Care encourages teen at U-M clinic Son, mother endure ordeal of recovery Thursday, May 25, 2006 BY JO COLLINS MATHIS News Staff Reporter Two years ago, 9-year-old Majed Mousa and his 14-year-old brother, Zaman, left their house in Najaf, Iraq, to buy some groceries. They never made it to the market. A war-zone explosion killed Zaman and left Majed nearly blind, with shrapnel imbedded in his skin and eyes. His badly damaged right leg was later amputated below the knee. During his slow and painful recovery in Iraq, a despondent Majed told his mother it might have been better if he, too, had died. On Wednesday afternoon, Majed, now 11, was far from the war as he sat in a prosthetics clinic at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, managing an occasional smile as he talked with doctors through an interpreter. Majed (pronounced MAJ-ed) was fitted for a new leg at the U-M Orthotics and Prosthetics Center. As he tried out the device that will let him walk again, his smiling mother, Hayfa Abdul Kudim, took pictures. The prosthetics fitting followed eye surgery two weeks ago at U-M's Kellogg Eye Center. That procedure removed the metal and a cataract in his right eye, and dramatically restored some of his vision. While there is still a sense of sadness for Majed and his mother because the boy is permanently scarred, the medical treatment means he can hope to come closer to the kind of life he'd planned before the war injury. Now that he can see again, he can return to the school that expelled him after his private darkness caused him to fall one day. He was sent home with a note that said the school was not equipped to handle the handicapped. That was the hardest part of all, he said in Arabic through his translator, Fawzi El-Shafei, a U-M employee who has spent many hours with Majed and his mother since they arrived in the Detroit area April 24. They are now staying at the Ann Arbor Ronald McDonald House near the U-M hospital. Also staying at the house is another Iraqi woman whose toddler is hospitalized at U-M for treatment of a congenital bladder disorder. The medical care for the children is donated by U-M while the Palestine Children's Relief Fund pays for their transportation to this country and some living expenses. "I think it's really amazing to see how brave these moms are to come over to the states with their kids, because everything's new and they're here alone,'' said Rima Thierry, a volunteer with the Palestine Children's Relief Fund. "The community at large has come together to make sure these families feel at home in the United States and their needs are being met.'' Dr. David Zacks, a retina specialist at Kellogg, recalled the day he met Majed: The boy was sitting in a wheelchair and could see only well enough to distinguish whether the light was on or off. On his post-surgery visit, the difference was amazing. "He was on crutches, and he was able to make his own way out because he could see the door and see his way out of the office,'' said Zacks. "In fact, it was a little bit of a task to keep up with him. That was a very thrilling moment for everybody involved.'' Zacks is very happy with the results of the surgery. "Before, with the right eye, he could just make out some shadows,'' he said. "Now with the correct lens in front, he can see 20-100. So he can make out letters on the eye chart. It's not back to normal, but it's just two weeks (since the surgery).'' In another two weeks, Zacks will operate on Majed's left eye to remove shrapnel and the cataract, and reattach the retina. In a few days, Majed will get new glasses. "It's wonderful that the hospital is doing this,'' said Zacks. "My feeling is we're medical professionals and this is what we do. We take care of people.'' Bryan Grose, a prosthetist with the U-M Orthotics and Prosthetics Center, smiled Wednesday as Majed tried out his new aluminum leg. He told Majed, who will go through physical therapy to learn how to adjust to his new way of walking, that kids are sometimes rough on their prosthetics. Majed said a few words in Arabic, and his translator laughed. "He said, 'Not me!' '' said El-Shafei. Majed, who wants to be a doctor one day, said he misses his home. He named several people he wants to thank for helping him on his journey, then added in Arabic: "And I want to thank the American people.'' His mother, asked if she has any resentment toward Americans because they were involved in the battle that killed one son and wounded another, began to cry. "It's very difficult for every mother to see her son like that,'' she said, her tearful eyes fixed on her youngest child. "Very difficult.'' She and her husband, a truck driver, had five sons and two daughters. She said she is homesick for the rest of her family. It will be weeks and possibly months before she and Majed return to Iraq. Grose said that unless Iraqi doctors are able to make the adjustments there, Majed will need to return every six months to a year until he stops growing. His new leg will only support 100 pounds, Grose told Majed, who smiled. "I'm going to gain weight,'' the boy said in Arabic. "Unless I reduce my intake for the rice.'' Majed is the second Iraqi child to be treated at U-M for war-related injuries. In 2003, 15-year-old Hannan Shihab of Baghdad was treated at U-M for severe burns she suffered on the second night of the war after the walls of her house shook and a lantern fall off a shelf and ignited her clothes. She was believed to be the first Iraqi child injured during the war to receive care at a U.S. hospital. In the next few weeks, two Iraqi girls will arrive at U-M to receive treatment for health problems unrelated to the war. Grose said the charitable work fits U-M's mission statement to give back to the community. "And the world,'' he said.
