Wednesday 8 November
2am
My sister has a fever. She cannot raise her head and is hallucinating. We put wet towels on her head hoping her temperature will go down. We cannot call anyone or go anywhere for help.
I am grateful the situation is not dangerous. Last night, Ahmad told us about his relative who had to go to the hospital for problems with her blood pressure. He went with her and was shocked by how terrible the situation is. Families that fled to the hospital were everywhere, not only outside, but inside and in the hallways. Putting their mattresses down and sleeping while doctors and nurses move through them. After waiting for hours, the doctor said that his relative needs to be monitored for a couple of hours to make sure she is stable. There was no place for her to sit, so she waited outside the hospital.
Each of our cats is lying on one of the couches, except Jack who is in his box in the place where we are staying. He started trying to get out of it, which is great, but required complete attention from my side. We are sure he cannot see. During the days, I pass by kittens in the streets and cats that seem sick, but I cannot take them with me, we already have four cats and two are in a bad condition. I remind myself we cannot save every one, and hopefully, they would eventually survive.
I wonder about the doctors in the hospitals, receiving numbers of cases that they cannot handle even under normal circumstances. I am sure they have had to chose which one to save, or which person to provide care to. I cannot imagine the horrible situation they are going through right now, and the horror they live with when all of this is over.
5.30am
My sister has started getting better. I did not have a minute of sleep in over 24 hours. She woke up and tried to move a little, and I decided to close my eyes. Fifteen minutes later, I hear her screaming, “The cat is not here.” I open my eyes immediately, I check, Manara and Jack are in the room, the young cat is, too. Oh my God, it is the older one that’s missing.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes, I checked several times, she was on the balcony when we heard a very loud sound, the other cats got afraid and came in. She may have jumped.”
It is almost completely dark outside, I put the other cats in the carriers and we both go down looking for her. My sister running like crazy, crying her eyes out. I am sure we have lost her cat. Searching everywhere, using the flashlight on my mobile. I prayed that we find her, she has been through a lot of fear already, and now this, being alone. She must be terrified.
A neighbour leans out of a window and tells my sister that she saw “a white body” moving towards one of empty lots around us. The neighbour’s children, aged seven and nine, come out to start looking with us.
We were all running everywhere, not sure where we were heading. Finally, the older kid shouts: “I found her, I found her!” My sick sister who had a fever, ran so fast. I was closer than her, yet I arrived later.
We found our cat, hiding under a bush, not moving an inch. She was terrified. My sister hugged her, crying, apologising for not taking care of her.
We go back to the room. My eyes are wide open. Even though I am grateful that our cat is back, I know for sure, after my adrenaline, that I will not enjoy a minute of sleep for at least another 24 hours.
Noon
My friend calls me to check on us. She seems annoyed. “We went back to primitive times. We have no gas any more, so my whole family went outside and we started burning wood to cook. Can you imagine? We had our lunch by burning wood. And this is not a fun camping experience, this is the situation from now on. I am not sure what else we can endure. The situation is getting much worse.”
3pm
We are overwhelmed by numbers of people who are dying. Some we know, some are close to our friends, and some are close to us. The feeling of helplessness is overwhelming me, and I am unable to cry. I am unable to act based on my sadness, I am just acting “normal”, which is worrying me a lot.
I decide to listen to a love song. If this period is not the best for love songs, which is? The song is a soundtrack of a movie: “When Adam hugged Hanan … he had the whole world in his hands …. He became human.”
I couldn’t but think about a young couple I met days ago in the street. They got married six weeks ago. They had no “big story”, simply, a guy met a girl, they fell in love, everything went well, their families supported their relationship, and voilà, they got married. They did not know that the first chapter of their story, the honeymoon, would involve fleeing to save their lives and testing their love during these tough times. Instead of spending lovely time together and buying roses, they were trying to buy clothes because they couldn’t wash the ones they have left.
Another couple I knew, who have been married for a few months, met abroad, while both were on a scholarship to complete their masters. Everyone talked about their love story. The husband was killed few days ago, leaving his wife and a promising future behind. I cannot imagine how a twentysomething woman would process the experience of being a widow.
5pm
I receive a call from an international number. It is my friend’s sister, asking me to check on her brother and family since no one is answering her calls or messages. Though there is connection, it is extremely bad. We would send SMS messages, yet sometimes they never reach; to call someone, you try for almost an hour to get to them if you are lucky; and the internet connection (the mobile data) is almost unavailable, I receive messages five to six hours after being sent; and sometimes the next day. The funny thing is that it is easier to make an international call than a local one. After three hours I was able to check on her family. They are safe.
7pm
Manara is sitting on the top of the couch I am sitting on. Comparing Manara to Jack has made her seem healthier, even though she still needs a lot of care.
I apologised to her for having to give her box to Jack since he is very sick. I started describing what her life would be like if she were at our home right now, I told her that she would have many spaces she would have enjoyed. And I told her about the cat toys and beds we once had.
I noticed the tone I was using to talk about the house. As if I haven’t been there in many years, as if I am talking about a dream rather than a real place I was at almost a month ago.
I really miss my home. I miss my life. I miss myself.
