The Ambiguous Odyssey

The gift of life is truly an out of this world experience. As I was running around the hospital from the operation theatre to the gynecology and obstetrics section to make sure the patient's blood pressure was stable for her surgery, I ran to double check a few points with the doctor and there was a birth, not any birth but twins! August 2nd, 2018 my third birth to attend and I was filled with butterflies. Twins! I took the papers from the doctor to give the patient's husband to run the labs and to give the BP patient her medications. In that moment I learned that nothing is faster than a second in a hospital; everything happens in the blink of an eye. I ran back to the labor room and a beautiful little girl was on her way out to this world, head first prepared to get down to business. The umbilical cord was cut and she was placed on the heater, disturbed by the excessive lighting and crying for dear life. Just a few feet away her mother was awaiting her second baby to joi...

I remember the very first baby I saw come to life had such a beautiful mother.   Finally, we were upgraded to the labor room! The first week was filled with gauze and linen sheets. It was an eternal process of making beds and folding gauze, and honestly I started to doubt  the day to enter the labor room was ever going to co me and if it was worth all that preparatory work . Everyday, women would come and give birth and there would be other nurses in-training like ourselves that were very “pushy’, so as you could imagine, we were always asked to leave and they would get the chance to watch the gift of life. Next thing we did was go in extra early and build strong relationship with all the people in the labor room. However, we would always arrive 2-3 minutes later than a birth, yet we would get to clean the beautiful newborn and dress them up and our mission was soon to be accomplished! So, the next day we got in, there was such a beautiful woman, painfully l...

July 24th I was moved unfortunately from the ER to the gynecology and obstetrics sections and oh boy was I disappointed. As soon as I set foot there I was given paperwork to fill out and we all know how boring that can be, so I got the worst first impression. The nurse who was in charge of the section Sister Shahinaz was the sweetest, kindest, most giving nurse I came across. She honestly taught me so much and for that I am eternally grateful. I changed sections with a fear of cannulas which she helped me overcome. So, a few days into the section she told me to go get a patient from the OT, I obliged and went. As soon as I arrived, I felt a cool air striking me, and my heart ached when I saw her there lying in fetal position, so vulnerable, so fragile. Almost a dead body on her side, on the cold, unsteady bed and that devil-like surgical nurse standing like a tyrant above her frail torso. Yelling at us to hurry up and transfer her to the other bed to move her b...

We grow so accustomed to certain rituals, like the way we have our morning coffee without a touch of cream, but I never thought I would find death so routine. Three years into an unjust war against my country and each day turning into another dozen of funerals, yet here I am sipping my coffee and staring at a screen as if nothing is happening. It’s not that I am unmoved by the reality of what’s going on, rather I’ve been programmed into an object that finds death nothing out of the ordinary. The daily raids that steal these lives no longer fill me with sadness but the void is filled with hatred and rage towards not only the coalition that’s attacking us, but also the people who watch the suffering silently and believe -yes, truly believe- that they are allowed to be so unbiased. Three years into this war and here I am done with my first year of university but have absolutely no future to think of, not a single plan for the next few years other than praying that my backyard won’t d...

I am here to describe my experience as a nurse in the ER. At first, I thought I would spend my first week in training in the pediatrics section or even better with the premies. However on July 16, I was destined suddenly through a series of coincidences into the ER. The moment I set foot in there I was shocked not by the filth -even though that truly was a problem- but rather the treatment how there is suddenly this huge gap between the person who wears a lab coat and the common citizen. These people enter this hospital in seek of help, of assistance, even if this is a public hospital they are still live beings who deserve their fair share of care. My mother has always been a strong believer that hospitals aren’t the answer, hence, I’ve never entered a hospital here in Yemen. This experience gave me a broad vision of the reality of my country.   No, this isn’t because of the coalition. Yes, there are a lot of bumps on the road due to the coalition, but to know that people no l...

There is some sort of unspoken of serenity in watching the windows while the air raids occur. It's as if the more I stare the less likely it will be our turn. You think you'll grow accustomed to the bombings but you don't. Every time a missile hits the ground it feels like the first day. Even after the raid stops I still await the next hit or when it will in fact be me. A shudder then a loud boom. I am impressed by the strength of my frail window made of steel and glass. I know at some time, some year, I will no longer hear an air raid, but by then I'll be too accustomed.   A bomb dropped while Yemenis were paying their condolences to the martyred president With every bomb drop I wonder why me? What makes me so special? Why hasn't my youth been stolen? These war crafts have destroyed everything dear to us. They've killed our president, and with every passing day I wonder when this will end? When will we get the chance to move forth? It's funn...

Lord, as time goes by it is hard to look back or reminisce upon anything. Maybe I try my best to avoid looking back or even peeking because it hurts to look back into a time that is no longer tangible, a life that is no longer ours. It is hard to move forth without -genuinely- moving forth. So, dear Lord I come here as your humble sinner asking you for the strength to endure these coming days, the power to see further than these simple minds. Enlighten me with your wisdom to see these men as more than what they utter; as humans, as wholes. It's becoming such a hard journey from darkness to light because dear Lord there is so much darkness encompassing my days. Lord, how can I see the good in the world, the future ahead with some glimpse of undecided hope? Where as I grow older I fear I won't be worth the wrinkles I’ll be wearing on my face if I haven't made a change, if I continue accepting their square shaped brains and raven black hearts. It has become a disgust...

It’s been a   month since I began writing this blog, but it just became harder to post each day that passed. I can’t identify why I have this constant feeling of fatigue; the unwillingness to make any effort to do anything at all. That being said, I made a vow to continue blogging, so here’s my attempt to complete my unfinished piece. Four. That’s all we are four helpless, defenseless women and a cat. My mother, her elder sister, my elder sister, and myself; the four of us in our 3 story home showered by rockets and missiles. We’ve had a tough week since Saturday, December 2 the day Tarek Saleh’s militias took over our neighborhood and placed a real live cannon on the ground and real live assassins on the rooftops. I genuinely believed I would die. Yes, I’ve been showered by missiles and rockets since march 25th, 2015, but in some absurd way assassins are much more alarming then rockets falling from the sky. So the first two days we were panicking because our fridge was near e...