Day 5: The last 24
We make it to the Base. It’s our 50th straight hour of work. To say the least, we’re tired. At the front, your body never truly relaxes. You run on little sleep, little food, and often don’t have running water. Explosions are so frequent, they become nothing different than as if it were an annoying bird chirping out your window. The noise is loud and constant. But there’s nothing you can do about it, so you try to ignore it.
1905 and another explosion rings out. Something flies overhead and another explosion is heard in the distance.
It’s 2100. We get dispatched to the stabilization point. They were overloaded with patients so we jump in to help. I go to lift a soldier’s leg and my hand immediately slips into his ankle. A chunk of skin is missing and a hole is present where his Achilles tendon should have been.
We finish helping at the stabilization point and successfully transport patients to the hospital. We start heading back to the Base. En route, we’re told to put our helmets on. It means there’s something flying above us. As we arrive to the Base, we’re told to run inside. Two explosions ring out on our right as we run to “safety”. They immediately shut the door behind us. We make it inside. I sit on my cot and try to rest.
Four more explosions over the next four minutes. It’s 2312.
2319 and something flies over us. Six or seven more explosions ring out back-to-back. “нічого собі” (wow) one of the girls shouts in awe.
Another seven explosions before midnight. We’re all exhausted. But like a bird out your window, there’s nothing you can do. You sit and hope that the explosions don’t find you.
Our 72-hour shift comes to an end.
Leaving Home
Before I left the US for Ukraine, I had a lot of people question my decision to come. Some called me crazy, some said I was delusional. But one friend was different: she told me not to listen to them, and to listen to what I felt was right for me. She said, “you just need to be around like-minded people. And maybe that means being there. Not everyone here will understand why you want to put yourself in danger to help others. But people there will.” And she was right.
Many still don’t understand why anyone would risk their own life to help others. But when you’re with like-minded people, you know you are in good hands because you are with a group of people that will risk their life to save others.
I’ve been in healthcare since 2013 working mainly on the ambulance or in hospitals. When I found the opportunity to help in Ukraine, I knew I had to leave home. Since being in Ukraine, I’ve had the opportunity to meet and speak with some incredible people. They have taught me the importance of family, friendship, and community. Many have lost not only their homes and jobs, but family members and friends due to Russian aggression. However, since being in Ukraine, I’ve seen first-hand the strength, hospitality, and genuine kindness of the Ukrainian people. And it’s their kindness that reminds me of why I risk my life to help others.
I am truly grateful to all my friends and family who made my journey at the front possible. In particular, my friend Olga, who has supported me from the start and Angels for Ukraine for setting it up.
From Angels for Ukraine Fundraising Team:
Our volunteer teams risk their lives to transport wounded civilians and soldiers to safety.
Please donate now through our secure payment system on the donation page to help us continue this vital work. Every contribution matters.
Thank you for standing with Ukraine!
