A tour of two hospitals

In the morning I visit the Al Mansour hospital together with the Algerian delegates who are taking their material there. In the first place we want to have a look at the city with in front of our hotel, across the Tigris, the ministry of urbanism and the parliament building, still standing but disemboweled, completely destroyed inside.

Life goes on, much too quiet, no sign of nervousness, people going about their usual occupations. Most men having taken their wives and children to the country, stay at home on their own left with the problem of how to carry out the daily chores: the dishes, the laundry, the preparation of food. They have stocks of food, which will last them for several days. Nadia, our Algerian friend, is laughing when she tells how her Iraqi friends make do.

In the evening we go to the other end of Al Saddoonstreet, as I thought a bomb had been dropped there yesterday. Indeed, one building hit but more importantly: the windows of the apartments across the road broken. How many people injured because of the air displacement and the glass smithereens? The Americans talk far too glibly about a clean war without civilian casualties; they do not give a damn about the popular residential areas.

We go to Yarmouk hospital, the university hospital that received most wounded people last night. Before 1990 this was one of the best hospitals in the Arab world. Doctors came from everywhere to be educated here. Before this war it was a general hospital. Today only the maternity and reanimation departments remain. The other wings are reserved for injured people and emergencies and the patients had to go home or were taken to other hospitals.

At 3 pm doctor Faysal Al Sarraf, the assistant manager of the hospital, warmly welcomes us and shows us around the surgical department. Calm reigns, but it is a calm in between two storms: doctors and nurses are relaxing a little in the yard, waiting for a new wave of victims.

Last night they had to see to 101 people (about half of the injured people in the whole of Baghdad), among them women and children; all patients are civilians who got wounded inside their homes. Most of them arrive in ambulances (we had feared the latter would be hit, fortunately they were not). They made a hundred journeys. There are patients arriving in private cars. At 9 pm twelve patients arrived in one batch.

Twelve gravely injured people had to be operated: in the abdomen, the thorax and mostly orthopedically with multiple fractures due to missile debris that flew around in  the residential areas.

These injuries are hard to treat because they are not clean and easily infected. The majority of these patients were returned home or sent to other hospitals again to make place for the next wave of the coming night, which is predicted to be even more intensive; how can this be? 

Health workers highly motivated

The staff is ready for the new attack. 'The complete staff is prepared to work 24 hours a day', doctor Faysal Al Sarraf explains, 'we have made three teams ready to function during 12 hours and take a rest after that. Some of them stay here, others return to their families at home. During the nightly attack everything worked normally. Women giving birth, a child operated , dialysis is functioning, reanimation too. A 21-year-old youth died of a heart attack caused by the shock of the bombardments.'

We are visiting the emergency ward. Eight beds for patients who will be sent to other sectors as soon as it is possible. Twenty-two operating theatres, 150 specialists and 300 resident doctors (postgraduates). The hospital has 4 ambulances, some having reanimation facilities. In Baghdad there are 100 working ambulances. 'We have been ready for years to cope despite the embargo that facilitated the onslaught' people say. An other doctor: ' I was here yesterday and throughout the night. I was receiving patients to transport them to other hospitals if necessary. The 101 victims we saw were civilians as the military have their own hospitals. Three nurses fell and were in shock because of the displacement of air breaking some hospital windows.' 

The determination of the Iraqis is contagious

A doctor: 'I have not slept for two days. I have seen blood running, we had to wipe away the blood from the emergency ward every half hour.' How do they cope? 'Last night we carried on for five hours without a break, without a meal, without drinking even a glass of water, without complaining of fatigue. We hold out but if we had hundreds of patients we would be unable to do anything. Those war injuries are multiple and very serious. We have tools but they risk breaking down if the cases keep arriving at this rhythm. For the sutures we keep ends of thread in needles that we sterilize again. We do not have local anesthesia. We miss flamazine for burns, but even if we had it we would not be able to clean the injuries with sterile water. The risks of septicemia (general infections) are enormous. 

7 pm

They start bombing again, Baghdad is wrapped in a cloak of thick black smoke, the sirens are wailing. In the end we will no longer look up and will continue typing. Just like the Iraqis we will be. Their calm and determination are contagious.