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“We knew that we needed to fight for our daughter’s life. The motivation to keep her alive and safe no matter what saved our lives,” Oct. 7 survivor Ellay Golan told JNS at the Sheba Medical Center in Ramat Gan on Tuesday.
On that terrible Saturday, Golan, a doctor interning at the Soroka Medical Center in Beersheba, was at home in Kibbutz Kfar Aza with her husband Ariel and their one-year-old daughter, Yael.
Around 6:30 a.m. as the air-raid alarms started, Golan and her husband rushed to their daughter’s room, the home’s safe room, and waited. Soon, they started seeing messages on the kibbutz WhatsApp group from residents reporting not only rocket strikes but also automatic-weapon fire.
“We locked the shelter’s door and prepared to defend ourselves with kitchen knives,” said Golan.
An hour later., a neighbor texted that her husband, a member of the kibbutz defense team, had been shot in the leg and needed help. As a doctor, Golan’s first instinct was to rush out, but did not dare when she learned that there were dozens of terrorists swarming that area.
“I have a feeling of guilt that I still carry, because he died. I know that if I’d tried to help, my daughter would not have a mother. I have mixed feelings of guilt and hope for my daughter,” said Golan.
At 12:50 p.m., they heard Arabic outside the house. They had placed a cabinet against the door of the shelter, but the terrorists tried to break in.
After failing to gain entry, the terrorists started a fire at the entrance. Golan and Ariel ran through the flames with Yael. Then the terrorists threw a gas tank at them.
“That was the moment we thought of giving up. I had 60% burns on my body, my husband had 45% burns and my daughter 30%. I held my daughter and saw she was still alive so I told my husband we had to keep fighting and save her,” Golan said.
Golan ran into the shower, and doused down her daughter, herself and her husband, when the terrorists threw another gas tank into the burning house.
As the building began to collapse, the terrorists fled. Golan and her family were able to make it out, and hid in the kibbutz farm.
When Yael fell into a faint at around 3:30 p.m., Ellay and Ariel made their way to the entrance of the kibbutz, where they found IDF soldiers who took them to the Sheba Medical Center at Tel HaShomer.
Golan was sedated for 52 days. Her lung collapsed from smoke inhalation and she had a 50/50 percent chance of surviving. She underwent rehabilitation at Sheba. When she was sufficiently recovered, she continued her internship at Sheba. She is due to move back to Soroka to work in the ER there.
“The staff here fought for my life,” she said.
Both her husband and her daughter, who is now two-and-a-half, have recovered and they all currently live in Ramat Gan near the hospital.
‘Suddenly you see your superhero on the ground’
Meanwhile, on the second floor of the Sheba geriatric building, which was converted into a rehabilitation center for soldiers and hostages, it is not uncommon to run into limping soldiers out on the terrace, where Israeli flags dance in the wind and stickers in memory of fallen soldiers cover the wall.
Liron Aharon, a social worker who is the head of wellness and patient experience, told JNS that 35 soldiers were currently undergoing rehabilitation there. Aharon is engaged in improving the connection between the medical staff, the patients and the families.
Prof. Israel Dudkiewicz, head of soldiers’ rehab at Sheba Medical Center in Ramat Gan. Credit: Amelie Botbol
“The mothers always come to me and say ‘this is not my son, I don’t know how to talk to him, he’s angry, yelling and shouting. He goes into his room all the time and doesn’t come out,’” she said.
“We need to help them find new purpose, new goals and something to move their lives forward. We set goals. For instance, today I want the patient to walk 500 meters without a wheelchair, lift his arm, or brush his teeth alone, depending on the wound or injury,” Aharon related.
“The focus is on getting them back to functioning, moving, walking and doing everything they can on their own. It’s a big change, involving a lot of conversation,” she added.
JNS met Dr. Liran Levy, a lung transplant specialist and combat medic who volunteered to serve in Gaza.
“I felt that I received much more than I gave,” Levy told JNS.
Dr. Liran Levy, a lung-transplant specialist and combat medic who served in the Gaza Strip. Credit: Amelie Botbol.
“I was amazed to see how people in their 20s could be so professional, so dedicated, so motivated. They knew what they were doing and were not out for blood,” he said.
“Throughout that month, I forgot I was a doctor. Usually, there is distance from patients. After a month, I became more of their friend and I looked at them as if they were my kids,” he added.
Before he left Gaza, Levy went out with the unit to check a building in search of terrorists.
“Four soldiers went into the building before us. Suddenly, the shooting started. Once I saw the first soldier on the ground, I became oblivious to the shooting around me, I wasn’t afraid, the doctor in me came out,” he related.
“He was on the ground with his leg torn apart, in shock; he was not screaming. Suddenly you see your superhero on the ground asking for someone to save him, and I became his,” he added. Luckily, all four soldiers eventually recovered.
The next day, Levy left Gaza.
“Having spent time with soldiers, I am much more respectful of them. It’s part of our job, when we fight terrorists who hide behind civilians, to do our best not to cause harm to any innocent bystanders,” said Levy.
Published September 26, 2024, JNS