Katya went to Moscow to take her boy back to LPR.
Kolya has viral meningitis, and was taken to Moscow in December 2016 with the help of Liza Glinka.
He was in the Morozov Hospital until March. Had several surgeries.
He went back and forth between neurology and surgery.
It took them a long time to figure out what kind of infection caused this kind of inflammation in his head, which forced them to carry out more than one surgery in order to drain the liquid that was accumulating. It’s a major miracle that he’s survived all that.
The situation with Kolya Sipunov, whom Liza Glinka helped bring out of the Donbass prior to her death remains complex. The most important thing is that the boy had a surgery in Moscow, was transferred to another hospital, and is now in rehab.
It’s a complex situation, but most importantly, he’s alive and his chances are good.
However, his thieving mother managed to live up to her reputation again, as was expected.
I haven’t been able to visit Kolya myself for a long time, and not because I don’t want to see his mother Katya who robbed me and nearly brought about her son’s death. Continue reading →
On December 17, the Doctor Liza Foundation took Kolya from Lugansk to Moscow, and he’s already at the Burdenko Neurosurgery Institute.
We breathed a sigh of relief. Kolya has suppurating meningitis and surgery represents his only chance of survival.
The situation was extreme due to the mother’s utter degradation. The boy had an ordinary ear infection that escalated due to neglect. It’s hard to believe, but that’s the truth. At first we tried to found the cause of his problems elsewhere, for example with the medications or with doctors. But after a few events, it became clear the woman could not care less for the boy. This lady and her husband managed to squander 20 thousand rubles she was given to buy medications. After we brought her family food, she stole a camera out of my pocket.
Lena and Zhenya went to visit our Vika at the hospital.
The operation was successful, which we already reported immediately after the fact.
Vika is back in her room.
She’s eating, and her condition is overall stable, so much so that she even came out to talk with our folks.
They said she’s coughing, but that’s as it should be.
Vika’s surgery was performed on July 5 in the morning.
They said all the technical aspects of the operation went well.
She’s now in recovery, feeling pretty weak.
Mom said she threw up. No appetite, she’s on an IV.
It would seem that, overall, everything is fine.
Our Lugansk Vika will undergo an operation tomorrow on her lungs.
She’s very worried.
I am far away, and therefore we decided to cheer her up a bit so we recorded a video. Vika unfortunately can’t see us run down a Gurzuf street, but she can definitely hear us.
On Monday, we visited Vika.
If her condition does not deteriorate and everything remains within normal parameters, she will undergo an operation later this week or next week.
Vika has TB and the physicians said she has to be operated on.
Vika is hanging tough even though, of course, the situation is scary. Very much so.
I had a terrible dream over the weekend. One of those that forces you to cry and wakes you up because your tears are suffocating you and you can’t stop. In the dream, I saw corpses at my home. I am always lost without relatively psychoanalytical and magical explanations.
Elena Balanova called me yesterday.
Her brother, an outstanding cardiologist from Lugansk, had died. Continue reading →
–I’ve been waiting in line since the morning to buy insulin for Vika and Lesha, and some guy pushes into the line ahead. Summer, it’s hot, we’re tired. I let him go–no strength left to fight. He got his medicine and off he goes. And then the shell came in. He lost his arm to a fragment. It was just laying there in the street. But I was supposed to be on that spot.
Vika’s and Svetlana’s house is in Lugansk, facing Khryashchevatoye which was simply wiped off the Earth’s surface. I don’t know why, but we spent the whole evening talking about Lugansk. Maybe because they were homesick. And even though they were reminiscing about the war, it’s still their home. That’s where Vika’s brother is buried, and now also her grandmother.
We’re standing in the hospital’s reception–it’s already 11. Security is nearby, pretending to talk among themselves. But in fact they are carefully listening to us, which is why they haven’t sent us off.