When we walked through the gate of the Arab Al-Ahly Hospital-the closest to a job hospital that left in the north-we saw two buildings in Tan and a modern tower covered with solar panels. Most of its windows were rough with glass fragments. The Olaya was founded in 1882 by the Anglican missionaries. A 2011 renewal painting celebrated the auspices of the USA’s Grands for International Development constantly from new patients, and many of them were external pins that emerge from their arms or legs. A small church full of shrapnel damage was converted into a medical suite. Ezz led us to a small er, although the ceasefire was in energy. There were no ventilation devices, fibrillation, or IV pumps. I have returned two heart screens and eighteen families fastest narration. “Two observers of half a million people,” said Ezz. “incredible.”
Ezz presented me to Fadil Naim, which directs the facility. The hospital had a space for about fifty patients internally, but he was routinely interested in hundreds, so some sleep abroad. Nayem was the only orthopedic surgeon in the hospital, but he got assistance through training for who could. “I have a third -year medicine student who can now perform orthopedics,” he said.
Early conflict, Nayem called Ezz with terrible news. Ezz’s mother arrived at the Emergency Room. His grandparents were bombed. After the rescuers arrived, a second bomb exploded near. His mother survived, but twenty members of his family, including his father, brother, Jeddah, and his sister’s daughter, were killed. “Some of them are still buried under the rubble,” I told me.
Many houses in the Beit Lahia, in the northern part of Gaza, were not simply damaged but were settled. The Indonesian Hospital, a four -storey building, was one of the few structures in the vicinity, although, as stated. Birds start from a pile of rubble to another; I heard what was most likely an explosive bomb exploding at the distance. Marwan Sultan, a cardiologist and hospital director, led us through the dark corridors, and his white coat is escalating behind.
ER only remained operation. Sultan said that the doctors performed neurosurgery on the dental chair on the ground. Outside, I showed me the debris of many generators and the oxygen plant. He said that the Israeli forces “destroyed my hospital lungs.” I saw a hole on the side of the building, where he said that the tank was driving across the wall. In the hospital yard, there were signs of a grave made of ceiling tiles. A spokesman for the IDF said that weapons and tunnels were found in the facility.
Sultan led me to the upper floor, to the intensive care unit, where the wind exploded through the broken windows. He wanted to show me something he discovered after the Israeli forces left the hospital. He referred to observing the heart near the wall. He seems to have a bullet hole in his screen. Next to it was the EKG machine that was destroyed.
We entered a large storage room in the angle of the intensive care unit that was covered with medical devices: ultrasound machines, IV pumps, dialysis machines, and blood pressure screens. Each of them appears to have been destroyed by a bullet – not in a pattern that one expects from random fire, but rather systematically. I was surprised. I could not think of any possible military justifications for destroying life rescue equipment. When I asked the Israeli Defense Army to comment, the spokesman said, “It claims that the Israeli Defense Army intentionally targets that medical equipment is unambiguously wrong.”
The ceasefire in Gaza continued in the end, in the end, only two months. In February, I returned to the United States on March 2, Israel prevented all humanitarian aid, including medical supplies, from entering Gaza, in an attempt to pressure Hamas to accept the revised ceasefire conditions. On the night of March 18, she resumed the bombing campaign. By morning, more than four hundred people were killed, according to the Ministry of Health in Gaza. Ezz told me in a text close to patients in the north, and he quickly had a very large number of patients and a very few supplies to treat them. “Every day we face impossible options,” he wrote. Last week, the Israeli Defense Army warned the high medical staff against evacuating patients; Twenty minutes later, the emergency department missed and destroyed the genetics laboratory. The Israeli Defense Army said that Hamas was working there, which the group is thinking.
When the bombs began to fall in Khan Yunis, Fayrouz Sidah, an American shock surgeon who was in Gaza before, was in Nasser Hospital, and he was sleeping in the same room where she remained. I knew him from a group chat for health care workers who went in medical tasks like me. Sidhwa, a brothel with short hair, woke up when the pressure wave of the door explosion blew open. He rushed to Er
In the following hours, two hundred and twenty people were brought to the hospital. Soon the death of ninety -two was announced. Sidhwa search for patients who need emergency surgery. “It was chaos,” he said. “The rooms were full of children dying on the floor, bleeding, screaming, crying.” Some patients were alive, but after saving with the hospital’s limited resources. Sidoa saw many children with severe injuries in the brain. The hospital had no neurosurgery, so there was little that could be done for them. After evaluating a little girl, she pointed her relative to a specific part of ER, where patients who die were sent. He recalls, “He took her and took her there, and only stays with her.”
The next patient, who was evaluating a five -year -old girl, had chest, abdomen and head. ER, who was empty when I visited, in January, was so crowded with patients to the point that he could not push her to the journey scanner. Instead, pick it up and carry it. Her tests indicated that her brain injuries were survived, so she carried her to the operating room and fixed her inner abdominal injuries. (After five days, she was talking again.)
He began to treat a hole the size of the tennis ball in the back of the woman, the other patient aorta, and a five -year -old boy who was sprayed entirely with shrapnel, causing a heart attack. A fellow of Sidaha opened the boy’s chest as if he were blocked and sew holes in the ventricles from his heart. The colleague re -started the boy’s heart by injecting the ibenifrin in it, and together they fixed the damage to the liver, the diaphragm, the colon, the stomach, and the kidneys. Despite their efforts, the boy died.
Sidaoua said that one of his last patients that night was a sixteen -year -old boy named Ibrahim, who was injured by shrapnel. Sidhwa sewed the boy’s straight and created a gap – a hole out of the abdomen – to allow wiping the digestive system to recover. Ibrahim was black and delicate poetry of malnutrition. He was expected to recover completely. The boy’s father seemed to know only two words in English – “Thank you” – and he continued to repeat them. “It was sweet,” Sirwa told me.
After five days, Ibrahim was almost ready to send him home. That afternoon, Sidhwa was on his way to verify him when a colleague reported him. While they were discussing a patient, the hospital exploded. The Palestinian Master colleagues pulled him away from the windows; The building was hit. The Israeli Defense Army later said the strike targeted a major political leader in Hamas named Ismail Barhoum. A spokesman for Barhoum claimed “in the hospital to commit terrorism.” Sidoa described this claim “ridiculous.” Sidhoum told me that Barhoum is linked to Abraham, so they received a medical treatment in the same room. He said: “He was injured and here was sick.” “I tell you this as an eyewitness.”
After the attack, Sidhwa raced again to ER, “We did not know whether the Israelis went to the hospital, or bombed it again,” he told me. In the end, many men rushed, carrying a teenage boy in a bed sheet. They brought it to the shock bay and put it on my neighbor. When Sidoh drew the paper, he was shocked. The patient’s abdomen was torn and the intestine was leaking. Abraham was, and he died. ♦
