The beauty of war lies in the fact that everything that used to be worth something before no longer holds value. The abundance of people desperate to survive keeps the war valuable and lives not.
Gold was easily attainable, - another benefit of war – which meant it had little value. In fact, whatever gold, land, houses and money my parents had was no longer of any value. These spoils of war were easy to attain for the soldiers, and kept it desirable for the the countries in command to continue the war.
"Zepter dishes are one of the most extravagant collections of Swiss made designs, perfect for those who want to enjoy healthy and well made food."
My mother’s latest Zepter collection included a set of pots and an ‘electric log fireplace’ kitchen construction.
After a set of ten payments, we were to receive our dishes with the fireplace. My mother, a former lawyer, and an obsessive when it came to saving her receipts, had saved the pages proving she only had two more payments left.
The Zepter representatives were in the center of Split. My mother was able to request reimbursement, with only a small loss of ten percent on the money already paid.
This money saved my family. They could afford food and a place to stay.
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“We signed the paper.”
The last two were called “experimental bomb” surgeries. Small “bombs” were placed inside my left hip and my stomach in hopes of removing the now developed infections.
I had sepsis again and the last surgery dislocated my hip and melted away the rest of my cartilage. My intestines did not work properly and I could barely eat. I lost most of my hair, the skin on my spine, and the back of my head was covered with bed sores. My knees, ankles, and hips began to fuse together.
I did not sleep anymore. I could not sleep anymore.
My parents made one of their hardest decisions and signed the piece of paper forbidding these doctors from performing any more unendorsed surgeries. The official copy said they refused further treatment. The next week, after three months, Denmark welcomed our exile. It was a miracle.
“Jesus Kristus.”
They placed me in an isolation room, and for a year, the outside world became a view from a window.
My body was still too weak for surgery.
I weighed 33.4 Kilograms and stood 172 centimeters. My left lung was smaller, as I hadn’t slept or lain on my left side for over three months. My knees and hips locked in a ninety degree position, making it hard to do anything other than sit. My left leg was twelve centimeters shorter due to the first hip surgery. Now clearly visible beneath the stitches, my bladder signaled to me when I should use the bathroom. Four vertebrae were exposed at the end of my spine and the doctors feared my puss-filled head would cause meningitis.
“Once you get better we will get out of here and get us some fishes,” another patient said.
In the elevator, the mirror showed a person they said was me. ‘Fish’ is slang for ‘young girls’, the equivalent of ‘chicks’. This patient’s intentions were to make me smile, and his assumption I was boy certainly did.
An intense regiment of exercises and a healthy diet, along with the fact this hospital only cared for my well-being, saved me now. My infections, greeted at first with a few Danish-pronounced “Jesus Christs,” were all treated successfully by my new doctors.
Thank you.
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Editor's note: The Bosnian War followed the breakup of the Republic of Yugoslavia. Mainly a territorial conflict, the war, which lasted three years, from 1992-1995, was fought between various religious and ethnic factions. Some calculations place casualty figures in the hundreds of thousands. For more go here.
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To be continued in a fortnight...