Many got weary of my posts.
Fed up with reading them.
How much can one take?
I myself got tired of writing them.
But it’s not simply “how much can one take?” but “how much is needed”–a lot is needed, a lot.
The war’s in its sixth year.
Those who were infants when the first bombardments began will soon go to school. In the border areas, kids no longer even react to shelling but continue to play in the trenches.
And…information continues to flow.
For yet another time, I want to say that reposts work. Even simple likes work.
Very, very much.
And thanks to all those who, in spite of fatigue, don’t stop liking and reposting.
On more than one occasion, relatives were able to locate their family members from my posts.
And today I want to tell you one of these stories.
Do you remember Irina Grigoryevna? She came from Russia before the war (she lived in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatskiy) to visit daughter and grandson in Lugansk. Then the war started. Son in law died in a bombardment in August 2014 in Lugansk. The wife howled when she recognized the corpse. It is then that she withdrew into herself. They say “she lost her mind” and has been in a clinic ever since.
The grandmother was left alone with the grandson. She lost her documents during the shelling. Or maybe they were stolen–nobody knows.
She couldn’t return to Russia without documents, or obtain new documents.
So she couldn’t draw retirement or benefits.
Do you remember how I wrote in April about a truck full of humanitarian aid for the Donbass and a pile of diapers?
Adult diapers which were donated by the wonderful Inessa from Moscow. In that post, I am on a photo with scotch tape and a marker used to package the cargo.
After overcoming a range of delays and problems, the diapers are in LPR!
Zhenya delivered them where they are needed most.
The Kalinovo hospice.
Where is that?
Kalinovo is a town near Pervomaysk.
Fighting never stopped there. Artillery bombardments are a given for people who live there.
But just looks at the faces of the hospice workers)))
The story of two sisters from Lugansk living on their own has touched many. My friend went to buy them winter boots, a neighbor regularly send them money. One reader offered to fully pay for the older sister’s university education. In the sense that, if she’s admitted to one, to cover her expenses so that she wouldn’t need to work but only study. An Australian named Denis who doesn’t know the Russian language almost regularly helps them financially. He reads my blog through Google Translate(!). Our Boris from Kazan bought them a water heater to ensure they have hot water. We’ve all collected money to cover their utility debts from the past several years, including for the period they didn’t live at that address. Her mother lived there and amassed such debt that there always existed a threat of water and power cut-off.
I don’t know how I would have acted in their place. I’ve met few people in my life like them.
Alyona and Marina are one of a kind.
I haven’t written a long time about orphanages. What new is there to write?
First of all, LPR has functioning civil courts again. It means that issues of adoption, guardianship, depriving of parental rights, etc., can be addressed. It’s a serious problem which left tens of kids in a state of uncertainty. There are huge waiting lists of cases, but that’s less important. What is important is that there’s movement.
When it comes to supplies, the situation is also pretty good. In any event, establishments such as orphanages, shelters, old age homes, psycho-neurological wards are very well provided with food. I remember well how we visited a boarding house back in ’15, where there was only flour and canned meat. We brought apples and oranges, with the director despairing that the kids haven’t eaten any “vitamins” in several months. There was nothing back then.
Problems rather lie elsewhere. In hospices, hospitals–they nearly always have shortages of diapers, washing supplies, powders.
Children’s establishments there’s always a shortage of clothes, materials for arts adn crafts, books, textbooks. All of it burns, or gets broken. They cope as best they can.
On the photo, the Lugansk rehab center. We’ve written about it several times.
Zhenya recently brought them books donated by my readers.
Since we’re on a streak of good news, I will, with your permission, extend it.
We have us a Taisiya Pavlovna.
Our “grandma”, raising a grandson on her own. The daughter was struck down right in front of her son during the summer of ’14. A shell fragment cut through her stomach, intestines, liver. The Lugansk hospital performed an emergency surgery as best they could, without electricity, in extreme heat. Such were the times. The summer of 2014 was very bloody for Lugansk. The city was besieged, and was being destroyed using all types of weapons, including aircraft. There was no phone service, water, electricity, food, pharmacies were empty. People couldn’t understand what was happening.
Sasha’s mom lived for two more years after that wound. Two years of suffering and constant pain, before expiring.
Sasha was left alone with his grandma. No, that’s not right. They had each other.
We’ve been helping them for years. Last year Taisiya survived two strokes. Thank goodness she survived and recovered.
Taisiya Pavlovna has a whole range of ailments, including hypertension and diabetes. She and Sasha live on 3200 rubles a month, plus our aid. I can’t imagine how one can live on such income. The boy is growing, goes to school, there are utilities, medications…
This information is for those who doesn’t know anything about Taisiya Pavlovna.
And now I will say more. There is an amazing person among us. Boris from Kazan. Remember him? You should!
Yes, he’s the one who bought the boiler for our sisters, and brought cigars from Cuba for Seryozha Kutsenko. He’s also helped a lot others as well. Boris is a young geophysicist, with merry young sons. Boris, I didn’t say too much, did I?
You’re going to drop dead right now! And you won’t believe it. You’ll say Hirosimka has taken to drinking.
The power of networks continues to amaze yet again! The power of repost (don’t forget about that, by the way!) in action.
There’s a kid in Lugansk named Rodion. He’s two and a half. A little dynamo. It so happened that he was born deaf. We were able to organize a free surgery for him to install a cochlear implant in Moscow. Lugansk lacks proper equipment and specialists for something like that. Doctors would say it would take a miracle. That miracle was Irina Bednova who helped organize everything for free in the capital. And that’s a lot of money, believe me.
So in April the boy was taken to Moscow. The operation took place, everything was successful. In May he was brought back for the first tuning. That already had to be paid for. Thanks to you and your aid, we were able to pay for the specialists, Anya (the mom) and Rodion’s stay in Moscow, and bought tickets there and back.
I wrote about all that in detail earlier.
Painstakingly retold the tuning procedure, what the specialists had to say.
And then suddenly I get a letter.
A miracle happened!
Aleksey was operated on and…he’s not merely alive, not merely conscious.
Everything turned out perfect!
Aleksey quickly recovered. A day later he was sitting, eating, walking. Things developed so rapidly that he was discharged on June 11, though we were expecting him to say there for at least another week. But, as the experts said in the end, there is no need for him to say longer, his condition was good, so he could go home.
We sent Aleksey home, together with his wife Tanya.
And by “we” I mean our Sasha, who took them to the bus station.
They are already back in Lugansk, are recovering, and can’t believe what just happened.
I’m posting an endless quantity of photos of Vika where she’s smiling.
She does, in fact, smile. Every time we brought aid, she’s joyful. Sincerely, earnestly. This is not a forced smile in front of a camera. She’s genuinely happy. Because of the aid, of us, and of your constant attention…
But I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know how to grab the tail of the nightmare which is following this girl.
We met on May of ’16 in Lugansk when she was on the brink of death. Unfortunately, that’s no figure of speech. She started to lose eyesight, two of her front teeth fell out, her thyroid gland was out of control and, most awfully–she lost the will to live. We’ve been fighting for Vika ever since.
We took her to Moscow. Her lungs were operated on since it turned out she had TB. Bought a huge amount of expensive meds. Her eyes and gynecology were also operated on. Constant hospitalizations. In the end she lost her sight and her health continue to crumble. We buy her all the medications she needs. We also get her food, insulin, test strips. But it doesn’t help! Vika has diabetes and, let me tell you, it’s a terrible illness. I can’t even guess the extent. It does not forgive mistakes. You simply have no right to make mistakes, and your whole life becomes a struggle for it. Diabetes did not forgive Vika that spring when she did not eat and simply lay in bed. It did not forgive those few weeks when her brother died, when she did not want to live. When she stopped eating. Terrible processes got underway which we are trying to arrest. But we are not succeeding.
We’re not giving up, we’re fighting. But I don’t know. That’s the truth.
The previous post was about how Vika had an emergency hospitalization due to a burst ovary cyst. It was operated on.
And now I’m writing about Vika’s kidneys failing. Her mom is in panic. One kidney already failed, the second one is in bad shape.
Together with Sasha Shaskova we ran all over Moscow to get the needed medications which can’t be obtained in LPR. She needs to take them for several days (shown on the last photo).
But Vika continues to smile on all the photos. Our Bellflower. Our very own Bellflower.
Beautiful, young, joyful.
How the hell is one to write about it?
What is there to say?
Our Seryoga is like a smokestack.
No matter what we do, it doesn’t help.
–Seryozha, what should we bring?
His eyes are full of yearning so that there’s nothing you can do to resist. –“Cigarettes, Dunyasha”.
–There are few pleasures in the retirement home. But you know what is the biggest one? Every morning I brew coffee, then I take my tank out into the stairwell and draw on a cigarette…Mmm…
“Tank” is his term for the electric wheelchair.
And you know, he tells you this story with his eyes half-closed, with a sweet smile melting across his face, as if he were resting on a beach, with the ocean licking his heels.
So we gave it a collective shrug. Although, to be honest, his health is not exactly very good. Everyone is trying to get him to stop–the doctors, the retirement home staff. Seryozha has polyarthritis, last year he had a heart attack. Not a laughing matter.
But as soon as I remember his “mmm…” with half-closed eyes, I can’t join in. He’s been smoking his whole life, the devil.
And he smokes the nastiest stuff he can find.
So recently I got a message from Boris. Boris from Kazan who bought a boiler for our sisters and provided the intensive care department with powders and cleaning supplies. And in general regularly helps people in our care. So he says “Dunya, I’m in Cuba right now. Are any of ours smokers? I could bring a cigar…”
Boris! Remembered! About the people we care after! While in Cuba!
One doesn’t want to say anything prematurely.
One becomes superstitious, afraid to say to much.
My phone has been ringing off the hook: “how did the surgery go?”
Aleksey from Lugansk was operated on by some of the best neurosurgeons in Moscow.
The surgery lasted 5 hours.
To say it was very complex would be an understatement. I wrote in an earlier post it’s the most complex existing surgery. More so than a heart surgery. He had a trepanation done and, in rough terms, his blood vessel was put “back in the right place”.
Aleksey had an aneurysm and two attacks, and it’s a miracle he survived.
Tanya, his wife, says the surgeons were very concerned both before and after the operation.