sobre el coronavirus, la mezcla entre vida laboral y doméstica, y una ansiedad constante ante un futuro incierto habían colonizado las horas del sueño.
Patricia Basurto, directora de la escuela de medicina humana de la Universidad Norbert Wiener, vio emerger este patrón en sus pacientes. Las consecuencias eran serias: la privación crónica de sueño favorece problemas cardiovasculares, hipertensión y diabetes. Aun así, Basurto sostenía una convicción fundamental: los seres humanos son capaces de adaptarse, siempre que aprendan a responder al estrés con inteligencia en lugar de rendirse ante él.
Su primera recomendación exigía disciplina: dejar el teléfono antes de acostarse. Las pantallas engañan al cerebro haciéndole creer que aún es de día, y el contenido que ofrecen —especialmente en tiempos de pandemia— activa la ansiedad en lugar de calmarla. En su lugar, sugería llenar ese tiempo previo al sueño con algo que aquietara la mente: una comedia, una lectura ligera, cualquier cosa que invitara a la risa en vez de a la preocupación.
La rutina, advirtió Basurto, importa más de lo que la gente cree. El confinamiento había disuelto la estructura natural del día, y era necesario reconstruirla de forma deliberada: horarios fijos para el ejercicio, actividades que nutran en lugar de adormecer, límites claros que le devuelvan al cuerpo su ritmo. Cuando el organismo sabe qué esperar, el sueño llega con mayor naturalidad.
Lo que se consume antes de dormir también define la calidad del descanso. El alcohol, aunque parece facilitar el sueño, impide las fases profundas y reparadoras, dejando a la persona más agotada al despertar. Mejores aliados son los alimentos ricos en magnesio y zinc —como el yogur o el queso fresco— y los que contienen omega-3. Pequeñas estructuras, elegidas con cuidado, pueden hacer lo que la fuerza de voluntad sola no logra: devolver el sueño a quienes lo han perdido.
Most people are sleeping less than they should. In the months of lockdown and isolation, many found themselves getting fewer than six hours of sleep each night—well below the seven to nine hours that doctors recommend for basic health. The culprit was not mysterious: the constant stream of coronavirus news, the blur between home and work, the ambient anxiety that came with uncertainty about when normal life might return.
Patricia Basurto, who directs the school of human medicine at Norbert Wiener University, watched this pattern emerge across her patient population. The consequences were not minor. Sleep deprivation, she explained, opens the door to serious cardiovascular problems—irregular heartbeats, high blood pressure, diabetes. Beyond the physical toll, chronic poor sleep breeds harmful habits that compound the damage. Yet Basurto also held to a conviction: humans are remarkably adaptable creatures. The key was learning to respond wisely to the stress, not surrendering to it.
Her first recommendation was simple but required discipline. Stop checking your phone before bed. The screens themselves are part of the problem—the light they emit tricks your brain into thinking it is still daytime, keeping your mind alert when it should be winding down. But the content matters too. Social media feeds during a pandemic are overwhelmingly negative, a constant drip of alarming headlines that activate anxiety rather than calm it. Disconnecting from devices an hour or so before sleep is not deprivation; it is protection.
Instead of the news, Basurto suggested filling that pre-sleep time with gentler input. Watch a comedy. Read something light. The goal is to quiet the mind's tendency to spiral into worry. Anxiety before bed is the enemy of sleep, and deliberately choosing something that makes you laugh or feel at ease is a direct intervention against it.
Routine matters more than most people realize. During lockdown, the normal structure of the day—the commute, the office, the clear boundary between work and home—had dissolved. Basurto advised rebuilding that structure intentionally. Set regular times for physical activity. Read. Engage in activities that feel nourishing rather than numbing. When the body knows what to expect each day, sleep comes more naturally. The rhythm itself becomes a kind of medicine.
What you consume in the hours before sleep also shapes what happens when you close your eyes. Alcohol, despite its reputation as a sleep aid, actually degrades sleep quality. It may help you fall asleep faster, but it prevents the deep, restorative sleep your body needs. You wake up more exhausted than if you had simply stayed awake. Better choices exist: foods rich in magnesium and zinc—yogurt, fresh cheese—or those containing omega-3 fatty acids like certain fish. These foods support the body's natural sleep mechanisms rather than fighting against them.
The pandemic forced millions into a kind of involuntary experiment with their own sleep. What Basurto's advice amounts to is a recognition that you cannot simply will yourself to sleep better when everything around you is designed to keep you awake and afraid. Instead, you build small structures—no screens, a comedy instead of the news, a walk during the day, the right foods at dinner—and let those structures do the work. Sleep, in this reading, is not a luxury or a sign of laziness. It is a basic requirement for survival, and protecting it is an act of self-preservation.
Notable Quotes
Sleep deprivation can cause cardiovascular problems, irregular heartbeats, high blood pressure, and diabetes, and it triggers harmful habits that damage the body.— Patricia Basurto, director of the school of human medicine at Norbert Wiener University
Humans have a remarkable capacity for adaptation, so it is necessary to respond in the best way possible to these kinds of situations.— Patricia Basurto
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does the light from a phone actually matter so much? Couldn't someone just ignore what they're reading and fall asleep anyway?
The light itself is the issue—it's a biological signal. Your brain reads that blue light and thinks it's still daytime. Your body stops producing melatonin, the hormone that makes sleep possible. It's not about willpower. It's about how your nervous system interprets the environment.
So the news content is separate from that problem?
Partly. The light is one layer. But yes, the content itself activates your stress response. You read something frightening about the pandemic, your cortisol rises, your mind starts working through worst-case scenarios. You're now physiologically primed to stay alert. The light and the fear work together.
If someone is already anxious about real things—job loss, illness—can a comedy really help?
Not by making the anxiety disappear. But it interrupts the loop. Your brain can't simultaneously process a genuine threat and find something funny. You're giving it something else to do for an hour. That break matters. It's not denial; it's strategic rest.
What about the routine part? Why does that work if the stress is still there?
Routine is predictability. When your body knows what comes next—exercise at this time, work at that time, sleep at this time—it can prepare. Your nervous system settles. You're not fighting against chaos; you're creating a small island of order. That matters more than you'd think.
And the food—is that really significant, or just a bonus?
It's significant. Magnesium and zinc are actual nutrients your body needs to produce the chemicals that enable sleep. You're not just eating well; you're providing the raw materials your brain requires. It's not magic, but it's not nothing either.