Israel’s secret heart
An extraordinary group of medics, operating in the midst of turmoil, is building bridges by saving lives
FLASHES OF blueand-red light up the monitor as the ultrasound probe is run across five-year-old Matti’s chest, indicating the direction the blood is being pumped through the Iraqi boy’s young body. One week ago, it was going the wrong way.
His father, Rasan Slawa, looks on smiling, one hand laid protectively on his son’s shoulder, as the doctor tells him everything is as it should be. It was not long ago he feared he might lose Matti, but after life-saving heart surgery at Wolfson Medical Centre in Holon, Israel, the hole in his heart has been repaired and blood can now flow freely through a widened artery.
It is the second journey the pair have had to make. Earlier this year, the Christian family of seven were forced to flee their home in Northern Iraq when Daesh invaded the village.
“I was afraid to come at the beginning because I thought there is no relationship between Iraq and Israel,” says Mr Slawa.
From the relative safety of Erbil, in Iraqi Kurdistan, Mr Slawa met a doctor who was willing to perform Matti’s surgery. “But he said there was only a one in ten chance he will survive”, says Mr Slawa. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take and the family could not afford to pay for surgery. He thought he was out of options when a second doctor with ties to the Christian Israeli charity Shevet Achim connected him to the hospital we are in today.
The father-of-five says the change in Matti after surgery was almost immediate. “He is much more active than before and he has a more relaxed heartbeat”.
As he has spent the past few weeks in Israel, I ask if his views have changed. “Of course — if I could, I would come to live here,” he declares, before adding that he has been telling his family about his experiences, “I wish all of them could come and be here”.
Such is the beauty of Save A Child’s Heart, the charity whose medical team performed Matti’s surgery and treatment. Not only did SACH save a life, it has built a small but significant bridge between Israel and another country. The Israeli-based charity that brings children from developing countries to Israel to have life-saving cardiac surgery will celebrate its 20th anniversary this year. In a quest to find out more, I went to Holon, south of Tel Aviv, to visit the medical centre and children’s home that has so far welcomed children from 50 countries around the globe.
My visit begins in the operating room where four-year-old Najima from Tanzania is undergoing openheart surgery. Three surgeons are bent over her tiny frame on the operating table. An assortment of tubes connect the patient to a heartand-lung machine, with a table of scary looking surgical implements alongside. Four more medical staff control the machines and assist where necessary. It’s a small glimpse into the complex work carried out here every day.
Lead surgeon at SACH and director of the hospital’s cardio-thoracic surgery department, Dr Lior Sasson, says he carries out around 250 heart operations each year, performing one or two a day three times a week, sometimes remaining in surgery for up to eight hours straight.
He has been involved with SACH since it began in 1995 and worked under the founder and former lead surgeon Dr Ami Cohen, who tragically died in 2001 while climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. “I found it, to begin with, very intriguing and challenging. I had just started to do cardiac surgery so it was medically challenging, and the humanitarian aspect was fascinating,” says Dr Sasson.
One of his roles at SACH is to train postgraduate doctors from developing countries so that they can set up their own clinics at home. In addition to his two Israeli students, he is currently training an Ethiopian doctor and two Palestinians.
A few weeks ago, Dr Sasson and his team travelled to Tanzania to support his former surgical student in his new clinic. “He did some surgeries on his own with my current Ethiopian pupil. That was really great to see: two of my students working together to save a child’s life. It is a great satisfaction to know our work is going to be amplified by their ability to save other children,” he says.
SACH frequently visits the countries it aids to hold screenings for sick children, follow-ups and surgery.
SACH’s work is interwoven with the paediatric work of the hospital, meaning the entire medical team, from the cardiologists to the nurses, put in extra hours to help the SACH children for no extra salary.
Dr Yayehyirad Mekonnen from Addis, Ethiopia has been on the SACH training programme since 2012. In two years’ time he will return home to become the first paediatric heart surgeon in Ethiopia. He tells me how difficult it is in Africa to set up a similar programme: “You need to train a team, and you need machines, infrastructure and drugs which are not readily available. The government is on the way to make things easier but there is a big gap. But we are very determined and I am very lucky to have the support of SACH; and not just me but the country as a whole. It won’t be easy but we can confront all these problems and create something.”
In Israel, there are seven million people and five paediatric cardiac surgeons, whereas in Ethiopia there are 70 million people and no heart surgeons. Training a surgeon can take up to five years, and SACH also undertakes shorter programmes for other medical staff. In total, 13 are currently training with them. Today SACH has treated 3,700 children but it started with just two, and was born from the “crazy idea” of founder Dr Ami Cohen.
Dr Sion Houri, another founding member of SACH and director of the paediatric intensive care unit, explains: “In 1995, after being in Holon hospital for one month, Dr Cohen approached me with what seemed like a crazy idea to bring children from Ethiopia here to operate.
“We started with two, then two
more. The thing that got us hooked was when we went back to Ethiopia and saw the effect it had on those children. When Ami died, it cemented us to the programme — to do whatever we could to make sure the programme stays alive forever.”
As Dr Houri takes me on a tour of the ICU, I see children from Israel, Ethiopia and Tanzania recovering from heart surgery side by side.
“The only colour we don’t like is blue,” says Dr Houri, before explaining, “if a child’s lips are blue, that means there is not enough oxygen in the blood”. A headscarved Ethiopian woman approaches while we are talking. Smiling, she says her child is better and ready to go home. Clasping his hand she says, “Thank you. Thank God”.
Around 50 per cent of the children SACH treat come from the Palestinian Authority, Jordan, Iraq and Morocco. When I ask Dr Houri if politics ever get in the way, he says: “It is a hospital, we don’t have time for nonsense.” Last summer, during the war in Gaza, missiles were falling as close as 20 metres from the hospital, says Dr Houri, but the charity managed to get Palestinian children to the centre. He adds: “During the intifada years there were hard times, but we are trying, as much as we can, not to stop our activities, to keep them unconnected from the craziness outside.”
At SACH’s weekly clinic for Palestinian patients I meet Fatima Sarsour, an Israeli Arab from Kfar Qassem, who accompanies the patients to act as a translator. She began as a SACH volunteer seven years ago and was hired as staff a few months later.
She says: “Families whocomehere don’t want political issues. They can separate between soldiers and the border, and doctors. It doesn’t matter. It is about saving lives here.’’ She is in charge of a weekly support group for Israeli and Palestinian families. “I think SACH is like a bridge between everyone. Not just Israel and Palestinians, but the whole world,” she says. “They all have a commonthing:a child with heart disease. At the end of the day, they understandweare all humans. They have the sameproblems.”
Despite
Families who come here don’t want politics
the 30 degree heat, Intesar Belishi from Gaza is dressed in a head-to-toe black robe with a coloured headscarf. She is here for a follow-up check on her 12-year-old son Mohammed. They had to obtain permission to enter Israel but, thanks to the SACH administration team, permissions are rarely denied.
“Mohammed is normal now, like other children. I am very grateful to SACH,” says Ms Belishi.
When I ask if she was worried about the political situation before she came, she replies: “No, I was only thinking about Mohammed and his situation. Despite everything, I thought only about him.”
It is this transcending of politics that gives SACH its wide appeal. SACH supporters have discovered, despite hostility to Israeli politics, people will support the charity, and awareness has been growing. More donations, as well as support from the state, have meant better equipment and a new purpose-built children’s home.
The next stage is the building of a children’s hospital in the Wolfson grounds to incorporate all of the paediatric departments and eliminate the long walks between buildings. SACH already has funds for stage one of construction and, in October, to celebrate the 20th anniversary, the cornerstone will be laid.
At the nearby children’s home, I am given the tour by housemother Laura Kafif. This is where the children and mothers from Africa stay for the weeks leading up to and after surgery.
She says: “We try to make it as much like a home as possible so that they feel happy and safe here.”
Big, clean dormitory-style bedrooms mean children never have to spend the night alone, and the playroom is filled with toys and games. The mothers are encouraged to use the spacious kitchen to cook so the children can eat something familiar. It can house up to 60 people — a far cry from the charity’s beginnings, when Dr Cohen would take his patients home to care for them.
In the airy downstairs area, prima- ry-coloured window panels keep the room bright. When I enter, a volunteer is helping a child make pictures at a table covered in art supplies.
Ms Kafif says there are three important words in the house that all the children understand. Kula and Kulala, which mean “eat”, and “rest” respectively in Swahili. The third is the Hebrew balagan — which appears to be in practice outside in the garden where children with telltale scars on their chests are running around playing games, full of energy. Most of these children had their surgery a few weeks ago and will soon be ready to return home.
Kenyan mother Lisa King-Ori introduces me to her three-year-old boy Theon who was born with a hole in his heart. “The surgery was not available in Kenya, I would have had to go to India or Europe and it would have been very expensive,” she tells me.
“I was told by doctors in Kenya he would have died by 20 if not treated,” she says, before adding with a wide smile, “Now he should have a long, long life”.
Eight-year-old Meryem from Ethiopia is recovering well and will go home that weekend.
Dressed all in pink, she sums up neatly the difference SACH has made to her life: “Before when I play, I cannot run — now I can.”
For details www.saveachildsheart.org
We want the children to feel happy and safe here