 Patient
Stories
In
war-weary Nagorno-Karabagh,
the AECP doctors dealt
first hand with the high number
of injuries from landmines
and other explosives,
especially among children.
“A miracle,” said the
parents of one victim.
A miracle that the AECP
Mobile Eye Hospital just
happened to be in Karabagh
with a team of ophthalmologists
on the horrific day two of
their three young children
were involved in a tragic
landmine accident.
May
3, 2004.
Three
o’clock in the
afternoon.
Eleven-year-old
Albert Ashot Arstamyan
and his sister,
nine-year-old Tsovinar,
were playing at
a favorite playground
for village children—Ttot,
or Mulberry Park in Gishi.
Tsovinar saw something
on the ground and picked
it up. Albert immediately
recognized the pellet
bomb (forbidden by international
treaties) and told his
sister, “Quickly. Throw
it away.” Tsovinar tossed
the bomb, but it didn’t
explode, which piqued
Albert’s curiosity. Maybe
he made a mistake and
it wasn’t dangerous.
Deciding to have a closer
look, Albert picked up
the deadly piece of metal
and tried to break it
with a stone. The explosion
killed Albert and seriously
injured Tsovinar.
Wounded
and bleeding, Tsovinar
left her dying brother
in the field. Slowly
she crawled for help,
reaching the fence that
separates the field from
the highroad. But, as
she climbed over the
iron road fence, Tsovinar
lost consciousness.
One tiny leg caught on
the fence. A passing
motorist noticed the
small child hanging on
the fence and rushed
her to the hospital.
Tsovinar was operated
on for a ruptured liver
and multiple wounds,
but the full extent of
her injuries was not
known until she was able
to talk.
A
few days after surgery
Tsovinar complained about
something in her eye.
She needed to see a specialist.
By sheer coincidence,
the Mobile Eye Hospital
was in Karabagh. The
child, unable to walk,
was cradled in her father's
arms as he carried her
to a team of waiting
doctors on the MEH.
The
doctors agreed. Tsovinar’s
injury—a piece of shrapnel
precariously imbedded
in the corner of her
eye—required immediate
surgery under a general
anesthetic. Following
travel arrangements made
for them and paid for
by the EyeCare Project,
Tsovinar and
her parents, still reeling
from the loss of Albert,
made the seven-hour drive
to Yerevan (leaving three-year
old sister Aspram with
neighbors) where doctors
at the Malayan Ophthalmological
Center were awaiting
her arrival so they could
operate and remove the
piece of metal, at no
cost to the family.
Today,
Tsovinar’s eye has healed
and her leg is improving
with therapy. Though
the family continues
to struggle with the
agony of Albert’s death,
“at least we were able
to reduce the family's
pain with Tsovinar’s
surgery,” said Dr. Ohanesian,
head of the surgical
team.
“I
will never forget
the smile from
the child and the
gratitude of her
parents. They sustain
all of us and make
our efforts worthwhile,”
DR.
ROGER OHANESIAN CHAIRMAN
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“I
will never forget the
smile from the child
and the gratitude of
her parents. They sustain
all of us and make our
efforts worthwhile,”
said Dr. Ohanesian.
“The
sheer pathos that these
injuries create cannot
be overstated. Scores
of children who have
been blinded and have
lost fingers, legs and
hands are seen all over
Stepanakert.”
AECP
doctors removed Tsovinar’s
father cataract on June
28, less than two months
after the tragedy. Diagnosed
when he brought his daughter
to the MEH, Ashot didn’t
want surgery. "Today
the doctor removed my
patch. It’s hard to think
about anything but my
child, but I am glad
the doctors encouraged
me. I can see now with
my both eyes.” Sadly,
AECP physicians often
see people who have accepted
blindness as their fate.
They are either unaware
they suffer from treatable
eye disease, or unable
to get treatment. Together
we are changing this
by making eye care available,
especially in the far
regions with the MEH,
and through public education.
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Mine
Accident
