Of Heart Surgery and Humanity

Notes from a humanitarian medical worker in the Middle East. Saving lives and bringing peace and reconciliation, one heart surgery at a time.

Between 2010 and 2014, I worked in the Middle East with a humanitarian medical NGO called Shevet Achim, a Christian organization whose name means “Brothers Dwelling in Unity” and is taken from the Hebrew translation of Psalm 133. Each year, more than one million children worldwide are born with some type of heart defect. Since 1994, Shevet Achim has brought children from Gaza, the West Bank, Iraq, Iraqi Kurdistan, and Syria to world-renowned hospitals in Israel for life-saving heart surgery. In the “land of their enemy”, these dying children are given a second chance at life.

The children and their families are Muslim, Yazidi, and Christian. The medical staff are Jewish, Christian, and Muslim. Shevet Achim staff and volunteers come from many countries, and are Christians and Jews. There is one common goal: to save the lives of dying children.

During the course of their treatment, Shevet Achim staff and volunteers assist with paperwork and permits to bring them to Israel, support them in the hospital through the course of testing, surgery, and recovery, take photos and write blogs and newsletters about their journey, and live alongside them and care for them in Shevet Achim’s facility outside of the hospital.

During my time working with Shevet Achim, I held babies from Gaza, prayed in English and Arabic alongside Syrian and Gazan mothers, shared meals and living space with people from a dozen different countries, baked cookies with mothers and children from Iraq, danced in the streets of Jerusalem with an elderly Jewish man and two Iraqi Muslim children, laughed and rejoiced, cried and mourned, and loved.

Here is the update post that I wrote for one of the children on his surgery day (which also happened to be Holocaust memorial day).

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April 19, 2012

Little Khaled* is a precious two-year-old boy with huge dark eyes and an adorable grin.

Beneath the adorable, huggable, and lovable exterior of his body lies a tiny broken heart in need of urgent repair. Today, Khaled’s broken heart was repaired by the skilled members of the cardiac surgery team.

I and another Shevet volunteer spent the day with Khaled’s mother, keeping her company throughout the nearly seven-hour wait during her son’s complicated operation.

When we met them in Khaled’s hospital room, his mother looked exhausted and nervous. Neither she nor her son slept well; she because she knows the seriousness of today, and he because he is fasting before his surgery and was very hungry!

Khaled’s mother kissed her son gently, and then handed him over to the nurses. When the doors had closed behind the medical team, we took her upstairs to wait.

She told us about how hard she had searched for help in Kurdistan, going from one city and hospital to another, but finding nothing. While this mother is far from home, and has had very difficult days of waiting here in Israel, she knows it was worth the sacrifice to save her son.

Since we had a very long wait ahead of us, Ryan* suggested that we take Khaled’s mother to the beach, fifteen minutes away from the hospital. We all responded enthusiastically, so it was off to the sea shore for some fun in the sun, sand, and waves. Many of our Kurdish families have never seen the ocean before, so the Mediterranean Sea is an entirely new experience for them. Khaled’s mother loved it; sitting on a rock and dipping her feet into the cool blue water, tracing designs in the sand, and collecting pretty shells and rocks.

When we returned to the hospital, she fell asleep in her chair in the waiting room, exhausted by the weeks she has spent in the hospital with her son and the emotions of it all.

The hours continued to pass, slowly but surely.

When Ryan and I came back from getting a snack for Khaled’s mother and both of us, as we got off the elevator on the surgical floor, we ran straight into the lead surgeon coming down the hallway. Perfect timing!

He followed us back to the waiting area, and told us that the surgery was complete and they would be bringing Khaled into the ICU soon. The surgery had gone well, and Khaled’s heart had been fully repaired.

Left untreated, his heart defect would have caused him to die a slow and painful death by age three or four. Thanks to these skilled surgeons, his heart is healed and he will live a long and healthy life!

We rejoiced together, hugging and praising God.

Eventually, Khaled’s mother was allowed to see her son in the ICU. He lies under blue hospital blankets, under heavy sedation, intubated (breathing tube in his throat) and hooked up to many machines. The cardiac ICU is a frightening place with all of its equipment and noises.

Khaled’s mother listened carefully as Ryan and I explained what all of the different machines were for, reassuring her that Khaled was okay, the surgery had gone very well, and things were good now! His skin, previously tinged a dusky shade of blue-gray from a dangerous lack of oxygen caused by his heart defect, is now a beautiful healthy pink.

He will remain sedated and intubated for the next day or two, to allow his body to rest and adjust to the change in his healthy new heart.

We showed Khaled’s mother to the parents’ sleeping quarters in the hospital, where she will sleep while he is in ICU. Once he is moved out of ICU and into a regular room again, she will be able to sleep at his bedside like she had been doing.

As we walked to that wing, an air raid siren sounded for two minutes, marking a moment of silence all across Israel to remember the Jewish victims of the Holocaust.

Ryan and I briefly explained this to Khaled’s mother, and Ryan told her that today was an important day for Khaled and for all of Israel. Today, on a day when the people of Israel remember death and grief, they gave life and hope to Khaled.

What a beautiful reminder of the message of Shevet Achim!

.end.