4:08 AM @samarabuelouf I'm trying to find the words that can express what I’m feeling… not just for Ihab, but because the effort to get Ihab out of Gaza to receive the treatment he so desperately needs—and cannot find in Gaza—has taught me a huge lesson.
This past month has been extremely difficult, moment by moment, minute by minute. The immense difficulty of traveling, and the border closures in the face of the wounded who need treatment—like Ihab and even more critical cases—how many mothers' hearts and families are waiting for the chance to receive medical care outside of Gaza?
I’ve lived through extremely tough and complex nights and details, reaching out to anyone who might possibly have even a shred of information about evacuating patients. And perhaps some friends can attest to that.
But what’s even more painful and cruel than all of that… is the depletion of a medication that Ihab used to take in Gaza. This medicine is essential and must not be stopped for three months. I reached out to everyone I knew who might help me get this medication. And the answer was always the same: 'The medication is not available.'
The pharmacy shelves that I have corresponded with were empty, waiting for medicine to come in. Those four days were extremely harsh, as Ihab’s suffering intensified due to the lack of medication, and the alternative treatment was ineffective.
That made me imagine—and my heart ached—for every injured person who lacks the medicine or treatment they need. How do they endure the minutes, the hours, the days?
Why should the injured or the sick be deprived of their right to receive treatment?
And what deepens this pain and sorrow even further is the lack of healthy food, and the intensifying famine.
What is the level of pain that Ihab and all the injured and wounded are going through?
I feel that life becomes so small and worthless in the face of losing humanity and compassion in this way."**
😔💔
#ايهاب_لازم_يتعالج 
