Portal de Periódicos da CAPES

A Little Hope Amidst War

2008; Elsevier BV; Volume: 121; Issue: 9 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1016/j.amjmed.2008.05.032

1555-7162

Sayed K. Ali,

Health and Conflict Studies

Zahra is a 19-year-old, happy-go-lucky girl. Her perfect smile, bubbly eyes, and teenage shyness cannot hide the reality and fear that hide deep within her. Sitting in the confines of her 4 walls, leaning by the single window pane, she waves madly at us as some American soldiers and I enter the compound of her house. Unlike the other member of her household, she is unable to come outside and welcome us into her home. It all occurred on a horrible day in August of 2004. She was asleep in her cozy bed when an insurgent rocket aimed at an American facility went wrong and hit her house. The family tells us that among the chaos and yelling, it took awhile for them to realize what had occurred. It was not until all the dust and rubble had settled that they realized Zahra was in shock with both her legs missing. They rushed her to the nearest hospital, but her lower extremities were unsalvageable. Initially, when Zahra awoke in the hospital bed, she had no idea what had occurred. Slowly, as reality sank in and she realized that her extremities were missing, she cried for days asking to be left alone to her harsh, unfair fate. Three years after her tragedy, although she is frequently seen laughing, there is something hidden behind that laugh. If you dare to look deep into her hazel eyes you can sense the pain, the sorrow, and the questions that she yearns to ask but knows there are no answers. Our soldiers crossed paths with Zahra one night when they raided her house while following and tracking insurgents. In the wee hours of the morning with the commotion and noise, the soldiers found Zahra unconscious, her mother splashing water on her face with her fingertips trying to revive her. The next day, a few of the soldiers revisited the house to see how she was doing. On arrival, she fainted again. After a few more trips to her house, Zahra could finally stay awake, and although she took awhile to converse, she finally did, sounding as innocent as she looked. We did not realize the extent of Zahra's condition and disability until we were able to spend time with her and her family. The soldiers could not fathom such a fate for an innocent, beautiful person, and we as a team set out to help her at any cost. It took us awhile to make progress, but after many phone calls and e-mails I was introduced to Chris Cummings. Chris works at a prosthesis clinic within the International Zone in Baghdad, and his patients are mainly innocent Iraqi amputees, both children and adults injured during this war. Some of the medics and I accompanied Zahra to the clinic for an initial evaluation, and so began our long journey to getting her prosthesis. After many months of hard work, patience, frequent trips to the clinic, and Zahra's second surgical procedure to both her extremities to ensure a better fit, she finally received both her prostheses. All the waiting and worries of failing paid off when we first saw her using crutches to walk. When we drove her home, we had to wade through a crowd of people wanting to see Zahra walk. Both Zahra and her family looked ecstatic and spellbound. Maybe now she could finally lay her fears to rest and perhaps answer those unanswered questions that have been weighing her down for some time. Both Zahra and the soldiers of Patrol Base Assassin realize that it is far from over. Getting both the prostheses was the easy part, but the challenge remains the frequent therapy to strengthen her muscles and to perfect and stabilize her gait. At the patrol base, we have adapted our level one aid station to provide this crucial therapy to her. The day is not far when Zahra will be able to walk without any assistance and personally welcome us into her home. Finally, she will be able to smile with hope now that her biggest worry has been laid to rest—will I ever walk again! Zahra's tale is one of the many projects that I have embarked on during my time here in Iraq. Because of our limited resources, we can only do so much for the citizens of this country. One only hopes that as Iraq rebuilds again and as the health care system that once failed Zahra begins to take shape, other victims of this war such as Zahra will be able to share such hopeful stories. This article is dedicated to the soldiers of Patrol Base Assassin, Iraq, and to the phenomenal work they have done and continue to do every day for many long months. The patient's name has been changed to protect her privacy.