“Doctor, please help, help my son. There’s no time left, as the curfew will be imposed again in half an hour. I’m at the checkpoint north of Ramallah, where Omar is having convulsions and I don’t know what to do? The soldiers aren’t allowing us into Ramallah”
Oh God, what should I do? Where should I start? What should I do first, get the medicine for other children, go immediately to get the medicine for Omar, or get the medicine for my elderly aunt who is ill?
No, I must go and see Omar first. But we don’t have his medication; we already gave all we had to our children in Ramallah. To save time we even left some with the butcher, the grocer and some relatives, as the curfew was only lifted for two hours after 12 days of total closure.
I’m on another checkpoint south of Ramallah trying to reach the pharmacy to get the medication,
An Israeli soldier: “ It’s forbidden, you can’t cross”.
“But I’m a doctor and I need to get to that pharmacy just over there to pick up medicine for my patients”
“No, you’re not allowed, it’s closed”
“O.K. I’ll leave my car here and walk and you can keep my I.D with you till I come back”
“No, you can’t…”
“Yes, I can, and I will. Who’s the officer here?”
“I’m the officer, what’s going on here? “
“ Ani rufat yeladim”, (Hebrew). I’m a pediatrician, and I need to pick up medicine for my sick children from that pharmacy nearby and this soldier can’t understand how urgent this is for the children and for me? He doesn’t want to listen to the language of humanity, he just listens to the language of war and aggression?”
“I have to go”. Giving the officer my I.D, I walked towards the pharmacy!
No comments!
As I came back carrying a very big box, the officer comes towards me to help!
“No thanks, I don’t need your help. I can manage, but teach your soldiers how to behave. Would you like to be treated as you treat us?
“Of course not”.
“Would you like to see a child having convulsions and being denied medical help?”
“Of course not”.
“OK, have a nice day”.
“You too.”
I rush to see Omar and call his father:
“I’m coming, I’m on my way, don’t worry, he’ll be OK, how’s he doing?”
“He’s fine now. No more fits, we’ll be waiting for you near the big tank, there are a few jeeps and a tank here at the check point.”
I jump out of my car to look at Omar. Poor kid, he looks so tired. As soon as he saw me, he ran towards me.
“Doctor, I felt down on the ground. I don’t want to fall down again, no I don’t want to!” (Omar was describing his epileptic seizures)
The father, with eyes brimming with tears. “Doctor, you remember don’t you that Omar has had no convulsions for more than six months. You were so pleased that he was responding to the treatment. But three days ago we ran out of the medicine and he started having bad convulsions and we could do nothing”
“But I told you to call me or try to get more medicine at least three days before it runs out”.
“Yes doctor, I tried to get to Ramallah three times, but each time the soldiers wouldn’t allow me in. That’s why I brought Omar with me thinking that they might be sympathetic to a child. But as you see they weren’t”.
“Goodbye Omar, goodbye sweetie. Don’t worry, I won’t allow this to happen to you again. You’ll be just fine”
On my way back, I thought to myself what a promise! Would I be able to keep it? The soldiers in the Israeli military jeep are already shouting that it’s curfew. I’m fifteen minutes late and just near my house. As I try to get into my house drive way, one soldier took a sound bomb from the jeep and threw it next to my car. I was lucky that I saw him, so I wasn’t so frightened!
Thinking over what has happened today, I feel so frustrated. I feel so sad about the whole situation in my country. Doctors all over the world have the right to work in dignity, except for those living under military occupation.
The other day Omar’s father came to pick up the medication. As he came into my office, he heard me on the phone explaining and apologizing to the mother of a child from a village near Jinin that we were short of a particular medication. The next day Omar’s father came back having again made the long journey from his village, which involved crossing five checkpoints. He had come to return some of the medicine he had got from us, because he had found out that the Ministry of Health clinic in his village was able to get the medicine he needed. He told me “I don’t want anyone to have to suffer the way I did with my child. Please give this medicine to the child from Jinin”
Today Omar no longer has seizures and we are in the process of gradually stopping his medication. Soon he will stop taking all anti- epileptic drugs. Naturally his father and the whole family will be very happy.
As for me, I will definitely be happy for Omar and his family, I’ll be happy for my mission and myself. Moreover I’ll never forget Omar father’s humanitarian stand and his compassion for other children.
Don’t you think that such a Nation deserves to live in freedom and dignity?
By: Jumana Odeh MD, MPH
Director of PHCC
Ramallah – April 2002
Email: phcc99@planet.com