Stories that you confided to us

Menu
{( row.text )}
{( row.tag )}
header-logo

Stories that you confided to us

Go to all stories
views: 193
Tatiana Vasylivna Hrynenko
photo0
photo1
photo2
photo3
photo4
Ocheretino
Ocheretino
My husband had a stroke after the shooting.

The war caught the family at a country cottage. My husband had a stroke after the explosion. He is completely unable to move. He can only cry. To survive the bombing, he spent the night with a neighbor in a field, on mattresses. Now the woman had to take care of three disabled people: her husband, brother and mother-in-law.

Heavy shooting on all sides, soldiers going by and settling in the village... It is so horrible. Fear, shock, and stress captivated us. My husband had a massive stroke triggered by this situation.

Donbass ... Explosions, shooting, fire, flames, ruins, the death of civilians. The misfortune came. The inhabitants did not know or think that the trouble was called 'war'. ATO is another name for this.

The war destroys Donbass  –  factories, enterprises, buildings, residential areas, and most importantly civilians. Children, old people, and all the others die. People are suffering and do not understand what kind of war this is. Several thousand people have already died.

"We never would have thought that the war would find us at a country cottage"

So my family also got into a complex and difficult situation. And it happened like this. Before the war (I will call a good time), because I retired, my husband and I decided to buy a cottage house,  and not to sit in an apartment [in Donetsk], but to move.

We bought a house  near the village of Ocheretyno through the ad. At first, we went on weekends, planted a garden, did other work, rested, you know, moved around. Then we decided to stay for the summer so as not to come here for weekends. It saves time, to say the least.

Months and years passed, and we continued our travelling. My husband even got a job nearby. We never would have thought that the war would find us at the country cottage. The roads were blocked, so we couldn't leave the house. We thought it would end quickly, but it didn't.

Heavy shooting on all sides, soldiers going by and settling in the village... It is so horrible. Fear, shock, and stress captivated us. My husband had a massive stroke triggered by this situation.

"We were a well-to-do family, but we had to start begging"

Severe disease –  paralysis of the entire left side, loss of memory, speech, and impaired brain function. Hospital. And the most interesting thing is that you need money, and not a small amount. Treatment is expensive, and you can't do without money. So we started begging. And we were a well-to-do family. My husband worked, I had my  pension payments, an apartment in Donetsk, a garage, a car. And who are we now? Canters, beggars.

 Everyone who could, helped – relatives, acquaintances, friends. And then more and more problems followed. Certificates, disability registration, passes and other obstacles... Then again, new certificates were required, and that meant   pain in the neck from the unknown. Fear, shock, stress —it had an impact on us all.

"That day my daughter lay next to an unexploded shell"

My husband can't walk. The state of health has not improved. On the contrary, it got worse. And he is now only 52 years old. Before the stroke, he did not walk well because of the consequences of the car  gas cylinder explosion. He's the driver. We took care of him after that. And now this stroke happened. Special attention, support, and assistance was provided by the village deputy and the local hospital paramedic. They helped solve the problems.

Daughter came under fire twice in Donetsk. That day my daughter lay next to an unexploded shell. I left Donetsk with my family out of fear and in a state of shock. And again I had to face all this fear and stress.

"All glass fell on me"

At 02:10 am I woke up from a pearling sound. I was all covered in glass pieces. I was very hot those days, so I didn't have a blanket on me. At first, I didn't understand what happened. I lay in my bed. After another heavy explosion followed in 2-3 seconds. Everything around shuddered.

The husband from the other room asked, "What are we going to do?" And I did not know what to say so as not to frighten him. I was all covered in glass pieces. I shook off the glass quickly before another explosion was to happen and run to him. My hands and entire body were shaking so much that I thought I wouldn't calm down. I took validol and gave it to my husband.

He can't walk, so running was not an option. I could not leave him alone. I took the blanket and went to bed with him, covered up, hugged and I told myself, "What has to happen will happen. We will pass together."

Another explosion followed, then another one. And so it happened nine times. We lay there. The silence came over which meant that we were able to move now. You can't go outside from the yard. There were trees, electrical wires, shell fragments under the gate. It was three o'clock in the morning, still dark. Terror, panic, and stress captivated my body. I started shivering again. How can a heart endure this.

"All ten windows in the house were shattered. The roof was destroyed.

It was five in the morning. It became light. And that was what I saw. The ten double windows had no glass in the frame. The roof on all buildings was like a riddle  (there is no fence), in General, the amount of damage is countless. All for what? We are civilians.

At three in the morning, my neighbor got sick. An ambulance was on the way,  but it couldn't get through. There was no way through because of the downed trees and electrical wires. While the ambulance was driving around, the neighbor died – it was a heart attack. And how is living further even possible? Who can answer this question?

"We put a mattress on the wheelbarrow and went to the field to sleep"

On the second day, the soldiers said that there would be more shelling again. What should we have done? My friends from the neighboring village called me and immediately came to help. I asked them to take my husband with them. And so they did.

My neighbor and I put a mattress on the wheelbarrow and went to the field to sleep. That night they bombed the village right where my husband was. He's under stress again. The recovery is not even discussed here? Things got even worse.

"My husband cries constantly"

He cries constantly. He can't even hold his tears answering simple questions. We need injections; treatment is expensive, so  we need money. But, where can we get them from? After all, we have already spent 59 thousand UAH for his treatment for the past two years. We can't print, after all.

And repairing the house after the bombing also remains an urgent problem. We must prepare for autumn and winter. I'm the only one who does everything. I'm not very healthy. I won't complain much. That is how I am.

This is not all. We still have a mother-in-law in Donetsk, but we can't take her away, because she couldn't walk  after all this. She is 80 years old, and her legs failed her.

"My brother was left alone in Donetsk"

Thus, our troubles continue. My brother, who also lives in Donetsk, has been left alone. His wife died 10 years ago, and his only son died three years ago. He is a disabled person. Formally he was a submariner — he served on a nuclear boat. Then a car accident happened. He broke his bones. Luckily, he survived this, he could move  his feet a little.

 And in October of 2016, he fell and broke his leg again. It didn't heal, so he can't walk. I can't quit it either. And every month I go to Donetsk to visit my mother-in-law and help my brother as much as I can. And I have to ask my neighbor to take care of my husband.

"It's hard for me, but I don't cry, I can't"

The trip to Donetsk is difficult. There are roadblocks, and there is a customs office there. You have to wait for five or seven hours, or even longer. Then my health deteriorated because of the stress. We can't say anything on our own land. What should we do? When will it all end? It's very hard for me, but I'm not crying, I can't cry. I'm shouting at the top of my voice. I can't give up and just relax.

I have three disabled patients, and I am alone. And how is living further even possible? We live and survive thanks to Rinat Akhmetov's humanitarian aid. How can anyone be this kind? He has a huge heart. It has fed 12 million people. Not everyone can do even a small amount of what he does. We would like to bow down before him and the Help team of the Foundation, as well as express our greatest gratitude.

slide1
slide2
slide3
slide4
slide5
slide6
Help us out. Share this story
img
Join the Project
Every story is unique. Share your story
Tell a story
Go to all stories