I worked in Svitlodarsk Hospital as a nurse before the war. When the terrible shelling began, I was on duty. One of the shells hit the Infectious Diseases Department. Others were scattered across the courtyard of the medical complex.
My heart still breaks when I remember that my children and mother were waiting for me at home during the shelling.
Now we are going through terrible times together. My son Maksym is the only prop and moral support in the family. When explosions are heard outside, it is he who is responsible for the safety of this family.
We did not hide in the basement, because we knew that if a shell flew into the basement, we could be buried there. Maksym always takes us to the room with no windows. So we sit there, waiting out the attacks.
A lot of housing in Myronivskyi was damaged by shrapnel. I still can't bear to look at my neighbours' house which burned to the ground.
I have a hobby - growing garden flowers - which helps me get distracted a little bit from all this. I take care of them, they make me happy. Before the war, I had a lot of them, but when we left, when things turned really scary, some of the flowers died.
We have to nickel and dime. It is cold inside the house. Coal supply may not be enough until the end of winter. I can't find a job in my village. There is no hospital, and the staff in neighbouring town of Svitlodarsk has been laid off. It is quite expensive, and it takes a while to go to Bakhmut. We don't even have enough money to buy bread. We live on small jobs. Son Maksym pleases us with his studies. He dreams to become a programmer. Daughter Alina practices dancing.
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