Louisville Medicine Volume 65, Issue 2 | Page 29

OPINION DOCTORS Lounge survived to the hospital (there were 12,000 wounded and dead counted just by October, and it did not let up for four years) died from mortar attack in their rooms. They had no light, no heat, no bedding and mostly rice to eat, but they had doctors, nurses and family. The Serb forces controlled, and had cut off, all access to water and power within two months. Every now and then there would be hours of electricity, and people would power up anything they could. Imagine, now, the life of a Sarajevan doc- tor during the Siege - it’s been like that for years, relentlessly, in parts of Syria. You have seen the pictures; the medical accounts are the same: no supplies, no packed cells, no help, no rest; nothing but the crushed, the wounded, and the dead. At Kosovo Hospital when the call came in, “At least 30 down, shelling by the old market,” the dispatcher would ask for vol- unteers. They learned to get the military details with the medical, to decide if the ambulance crews should accept the risk. The ambulances had to drive up the exposed hillside at 80 mph, two workers and ten patients piled on top one another, racing the bullets. All the ambulances got hit. The hospital had one diesel generator and the duty surgeon could choose to power only one: should he send power to the sterilizer, or power to the anesthesia machines? They ran out of anesthesia drugs, so they operated under local, and sometimes only under courage, even amputations. They op- erated by candlelight. They reserved water for medical procedures and drinking; they had no laundry of any kind. They made their own instruments out of dental tools, hardware items and wood. They invented bone fixators from salvage to save patients’ legs. In the hiding places of the defenders of Sarajevo, they were making the ir own guns. After that unimaginable first summer, the health council decentralized the med- ical services and the operating rooms, and made neighborhood clinics trauma-capa- ble, to get the doctors and staff close to the victims. This would increase the survival of everyone involved, and reduce the risk to families rushing in with their injured loved ones. Sarajevans by and large lived underground, or in one room deemed the safest, for nearly five years. Eventually the United Nations, who controlled the airport as neutral observ- ers, sent limited supplies, but continued the arms embargo. To get out of Sarajevo, to get anything from the still-free part of Bosnia, you had to cross the airport run- way, a lethal exposure. The new Bosnian Army dug a tunnel under the runway, 340 meters, entirely by hand. They then could get medical evacuees and refugees out, and carry the lifeline of weapons, food, diesel, medicines, cigarettes in. Black marketers thrived. International medical and media “experts” arrived, clean, not in rags or scrubs stained with the blood of hundreds, took up the doctors’ and nurses’ time and marveled, and left without helping, over and over and over. More or less, the city starved, froze, hid and fought. derstand either the old or the new Sarajevo. Instead of getting generous state salaries, doctors worked for themselves. The he- roes of the hospitals took their freedom and worked for profit, and were roundly criticized. As in any former socialist state, the ideologues outnumbered the competent. Dr. Vladimir J. Simunovic, head of a neural trauma service throughout the war, worked through it all and wrote about it in Conflict and Health in 2007. His lessons apply very much to peacetime doctoring: promote peace in your commu- nity through better health. Lead by listening. Teach your successors. Decision-makers must also be the people on the ground, on the bottom, laboring in the trenches – not just the brass, who spent their wars at the desk, not the wards. Build an escape tunnel if you must (concierge medicine, off-the- grid practices, locum tenens, banding to- gether in enterprises for better deals). Those who have survived a war have hidden wounds that could still prove fatal: remember that healing must never stop. Dr. Barry practices Internal Medicine with Norton Community Medical Associates-Bar- ret. She is a clinical associate professor at the University of Louisville School of Medicine, Department of Medicine. Only after the ferocity of the Markale market massacre and the pitiless genocide in Srebrenica did NATO intervene with real might. Their planes bombed the Serbian ranks in the mountains, and two months later, forced the Dayton Peace Treaty, No- vember 1995. After that came more experts, more humanitarian projects, corruption and re- construction, more and more and more non-government do-gooders and outright “grant money profiteers,” who failed to un- JULY 2017 27