Narrative Inquiry in Bioethics

The war in Ukraine started not in 2022, but in 2014. Some of my relatives have been living under occupation for the past nine years. After a year of occupation, parts of Ukrainian society stopped paying attention.

But on February 24^th 2022, that changed. The whole country was awakened by missile attacks in almost every region. Kyiv, the capital, was heavily shelled by air strikes, and from the North, South, and Eastern borders, Russian troops entered our territory with long convoys of military vehicles. In one moment, we all woke up in a country at war.

I have experience working in conflict zones. In 2017, I worked in Iraq in Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps for one year. On the 25th of February, 2022, my colleagues and founders of STEP-IN, the NGO with whom I used to work in Iraq, initiated a Zoom call. We decided immediately to start work in Ukraine—without any funding. Although my only previous work experience was being a doctor, I ended up taking on managerial responsibilities and established a Ukrainian branch of STEP-IN. I was also mother of a 1.5-year-old girl in a country of war. To say it was challenging is an understatement.

In the first week of the full-scale invasion, STEP-IN opened a crisis intervention point on the Ukrainian-Slovak border crossing, where people could get psychological help and warm meals. We provided shelter and a place to sleep for those waiting in overcrowded border points.

As soon as we received our first grant, we started a mobile medical team in the Western part of Ukraine, where thousands of IDPs were relocated. They were living in schools, huge sports halls without any privacy, kindergartens, churches, and at the end, any building that could provide shelter from winter weather.

My colleague and I assessed the region and settled on ten permanent, consistent locations for biweekly visits. Aside from my role as coordinator, I also worked as a doctor for the first few weeks because we struggled to recruit any Ukrainian doctors. However, within a month, we had a full team with a psychotherapist and medical doctor. The team traveled through the Trascarpathian region in Western Ukraine and provided free consultations with physicians and psychotherapists as well as medicines, hygiene kits, and social services.

After the de-occupation of northern Ukraine, the tension and hopelessness seem to have decreased. People started smiling on the streets. I feel like I can finally breathe and live. At the beginning of the war, my husband and I, with our young daughter, fled from Kyiv and were not sure we would ever be able to return. After the de-occupation, life started to feel more stable. During one of STEP-IN’s assessment trips, my husband and I visited our home. In such a situation, very small things unexpectedly become [End Page E1] very valuable to me. I was so happy to see pictures on the wall, a ceramic bowl I brought from Iraq and our child’s favorite toys.

The project in the Transcarpathian region had been ongoing for a few months, and in October 2022, I went to work there for a week as a physician to cover for someone else. We were searching for a new candidate and didn’t want our beneficiaries to remain without medical help, especially in the peak flu season.

There is a day that I remember vividly in all its details. I remember the smell in the room and how the light from the window lay on my patient’s face. It was Tuesday, and each Tuesday, we went to the Protestant church guesthouse, where around sixty IDPs were hosted. The church was one of my favorite places to work because the administration was very supportive and caring toward IDPs. Unfortunately, that was not the case everywhere. From the moment I arrived at a location, it was apparent how the IDPs were treated. Their eyes were the best...