Around four in the afternoon, my husband came to change his clothes before returning to the hospital, and the ambulance was still waiting. He asked me if I needed anything, and I said no. Then he said, “Samer, go to the supermarket and get a few things.” We still had some savings.
My child heard this and shouted, “I’ll come with you to the supermarket!” My husband laughed and said, “I’ll wait for you downstairs.” My child took a little longer, busy putting on his shoes. Seconds later, a massive explosion rocked the area. The smell of gunpowder spread, and I heard the sound of glass shattering inside the house before I regained consciousness.
My daughter screamed “Daddy,” as if something demonic had struck her. I couldn’t understand what was happening. My feet carried me to the room where my daughter stood near the balcony, her face lifeless. My other daughter stood frozen, speechless.
I held my daughter, who could only cry out, “Daddy… Daddy.” In that moment, I realized the magnitude of the disaster. I pulled my hijab, and before I could reach my husband, my son came running in crying. I felt every cell in my body shudder at his fragmented words and sobs: “Daddy… they took him in the ambulance.” I sank into the nearest chair. Moments later, the neighbors filled the place, and the future seemed uncertain.
I left my children and rushed to the hospital, where the tragedy unfolded in all its details: the smell of blood was everywhere, and everyone was in shock. My mother and I asked about my husband’s whereabouts and found his colleagues at work. One of them shouted, “We need blood donors; he’s bleeding!” I felt like I was living in a dream, everything around me invisible. My mother grabbed my hand and said, “Be strong.”
Unfortunately, my husband was hit by shrapnel in his lung and head, and the most tragic was the shrapnel that struck his eye, causing severe bleeding. The bleeding was controlled with great difficulty, and after a few days, an urgent medical transfer abroad was arranged.
Sadly, my husband lost his eye and needs to travel to have the shrapnel removed, relieve the pain, and have a prosthetic eye fitted. His other eye was also severely affected. This marked a turning point in our lives, from bad to worse, and I became a mother and responsible for a family of seven.
Let me tell you: throughout the war, my husband worked tirelessly in the hospital, day and night, and now he suffers excruciating pain amid scarce painkillers and restricted access to treatment. I never imagined that someone who dedicated himself to serving others could be injured and denied care.
This is not an isolated problem—it is the tragedy of thousands of injured people living the same harsh reality. In the incident that injured my husband, 22 people lost their lives, leaving behind indescribable pain and shattered families.
Donation link for my family⬇️⬇️⬇️
https://chuffed.org/project/167068-urgent-assistance-for-nada
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#Palestine
