I went to one of the few functioning hospitals left in Gaza, The European Hospital in Khan Younis, as part of a medical mission with PAMA, Palestinian American Medical Association.
As an anesthesiologist from the midwest, I knew that the situation in the hospitals were dire. Israel’s war, which has killed more than 32,000 Palestinians and injured at least 73,000, has collapsed Gaza’s healthcare system.
That’s why when the organisation sent out a call for anesthesiologists and surgeons, I didn’t hesitate to apply.
The hospital has 220 beds for patients. There were 30,000 living in and around the hospital, seeking refuge in a seemingly safe place, even though the majority of hospitals had been destroyed and targeted.
"The cases we saw were horrendous. We operated on children, women and young adults who had severe burns, explosive injuries and gunshot wounds to head, chest, and abdomen"
These 30,000 peoples’ homes had been destroyed, they had lost family members and friends. They have nowhere else to go.
To put things into perspective, one of the hospitals I work at here in the US has 315 beds. I live in a district that has a population of about 5,000 people. Imagining all of these people plus thousands more living at the hospital campus that I work at is unfathomable.
People were sleeping everywhere. On the staircases, all across the hallways, any small empty space they could find, with sheets hanging by strings and a makeshift home.
At any hospital I have ever worked at, sanitation and cleanliness is of utmost importance. Gloves, soap, clean water, emptied waste, and hand sanitizers are always accessible, so germs don’t spread and infections do not occur.
As health professionals, we're taught to treat the root cause, and in Gaza the cycle of violence starts with occupation. As Israel targets hospitals and weaponises healthcare, we must fight for health justice.
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What I saw in Gaza was harrowing. Bathrooms were rough, garbage was overflowing, and we were forced to reuse disposable medical equipment because of very limited availability. There was a lack of operating room equipment and sterile drapes.
Thankfully when I went, the medical mission right before me had brought narcotic pain medications. But with the total number of cases we did per day, about 30-40, who knows how long the supply will last.
Before that, they were performing amputations and surgeries without anaesthesia or pain medications, a pain nobody should have to endure.
The cases we saw were horrendous. We operated on children, women and young adults who had severe burns, explosive injuries and gunshot wounds to head, chest, and abdomen. Due to lack of resources and overwhelmed staff, the majority of these wounds were infected, and some had maggots inside.
We treated patients with dead flaps of flesh, bones exposed, severe traumatic brain injuries with brain matter outside the skull.
Intensive care units are a death trap and hepatitis A is an epidemic. The amount of head gunshots we saw were staggering, including on children.
I worked on numerous cases with ruptured eye globes due to shrapnel from explosive injuries. Thousands of people are now permanently blind and disabled, including children, women, young adults and elderly.
The smell and sight of blood were everywhere.
"The true heroes are the Gazan medical workers who have been working tirelessly since October"
Although we were in southern Gaza, and the situation in northern Gaza was much worse, especially with malnutrition, we still saw cases of children and patients who were underweight because of lack of food. With Israel blocking humanitarian aid, food was scarce, and prices were 20-30 times more than usual.
Aside from the lack of food, limited medical equipment and tools, unsanitary conditions and overcrowded hospital, nobody knew if they would make it out alive by the morning. There were constant explosions day and night, with intense explosions at night.
One night the team of medical workers in the room we were sleeping in woke up from an explosion that was just a few feet away from the hospital. We were about 4 kilometres away from the most intense explosions.
One case I will never forget was a man who was stuck under the rubble for eight days. He survived, but he came in with his face split in half. The plastic surgeons worked for days on him and, although he lost his eye sight, he survived.
At one point when he was stuck under the rubble for eight days, he said he saw Israeli soldiers looking around for anyone still alive to shoot them. He acted dead, prayed, and made it out alive. But the trauma he endured will be etched in his mind forever.
Some people tell me I am a hero for going to Gaza, risking my life. I disagree.
The true heroes are the Gazan medical workers who have been working tirelessly since October, the majority who are volunteering as they are not getting paid their salary. They are overworked and tired with the constant round the clock surgeries and care.
I feel very thankful I got to serve for two weeks and encourage anyone in the medical field to go, in order to give some relief to the Gazan medical workers there and bring in or donate medical supplies.
I also urge my fellow empathic medical colleagues to speak out against Israel’s sustained attacks on civilians of Gaza.
We went into the medical field to do no harm and to care for fellow humans. The decades-long blockade on Gaza has made it nearly impossible to build a sustainable healthcare infrastructure and discriminatory policies have debilitated critical care, mental health, women’s health, disability, chronic disease management, surgery, and public health.
Abdo Algendy, M.D., is an anaesthesiologist from Ohio.
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Opinions expressed in this article remain those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of The New Arab, its editorial board or staff.
