It was doubly difficult for a family doctor to work during the war. Even going to work during the attacks was risky and scary. I had to go running into the basements of houses.

During the attacks, employees often gathered in a windowless room in an outpatient clinic. When they fired hard, they went down to the basement.

It was not often necessary to provide direct assistance after the attacks. The very first attack, when shells hit very close to houses and courtyards, was on October 30, 2014.

On this day, a woman died in my presence. Then they brought a young woman who had been shot in the knee to the medical center on a stretcher. The case was  complex, traumatic and painful,  there was large blood loss, fear, horror in the eyes. Before the ambulance arrived, the staff and I made every effort to ensure that the patient survived.

Then two more women with shrapnel wounds came, they were also very scared, did not know what to do. I had to calm them down, give them help, send them to the hospital, but I didn't have to show them that it was scary.

After this tragic day, some of the employees did not come to work and went to other cities.

We are mostly approached by people with their own problems, troubles. I remember the tragedy in the house of some elderly people. They called me to come over the phone, everyone knows my number, but they didn't think that there was a heavy shelling, and they had to go through the whole village. I couldn't refuse, I couldn't leave them. So I had to run fast.

It turned out that my grandmother fell into the basement in the corridor, hurt her leg badly, could not get out by herself, and screamed for my grandfather. And that, apparently from grief (he is disabled, without a leg) he died, the heart could not stand it. It was necessary to neighbors, men to pull out the grandmother and send to hospital. My grandfather was buried without her.

There were other tragic cases, they can not be forgotten. We dream of one thing, ask, and hope that this will not happen again.