Amputees bear permanent reminders of war

Amputees bear permanent reminders of war
South Lebanon center struggles to keep up with demand for prosthetic limbs
Source: Daily Star, 28-3-2007
SARAFAND: Seven months have passed since UN Security Council Resolution 1701 ended the summer 2006 war with "Israel", but for some Southerners the war will never end as they struggle to live without an arm, a leg, or even a jaw. "Just going to the washroom is a real chore," said Mohammad Nahle, 32, as he exposed a prosthetic leg and a thin smile.
"It isn`t very attractive, is it?" he joked.
Nahle lost his leg on August 12, two days before the 34-day conflict came to a close.
He was out on a rescue operation with the Lebanese Civil Defense in Nabatiyeh when he stepped on a cluster bomb - one of millions spread by "Israel" warplanes, artillery and rockets in the last days of the war.
UN officials have said that as many as 4 million cluster bombs were dropped over South Lebanon during the conflict. Cluster munitions spread bomblets over a wide area. Many of the bomblets do not explode on impact, but can do so later at the slightest touch, making them similar to anti-personnel land mines.
"I went there to save someone and I was the one who ended up being rescued," said Nahle, who has tried to remain upbeat about his fate.
Sadly, his tragic story is not unique. Up to 200 of the thousands of Lebanese wounded during the war lost a limb or two to the conflict, if not immediately then over time due to inadequate treatment or supervision.
"There is no magic wand to fix what the war left behind," said Maha Shuman Gebai, director of the Nabih Berri Rehabilitation Compound in Sarafand. The center is a key member of the Lebanese Welfare Association for the Handicapped.
Operating under the motto "Turning disability into ability," the center is one of the only comprehensive facilities in South Lebanon dealing with amputees and other severely disabled persons.
The center opened in 1996 to cater to the needs of those wounded during "Israel`s" Grapes of Wrath operation that year in South Lebanon, and is currently struggling to keep up with increased demand for prosthetic limbs after the latest conflict.
Gebai said that one of the greatest challenges for amputees was being "psychologically open" to visiting the center and asking for help.
"Every case is a different color of pain, but all of the colors are black," said Gebai.
Almost 100 amputees visited the center in March alone, she added, a remarkable feat considering the facility has a staff of 130, including 30 physicians.
Gebai highlighted the fact that most of amputees have "multiple injuries," such as the loss of an eye and an arm, and that each patient must first undergo a complete medical exam before entering into a full rehabilitation plan.
In addition to the flood of Southerners wounded during the summer war, a steady stream of victims continues to pour into the center from the hundreds of thousands of unexploded ordnance left littering the South.
Prosthetic legs are in higher demand than arms, as most of the bomblets detonate underfoot, shattering the lower limbs.
"It is a life-changing experience, and it is hard on everyone," Gebai said.
The center, like most facilities of its kind in Lebanon, is primarily funded by donations.
"We are always in need of funds," Gebai said.
A basic fixed prosthetic leg costs about $700, she explained, while flexible limbs cost thousands.
Coupled with long waiting lists for prosthetic limbs, amputees must also find the financial means to make their living spaces livable.
"Regrettably, we can`t afford to make homes accessible to the handicapped, only specific cases where the person is alone without a family," Gebai said.
"In Lebanon we take that for granted and assume that everyone has family," she added.
Nahle lives with his sisters and mother, who are helping to take care of him but are having a hard time dealing with his injury.
"I don`t want pity from anyone," he said, but admitted that he was also having a hard time being seen as a victim after so many years as a paramedic.
"Your whole life changes and the simplest of routines are gone," he said.
"Going out with friends, just stepping out for a stroll or to browse for a book, everything changes. You find yourself unable to do many things, or enjoy them like before," he added.
"This was the will of God," said Nahle, who is determined to live "as naturally possible."
Nahle continues to hold out hope that the Civil Defense will find him work in the profession that he loves.
For other amputees, the strain of daily life can often prove too much to bear.
"I saw my ripped arm in front of me, so I grabbed it and refused to let go of it," said Hussein Mohammad Ismail Borj.
Borj lost his arm during "Israel`s" notorious attack on a UN base in Qana during "Grapes of Wrath," which killed more than 100 people.
Now 33, Borj works at a store in Qana, a village with its own tragic history.
"I felt great sadness watching the news during the war, as I knew a lot of people will be in the same position as me after the war," he said.
"`Israel` is merciless, and its government should be the one buying us prosthetic limbs for the arms and legs they took," he added.
Borj recalled his difficulties in learning to write with his left hand, and giving up his dreams of becoming a carpenter and getting married.
"I doubt anyone would want to marry me now," he said.
"Some money here and there, but money won`t bring back the arm," he said.
That complaint was common among many of those who spoke to The Daily Star for this article, who repeatedly asked: "Where is the government?" and "Why is it not doing anything to help amputees?"
Reeling in his fishing net several days after the summer war was launched cost Mohammad Fajal, 37, his right arm, an eye and his hearing.
Seven months later, Fajal is still waiting for a flexible prosthetic arm, as "a fixed one is useless to me."
"Have you ever heard of a good one-armed fisherman?" joked the father of three from Tyre. "When my youngest son keeps asking me when I will be getting an arm it just kills me inside," he said, overcome with emotion.
Fajal`s family is more than familiar with pain - his two brothers each lost a leg during an "Israeli" attack in 1993.
Ahmad Abu Khaleel, 24, was driving home on the outskirts of Tyre last July when an "Israeli" rocket struck his car. He sustained severe wounds across his body and lost half of his jaw.
Khaleel`s sole goal in life today is to be able to talk "normally" again.
His difficulty in pronouncing many words, or in containing a continuous stream of saliva from his mouth, is slowly eating away at him.
"I can`t live like this," Khaleel said.
Rasha Mohammad Zayoun, 17, lost her left leg two months ago when she reached into a patch of fresh zaatar and found a cluster bomb. "I felt this great pain, and then I noticed that my leg was gone," she said.
Zayoun feels sad most of the time, spending her days drawing and dreaming of the day when she will be given her "new leg."
Doctors say Zayoun waited too long before getting the necessary medical attention after her accident and will now need a tremendous amount of physiotherapy to straighten out what remains of her leg.
Dr. Fateha al-Hurr, the head supervisor at the Sarafand center, said the amputee file in Lebanon is "a mess."
"No one is keeping tabs on the various cases, as the same person is often registered at several places and others are not registered at all," Hurr said.
"They come feeling lost; they don`t know who and where to turn to," she added.
Hurr recalled one 10-year-old boy who fractured his leg during the war but is now an amputee because he could not get the necessary treatment in time.
"It is just so frustrating," the physician added.
In addition to the strain on the amputee, their families are also suffering, Hurr said.
"They feel helpless and angry," she added.
Hurr has spent the past seven months telling families of victims that "we can`t make amputees run marathons, but we can help them walk slowly through life."
One of the most difficult stages is "phantom limb syndrome," she added, with which many victims struggle for years.
"As an amputee sits there for months waiting for the limb, the anger and sadness they feel for the loss of a limb gets replaced with almost an obsession of getting a new limb," she said. "They tell themselves, `if I just get that new limb, I will be happy again.`"
In Lebanon, amputees can wait for up to a year before receiving a prosthetic limb, a length of time that Hurr described as yet another blow to those already victimized.
"There is just not enough money channeled into prosthetics," she told The Daily Star, "even though it is their right to get one."