Viktoria from Fabrichnoye

Well, Yandex won’t like this post. I understand it. I would be glad to write about pink ponies but it seems life took me elsewhere. This is a hard post. Those who don’t want “negativity”, please close it down and don’t read it.
The post is about Viktoria who lives in the village of Fabrichnoye, near Lugansk. It’s popularly known as the “Birdtown” since it has a chicken farm. That same long-suffering farm that was shelled in August ’14. My long-term readers know it well, since we’ve rendered aid to Lyubov Mikhailovna Chernykh, a retiree who was wounded there. After several buildings were damaged, the corpses of the birds almost immediately started to rot because ’14 summer was unusually hot. Lyubov Mikhailovna and other women from the village went to clean out these corpses. The village, like Lugansk itself, kept being shelled. But there was no other option.
She lost a leg and an arm on one such day (to read more about her, please click on the Chernykh tag at the bottom of this post).
Viktoria is from the same village and spent the whole summer of ’14 there. The whole hell. She was 41 when the war began.
I wrote many times int he blog that the cancer ward in Lugansk is in difficult straits. They have not seen such an influx before the war. Now there are long waiting lists. The hospice is nearly impossible to get into.
Viktoria had a huge lump appear under the jaw. Another one in the breast. Both–malignant…

Viktoria, unlike many other people we look after, is not. Unlike Sofia, who died alone with her tiny daughter in her arms…
She has a daughter, but she recently gave birth. The daughter’s husband works a dozen jobs a dozen hours a day and they still don’t have enough. The family has nothing but debts due to Viktoria’s chemotherapies and other health problems. Medications are needed.
Zhenya writes: “She cried a lot, of course, when she learned the diagnosis.” Viktoria talks and smiles, her smile is bright, but there are tears in her eyes. “I smile, so everything will be well, right?” And a child-like gaze, full of hope.
Viktoria is the soul of the village, she is loved and respected. When they found out she was ill, neighbors made a collection around the village. Collected money. Thanks to them Viktoria was able to have 6 (!!!) rounds of chemo. She also has a serious hormonal imbalance and jumps in sugar levels…She’s taking hormonal preparations.”
That’s where things stand.
Not too well…
When they turned to us for help, Viktoria was supposed to have a surgery. Or, rather, two at once. It was necessary to buy all the consumables for the surgeries. That’s how it is in Lugansk, alas. We’ve had to do this more than once.
Micro-metastases were detected in the lump (the last photo) but as far as I understand they have not spread. That’s very good. Viktoria is on the mend.
The surgeries were canceled.
Chemo will begin on September 2.
But the family still badly needs help.
We currently take care of two people with cancer.
There’s also Anzhela, and I’m gathering my strength to write about her. Everything’s gone badly there.
Overall, friends, if you want to help, please label your contributions “cancer”.
The food we’ve delivered.

Medical history extracts.

If you want to help the people of the Donbass, please write me in person through LiveJournal, facebookV Kontakte, or email: Paypal address:

Nothing but good news

The last two days were perfectly crazy, as we, dressed up as Grandfather Frost and Snow Maiden visited practically all of Lugansk.
By the evening we were barely standing and it seems I dreamed we visited more kids and made them read poetry.
Cars were honking at us, people were waving and nearly all the adults were excitedly conveying us New Year’s greetings.
We visited many apartments, but this post will cover only those which you already know.
The people we help, those whom you periodically see on the pages of this blog.
Here we are visiting the family of Vitaliy, a militiaman from Rubezhnoye. Vitaliy spent over a year in captivity in Ukraine. Now he, his wife, and son live in a dorm in Lugansk.


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Just don’t cry!

But this is not a sad post. Rather the opposite.
I recently wrote about the story of the heroic and amazing Lyubov Mikhailovna Chernykh from Lugansk. About how she lost a leg and an arm to shellfire, while she was helping at the poultry farm to clean up the chicken corpses. During the summer, when there was a threat to the city from infection.
When men refused to go to dig up the rotting carcasses. When one could spend no more than 15 minutes there, because people would lose consciousness. From the stench and heat. And under constant shelling.
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Women and War

A friend sent me a message about my visits to the Donbass: “Is it worth it? Oligarch clans are fighting it out. Ordinary people are dying. It’s a story as old as the world itself.”
I was actually discouraged by that. What can I say? In the last several weeks, the question asked most frequently by my friends has been “why take the risk?”
I can cite a single story in reply.
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