Amidst the shortage of medical personnel at the pre-front zones, Olha grabbed her sleeping bag, put on the most comfortable pants, and set off to where she was needed the most -- the military hospital. She has been assisting the wounded troops since 2014, considering inaction an unacceptable thing.
"I do everything there, from replacing clothes covering wounds to assisting the surgeon. I guess the only thing I don't do are surgeries. Wrapping limbs, pulling out some small debris, cleaning wounds, injecting medicine, or painkillers, giving pills, handing the vomit bucket, assisting patients to sit or lie down, disconnecting or connecting systems, and measuring pressure: I do it all."
In civil life, Olha is an infectious disease doctor. But the war erased all boundaries, making her a physician with a wide, one might say, the widest practice.
No one sends her there. She simply communicates with the front-line medics and uses her spare time to help during the ongoing war. Olha spends days or weeks away from home, living in hospitals, when she is on a mission.
But that's where she feels life the most.
When over there, the appreciation for the true essence of medicine and the value of life is profoundly different. You meet people who are dedicated to preserving our peace and fighting for our freedom. These are the people who confront our enemies and give their lives so that our children can sleep peacefully. Your role is to assist them so they can continue their vital service. Thus, there exists a cycle of kindness and mutual support.
The environment makes the work significantly more manageable, as gratitude is evident in the eyes of both patients and civilians working there. Everyone recognizes the importance of their contributions.
Nonetheless, this job demands you all. The wounded arrive behind schedule. Whether Olha wasn't sleeping or didn't have a chance to eat, she must deal with whatever the day brings.
As she shares, she wasn't always this way. She used to enjoy wearing skirts and high heels to work, finding comfort in that. However, when there were Maidan revolutions and when the war came to Ukraine, her personal shift was anything but painless.
"I just realized that these are the true heroes in front of me. They haven't fallen ill but have been attacked by the enemy. This only adds to my hatred for the enemy and deepens my affection for Ukrainians. The fact that they are sacrificing their health and lives for our peace is what keeps me going. I can't just stand by while they pay such a high price."
The diseases, however, enter the soldiers' lives as well from time to time. Once Olha arrived to deliever the package and discovered that there was a COVID-19 outbreak.
"My friends, doctors, and soldiers were all sick. They asked me if I could stay and of course I did. Even though I only had the clothes I'd been wearing for previous two days on the road. Later the volunteers provided me with some clean clothing. So considering the outbreak, I worked there as an infectious disease specialist for the next two months, March and April, still assisting with the evacuation of the wounded."
And if physically she's more than ready for tasks of any complexity, Olha's mental state of being sometimes takes the heaviest blow.
"These wounded individuals are truly great people and it depends on me whether they can return to the front or not, and whether there will be fewer complications after their injury, enabling them to resume normal life with minimal risk of developing pathologies that might lead to disability. Consequently, the emotional toll is significant."
Despite all the responsibility and pressure, it's even harder for Olha to return home.
The dysphoria she feels in far-from-the-front Chernivtsi is usually linked to the indifference of civilians, bureaucracy, and other trivial matters. While at the frontline, she says, all formalities are secondary.
Ukraine is extremely fortunate to have its people. The commanders I've worked with go to great lengths to care for a bigger number of injured. Almost everyone involved is purposefully there. They comprehend that it's feasible to bypass bureaucratic hurdles for providing more assistance.
Returning to the rear feels akin to being yanked out of a mechanism that Olha snugs right into. That's why she continues to assist even from home. Since 2014, she and some of her friends, mostly women, have been sending medical packages to the frontlines, along with other essentials the servicemen may require.
"They must be provided with everything. It is easier for us in the rear; we can go to sleep under a blanket and wake up in the morning to brush our teeth. It might seem insignificant, the importance of a toothbrush. However, for a fighter, one brush is crucial because today, they are in one dugout, and tomorrow, they may be in another. They cannot take everything with them. And so, we always include hygiene products and some socks and gloves in the package. Additionally, we send them sweets simply to bring them some joy."
Olha's piety to Ukrainian servicemen is absolutely understandable. What's fascinating is that she has become a hero in her own right without realizing it.
It was she who spent all weekends and vacations near the frontlines, offering invaluable assistance when others couldn't, enduring sleepless nights, and displaying incredible courage to come back again and again.
As it was in 2014, Olha still continues both volunteering and assisting as the medic. But what is really decisive here is not a year or events but Olha's soul, which is caring in all kinds of times and despite everything.
