Anaesthetic

I was in such awe of the women in the town, because unlike myself, most of the women and men used to visit the dentist to have their teeth filled or pulled without the use of any anaesthetic. Fawaz would ask the dentist, much to his amusement, to give me a needle for any dental work. To suffer any unnecessary pain was not something I was used to. On one occasion Fawaz's brother was swimming in the Mediterranean sea whilst he was taking a break during his compulsory army service and he cut his foot on an extremely sharp and jagged rock. Without much ado he simply sewed up the the gash using a needle and thread.

During the European Economic Community embargo placed upon Syria in the early 1990s there was a shortage of essential medicines which included anaesthetics used by dentists. I can remember the agony I was forced to endure for two weeks due to an infected tooth and the dentist saying to me that he wasn't sure whether or not it needed to be removed. The pain was so severe that I was taking panadol every two hours. There were many occasions where I'd kneel on the floor with my head in my lap and pray for help. Finally I was referred to a dentist in Hama who immediately performed an operation on my lower left jaw for an infected, impacted wisdom tooth. However he did not have enough anaesthetic to last the whole operation so I was crying with the pain I was feeling as soon as he finished the last stitch and the agony I experienced on the journey home was unbearable. My face was purple and swollen for at least a week.

A few months later I suffered a miscarriage. I wasn't aware that I was pregnant when I was taking the painkillers which had caused distress to the foetus. Again, I experienced a nightmare trip to the recently opened private hospital where the keys to the operating theatre cupboard had been accidentally taken home by the night nurse. We had to wait for them to be returned before my operation could take place. Again, I was under anaesthetic but this time I was aware of the surgeon scraping my womb and unable to move or tell anybody that I was still awake. Not long after the remaining anaesthetic wore off I was on my way home on a cold winters night and grateful I had survived the most horrific haemorrhage and unforgettable nightmare.

That is not to say that everyone had my experiences. I definitely think that it was an unfortunate set of circumstances.

Azzam came home one morning crying with pain because he had cut his ankle and foot on a broken glass bottle that was hidden in the grass.

The cut was so deep that I could see his bone. Fawaz had already left the house and I was alone. I carried Azzam downstairs and stood in the street frantically calling out "help" in English. Luckily, a concerned young man could understand the distress I was in, so he approached Azzam and I and took Azzam from my arms and hailed down the nearest motorbike rider, then hopped on the bike and carried him to the local hospital. Skelbieh folk didn't need telephones in times of emergency. The word was sent via passing traffic to find Fawaz as his son was in hospital and so be it, he was found. In less than half an hour he was scrubbed up and watching the surgeon perform a sensitive operation sewing Azzam's nerves and flesh together. He performed the job of a neurosurgeon because in a small town far from the city of Hama and with little time to repair the damage done to Azzams ankle and foot the surgeon did what he had to do.

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