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Ivana, One Year and Nine Months Old, Suffered Third-Degree Burns from Israeli Bombings in Lebanon (Clotilde Bigot)

Her name is Ivana. She is one year and nine months old. On September 23rd, while playing with her sister and a friend on the veranda of their home in Deir Qanoun al-Nahr, in southern Lebanon, a missile struck their garden.

“It was my daughter's friend’s birthday. Along with her parents, we had decided to have a simple breakfast to mark the occasion, even though there was a war,” explains Fatima, 36, the mother of Ivana and Rahaf. “Suddenly, we heard a huge explosion. The missile hit our balcony… To save them, I did the unthinkable—I pushed them through the window.”

All three girls were injured. Rahaf, seven years old, spent three weeks in the hospital for surface burns. She is now living with her paternal grandparents.

Ivana, however, was not as fortunate. “Half of her face, part of her scalp, as well as her arms and legs suffered third-degree burns,” explains Dr. Sleiman, a plastic surgeon at Geitaoui Hospital in northern Beirut, where Ivana is being treated.

Ivana first spent three weeks in a hospital near her village, “but that worsened her condition,” says Dr. Sleiman. When she arrived at Geitaoui, she had infected wounds that put her life in danger. “Today, she is stable, and in a few days, we will begin skin grafting,” reassures Dr. Sleiman.

Ivana is one of five severely burned patients in the third basement level of the hospital. Next to her room, an 11-year-old boy is also receiving treatment for burns on his face and arms. He, too, is expected to recover.

“We receive burn patients with injuries ranging from 30% to 95% of their bodies. Unfortunately, those who arrive almost entirely burned do not survive. A woman passed away a few days ago—she was completely burned,” recalls Dr. Sleiman.

Since the hospital is not on the front lines of the conflict, patients arrive after being initially treated in other hospitals that lack the proper facilities for such injuries.

“We mainly see patients coming in with multiple infections, high and persistent fever, and inadequate prior treatment. So we have to start from scratch,” explains Daniella Said, a nurse who has worked at Geitaoui for two years.

“Our primary role is monitoring. We closely observe Ivana, for example, checking her temperature every two hours and monitoring her urine and diarrhea to prevent complications like septic shock caused by a systemic infection,” says Daniella.

Some patients, due to delayed treatment, have developed necrotic limbs, requiring amputation.

As Dr. Sleiman walks down the hallway, a man arrives on a stretcher, accompanied by a Lebanese Civil Defense paramedic. His legs are burned, and one has an external fixator.

“Look at him. There’s no protection on his wounds, even though he has third-degree burns and an external fixator. This will inevitably become infected.”

The patient is admitted to the ward and will receive treatment here.

A Hospital Struggling Amid Crisis

“This unit opened in 1992, at the end of the Lebanese Civil War. It has nine rooms, but from time to time, we need to increase our capacity. So we opened an additional space on the ground floor with 16 extra beds.” Critical patients start on the -3 level and move up as their condition improves. “On average, patients stay here for one to two months,” says Dr. Sleiman.

“Severe burns require immediate specialized care, massive hydration, antibiotic therapy, debridement, and fasciotomy,” explains Sister Hadia, co-director of the hospital.

These treatments are costly, and Lebanon’s bankrupt government provides little support. “The direct costs of treating burn patients amount to $900 per day, yet the government only reimburses us $450—and even that comes with long delays… I hope we don’t reach the point where we have to turn patients away,” laments Sister Hadia. Geitaoui Hospital is a private, non-profit institution. “In most countries, public hospitals handle severe burn cases. But in Lebanon, we are expected to take over that role, which is simply not feasible.”

The hospital, with its 650 employees, is also facing staff shortages. “Due to the crisis, many doctors have left Lebanon. This hospital is a teaching institution affiliated with the Lebanese University in Hadath, in the southern suburbs. Many students who interned here had to flee their homes and can no longer come to work.”

Sister Hadia is pleading for international organizations to provide financial aid to the hospital. “We have not received any help yet because the world sees this as just a conflict between Israel and Hezbollah. But that’s not the full picture…”