Kalinovka Hospice

One year ago I made the hard decision not to visit hospices. After the New Year’s marathon, where I visited several hospices dressed as the Snow Maiden and with a broad smile on my face in order to give the dying the New Year’s greetings, I fell ill. Upon returning to Moscow I crawled into bed, I was shaking, experienced panic attacks, dizziness, and I started to see a psychologist. I still do. I developed cancer-phobia which is still making itself felt but it’s not as bad as it used to be. In part because I have not been to such institutions. I can’t.
I thought for six months I was about to die. I thought I had thousands of incurable illnesses. Kept looking for them, and lapsed into hypochondria with every health problem.
So, what’s all this about?
Helping hospices is a big part of our aid work. I don’t know how our Lena can find the strength this requires. Lilya was dying in a hospice, and Lena was constantly with her. Many of the people we were helping were there, and Lena sat with them, brought them food, stayed with them until the end. Food and medications are important, but don’t compare to Lena’s moral help. But I broke, and my post about it last year was indeed titled “Broken”. I don’t know if I’ve put myself together since. But I live on, smile, travel, while our aid continues full steam. But I still shudder when I remember the young man with a barely visible beard who was dying of cancer. I’m still horrified by the memory of Nina, whom we brought presents and who died two days later. Liliya, Inna, our Ira, and others.
I don’t know whence the hospice workers’ willpower. I don’t know, I don’t understand, and I simply tip my hat to them in respect as people who are always there.
We try to help them regularly. With cleaning supplies, diapers, detergents. These are seemingly little things, but the fact is that’s simply what’s not available. They get only minimal supplies, and suffer from catastrophic shortages. The worst situation is in the Kalinovka hospice, a town in the line of fire. Last year, when we came to visit, a shall struck two days after we left breaking windows. Nobody was injured. Shells there are a normal thing. There is no bomb shelter, but the workers laugh off such questions. Ordinary life with shells, dying elderly, and diapers in short supply.

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Kalinovo is a town right next to Pervomaysk. If one were to drive from Irmino, you turn at once into the very long town street, where it takes forever to reach the hospice.

This year, we (not I, but our Lugansk friends) brought greetings to everyone on the hospice. But they brought more than bags of chocolates. I have a reader named Boris in Kazan, who donated 35 thousand rubles for everything the hospice needed. We brought it all together with the presents (photographs are at the end). When I sent Boris information on what we bought, he responded “I didn’t realize it would be so much”. It wasn’t all that much, but not very little either. And it’s genuine help. Not imaginary or notional, but something that’s actually needed.
Boris, huge thanks for your big heart!
Thanks to everyone who donated money for the hospice!
This is the last source of relief. I remember the tears. I remember their eyes and gratitude. This is very important to them.
And a separate thanks to the hospice personnel.
Thanks to Lena, who was not afraid to walk down every corridor and pass greetings to everyone in person. Look them in the eyes and wish them…all the best in the New Year…
I know what that means. Thank you my dearest Lena.
Photos are below.
Yes, if you want to help hospices, please label your contributions “hospice”.
Aid is always needed.

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Our Grandfather Frost and the Snow Maiden–Lena!

Letter of appreciation.

Help from Boris.

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If you want to help the people of the Donbass, please write me in person through LiveJournal, facebookV Kontakte, or email: littlehirosima@gmail.com. Paypal address: littlehirosima@gmail.com.
Please label contributions intended for hospices “hospice”.


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