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Two night ago I couldn't sleep. My thoughts were racing, and I decided to put them down in writing:
It’s been almost a week and I am still unable to fully comprehend and process the events that took place on the 4th of August in Beirut.
It’s been almost a week and I am still unable to fully comprehend and process the events that took place on the 4th of August in Beirut.
I wake up every morning and go to work, but I feel numb and disconnected.
I haven’t been able to shed tears because I am still in a state of shock. I keep re-living the events of that night, I see patients’ faces in pain, in distress. I see shards of glass. I see blood.
I haven’t been able to shed tears because I am still in a state of shock. I keep re-living the events of that night, I see patients’ faces in pain, in distress. I see shards of glass. I see blood.
So much blood was shed that night.
Nothing could have prepared us for any of it. We’ve all seen movies and medical TV shows where disasters happen. I used to watch these shows and think of the scenery as something unreal. Something that could and would never happen.
Nothing could have prepared us for any of it. We’ve all seen movies and medical TV shows where disasters happen. I used to watch these shows and think of the scenery as something unreal. Something that could and would never happen.
What we experienced that night was far worse than any scene I might have seen on television. The number of patients that came into the emergency room that day was overwhelming.
I was scared, and anxious. I was distraught.
I was scared, and anxious. I was distraught.
Regardless, I had to put it all aside and focus on the task at hand, on my job, on my vocation: helping those in need.
I remember running around the emergency department, seeing patient after patient and trying to triage them in my head.
I remember running around the emergency department, seeing patient after patient and trying to triage them in my head.
A man with some shards of glass and lacerations in the face could wait. A woman with severe bleeding and an orbital hematoma couldn’t. As an ENT, I am not trained to deal with traumatic body injuries, so I tried to help as much, and as effectively as I could.
Part of the process was being there for patients, reassuring them, caring for them on the emotional level. Everyone was scared and confused, but I couldn’t allow my emotions to take over. I had to intellectualize in order to be able to help others.
We worked tirelessly for about 10 hours without any breaks. Cleaning wounds, suturing, stapling, and helping out as much we could. None of us slept that night. Neither those that were there, nor those that weren’t.
It’s almost been a week and I still can’t feel anything. I shut my emotions off on that night and I haven’t been able to let myself feel since then, because the intensity of the pain might handicap me. And I can’t be handicapped. I need to stay alert and functional.
I need to keep working because people are still hurt, and people are still getting injured every day. We moved from treating people injured by the explosion to treating people being attacked at the protests every night. I feel trapped in a never-ending nightmare.
Almost a whole week has passed and yet it feels like yesterday. The intensity of the shock has not faded one bit.
Every morning I wake up and I grieve. I grieve the lives we lost. I grieve those who lost loved ones, their homes and their workplaces.
Every morning I wake up and I grieve. I grieve the lives we lost. I grieve those who lost loved ones, their homes and their workplaces.
I grieve those who got injured. I grieve those who lost an eye, an ear, a limb. I grieve a city that I love. I grieve its familiar streets. But most of all I grieve my hopes and dreams. How can one still hope after such an event?
How can one still dream of a better future, or of any future at all, when the world you know has literally collapsed around you? As a 27-year-old physician, I spent most of my teenage and early adult years behind books, studying tirelessly, to come to help to those in need.
All I have ever wanted was to be able to care for others and not feel helpless when people came to me for help. On August 4th 2020, I was helpless. I did my best, but nothing I could have done would have been sufficient.
I couldn’t save everyone. We couldn’t save everyone. And for that I am sorry. I grieve the lives lost every day. I grieve the wounded every day. How can one get closure from such a tragedy? #BeirutExplosion #BeirutBlast
