My day at the hospital
This is what beyond catastrophic looks like in the emergency department of a hospital in Gaza.
We're been forced to do things we never imagined; just to survive, and to help. And yes, I’m certain; you can do better than what You're doing now. Last night, I went to sleep with my heart crying and my mind aching. After just three hours of rest, I got up and went back to work, knowing the day ahead wouldn’t be any easier. But I also knew this: I will always rise.
Good morning. I just treated a young man who was shot in the leg by Israeli occupation forces while he was on his way to collect his food parcel from the American forces in Rafah. He said he had walked all the way from Rafah to Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital. That's a very long distance even by car; let alone on foot, and while wounded. When I asked him what had happened, he told me they were shot at for no reason, "as if we were sheep," in his own words. He said they had to run in every direction, trying to escape.
The Arabs once said that blood will never turn into water. But it has; it has become water, more abundant and expendable than water itself. There can be no such thing as a good morning while our blood is being spilled. Once again, dozens of starving civilians have been shot; and are still being shot, in the American death traps, leaving behind countless martyrs and wounded.
A middle-aged woman, on her way to collect a food parcel, ended up on an ER bed before my shift ended; shot in the back and chest. She was rushed into surgery. I still don't know if she made it. Yesterday, many families arrived at the ER suffering from food poisoning; forced to eat spoiled food.
Some diabetic patients came in with dangerously low blood sugar, a life-threatening condition. Others, elderly and frail, were suffering from severe dehydration. One of them was a cancer patient. Young children were brought in with burns from boiling oil after a chaotic scramble for charity food. Other starving children, were admitted with critical injuries. Most suffered from brain hemorrhages; some were already in a state of brain death. Their parents stood nearby, weeping, praying to have them back.
This morning, I saw two children near the hospital. One of them bought a single falafel to have for breakfast and ate it immediately as soon as the man handed it to him. The other bought two, and wrapped them in a piece of paper. I had some money with me, so I bought them more. Their reaction was as if they had received something precious!
Right now, in the middle of the night, the hospital is receiving new injuries; civilians shot while trying to reach the aid.
This morning, a family dug a grave for their son; martyred after waking up hungry and trying to collect a food parcel. He had survived genocide for 20 months, only to die today because he was hungry. A group of young men walked toward a distribution point, unbothered by the danger. When someone warned them, "They`re shooting people there. They simply replied: "What God has written will be.”
Mahmoud Darwish once said: "We've bled so much, we no longer remember the color of blood.”
This is an occupation that doesn't want the genocide to end. Wants children to die starving. It wants mothers to sacrifice themselves, just to feed their babies. Meanwhile, the occupation finds ever more cruel ways to deepen suffering; even hiring gangs to steal what little aid enters Gaza, just to ensure hunger never stops. And America failed, complicit, terrorist, still believes this entity deserves to exist, even if it's built atop our corpses.. and the corpses of our children.
America is a terrorist state. It is my enemy; the one that keeps vetoing my right to exist. If I had the power, would veto its right to exist above the suffering creates. Because America is not just complicit in terror; America is terrorism. Since 1948, the U.S. has denied us both freedom and flour; and called it diplomacy. Why does injustice get to live a hundred lifetimes, while the oppressed are barely allowed one? Why is injustice sustained for ages, while the oppressed are denied even a scrap of bread when hungry?
Um Zainab told me that during the bombing of the hospital rooftop, doctors were changing Zainab's inflamed wound. Smoke and dust filled the air, and her wound was left exposed for minutes; at risk of a worse infection. She later shared how hard it is to afford diapers for her. I promised to bring her a full pack from my family. Thanks to your kindness Zainab received $3,600 in support.
Will this genocide ever end? Could everything suddenly stop; just as suddenly as it began, without us having already ended forever? We will never be normal again, but that would still be more merciful than waiting for death. Survival itself is a miracle. But isn't it time for another miracle, one that puts an end to this madness? Isn't it time for the world, and its leaders, to stand together; "as one, and bring this madness to an end? After all, this is why they were chosen to lead: to make the world a better place, not one where children are deliberately starved to death.
