At one level, the medical doctors overheard that the occupying authorities, appointed by the Russians in session with Ukrainian collaborators, had change into sad with the association of funds. So these authorities began pressuring Volodymyr Todosenko, the appearing chief of the hospital, to reregister the power, putting it beneath Russian jurisdiction. Todosenko’s saving grace: There was no coherent process for such a switch, in keeping with Ukrainian specialists on the area, for the reason that Russians, who had sufficient hassle working the struggle, had not arrange a transparent system for governing the world. To some of the members of Snihurivka’s medical crew, this bureaucratic conundrum appeared like a foul joke harking back to a scene in a novel by Gogol.
Nonetheless, as hospital insiders recalled, the Russians persevered in attempting to take over the financial reins of the hospital and its staff. In the midst of August, these sources mentioned, representatives of the occupying authorities got here to Todosenko with a Russian FSB officer. The lads went into Todosenko’s workplace whereas two males with rifles had been positioned outdoors.
The Russian officer—in keeping with Todosenko, whose account was later corroborated by others—mentioned that after the weekend, the chief physician or one in every of his designees was to go to Kherson and at last reregister the hospital as a Russian facility. “In any other case,” the officer declared, “it should change into an execution pit.”
Todosenko, chastened, thought of his choices. Solely two different medical doctors remained in Snihurivka. And he couldn’t think about that Dvoretska, being a nurse, could be allowed to signal paperwork, given the hidebound traditions of Russian paperwork. Todosenko, sizing up the scenario and realizing he had no simple decisions left open to him, requested if he might resign and go away. He was knowledgeable that if that was his plan, he would first should report back to the so-called mayor of the occupying authorities. Todosenko mentioned that this was certainly his plan. And, taking his go away of the Russian officer, he knew that in deciding to resign he could be risking detention, interrogation, and much worse. Even so, behind his thoughts he suspected that, given the institutionalized chaos of Russian governance, it could take weeks or months for Snihurivka to be reregistered.
Todosenko gathered the hospital workers to elucidate his determination. He mentioned that his spouse, a nurse, instrumental to the functioning of the hospital, wanted to go together with him as nicely. “We got here to say goodbye and clarify our actions,” he advised the assembled groups. “We couldn’t simply flee. However there was no alternative left to us.” He promised to return as quickly as he might.
It took the Todosenko household weeks to make it safely into government-controlled territory, together with the time they spent in a processing heart within the Zaporizhzhya area. And as he had hoped, the process for reregistering the hospital stalled, dragging on and on.
The passage of time proved to be a blessing for the Todosenkos—and the hospital. By November, a marketing campaign by Ukrainian forces—coupled with a retreat by Russian troops, who refocused their efforts on the preventing to the east—put Snihurivka again in Ukrainian fingers. And after 9 devastating, grueling months, the city and hospital had been liberated.
Shortly thereafter, the Todosenkos returned to their posts, despite the fact that the city nonetheless had no electrical energy or working water, and even though the area had been closely mined and was not totally opened for civilians. They had been among the many exceptions. Of the prewar workers of 215 staff at Snihurivka hospital, solely a small quantity got here again. The remainder had settled elsewhere, realizing that a lot of their city had been decimated and understanding the tragic penalties of life in a struggle zone.
Upon his return, Volodymyr Todosenko realized what had transpired in his absence. For the ultimate three months of the occupation, Natalia Dvoretska, the chief nurse, took cost, whilst tensions with the occupying forces remained excessive. “They hated us and this hospital a lot,” recounted Natalia Libedenko, the top surgical nurse. “When there have been indicators they had been leaving, me and Natalia Anatoliivna [Dvoretska] thought that that they had left us for the top. As soon as, once they had been strolling round, looking out, they advised us they didn’t like how we behaved and mentioned that the subsequent time our workers didn’t smile at them, they’d undress us and chase us across the metropolis bare.”
