From the Middle East, for love

Boy shot in Gaza Strip finds medical help and homes to stay in

07/20/2003

By MARINA TRAHAN MARTINEZ / The Dallas Morning News

Ahmad Zanoun's eyes became so swollen after four hours of neurosurgery that he couldn't see.

But he could hop out of bed and pretend to get a call from his dad on his toy cellular phone.

"How are you?" he asked in Arabic. "I had an operation and I can get up and walk," he said into the phone. Then, to his mother: "He hung up on me. The calling card ran out."

His surgery was Thursday, and the 4-year-old is recovering exceptionally well, nurses said, but that may be what you'd expect from a child who has already survived a bullet through the head.

"Thanks, Allah," he rejoiced.

Back in his bed at Baylor Medical Center at Garland, he smiled, played with his talking Teddy, relished his vanilla ice cream and ate candy.

And when he heard his mother, Amina, retell the story of how her son was hurt, Ahmad paused over his Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, and became quiet and attentive as if the tale of a strange child were being told.

In April 2002, an Israeli soldier's stray bullet in the Gaza Strip hit Ahmad, then 3, in the lower left back of his head and exited just above his left eye.

"It was his sister's end-of-the-year party so the children were out from school," Mrs. Zanoun said through a translator. "We were walking around 1:15 p.m. and he tripped and fell down. I thought he tripped over a rock. Then I saw blood coming out like it was coming from a hose. I thought he had cut himself on a piece of glass or a rock," she said, breaking into tears.

Mrs. Zanoun thought they were a safe distance away from gunfire, 1 ½ kilometers from the barbed wire that cordons off the Rafah refugee camp.

She thought she had lost her youngest son after seeing pieces of his brain and skull litter the road.

"It was very hot, and I started waving for a car or someone to help," she said.

A car stopped, and the driver took Ahmad and his mother to the closest hospital.

"He was barely breathing," Mrs. Zanoun said. "His uncles had already prepared his funeral and casket."

Ahmad remembers the wound.

"It hurt," he says, simply.

The hospital couldn't help much, so Mrs. Zanoun took her boy to Tel Hashomer Medical Center in Israel. Doctors there stopped the bleeding.

Mrs. Zanoun said she appreciated the help the hospital gave, regardless of which side of the Middle East conflict hurt or helped her son.

"I felt pretty good about it," she said. "I wanted my son to be healthy and stay alive."

He remained in a coma for more than a month. When he awoke, he couldn't remember anything about his 10 brothers and sisters.

About one more month passed before he could mutter one or two words and began recognizing his family.

"He pointed to his sister but couldn't say the name," Mrs. Zanoun said.

Ahmad recovered but was left paralyzed in his right arm, leg and part of his face. He was also blind in his right eye.

He was sent to a hospital in Germany for further treatment. The doctors were stunned at Ahmad's second chance at life, asking his mother, "Why is he alive?"

Ahmad's story caught the attention of the Palestine Children's Relief Fund, an Ohio-based nonprofit organization that arranges for children in the Middle East to be treated in the United States.

The organization helped arrange for transportation and free lodging, food and medical services for cosmetic facial reconstruction, with help from local representative Rosemary Davis.

Ahmad and his mother arrived May 28 and stayed with a host family in Richardson through June 27. Then, Khalid Yanouri and Yolanda Roa of Carrollton opened their home to the Zanouns, who are scheduled to leave Saturday, pending further rehabilitation to strengthen Ahmad's paralyzed side.

Neurosurgeon Ayaz Malik and his team donated time to perform Ahmad's surgery. The hospital agreed to provide a free stay during recovery.

Dr. Malik and his team added donated bone tissue to a hole in Ahmad's skull that exposed his brain, and secured it with metal plates.

"I don't feel like a stranger," said Mrs. Zanoun. "I feel like I'm home.

"I thank Dr. Malik, Rosemary and this country, this whole hospital and the people of America for helping my son be cured."

Mrs. Roa has been teaching Ahmad Spanish and English.

"Sometimes when I'm feeding my baby in the bed, he comes into the bed and wants to sleep with us," she said, fondly. "He has medicine he takes every morning for seizures, and he wants me to give it to him."

Ahmad is also among her students while she gives reading lessons to her 2-year-old son.

"It's amazing through all this fighting and struggling he's still such a happy boy," she said. "He's always laughing and saying 'I love you.' It makes me feel good that he is able to overcome that. It's like he doesn't really mind."

Ms. Davis said she is awestruck by the humanitarian assistance that strangers are willing to give.

"Not only is it rewarding but it's gratifying that professionals are willing to offer their services and families would offer their homes," she said.

Ahmad has charmed most everyone he's met, once announcing to all the visitors in his room, "Please come visit us. Come to my father's home," and giving kisses.

The nursing staff brought him a bag of goodies and a balloon that, like him, has a big, smiling face.

He and his mother will leave soon and both will miss their new friends. But they also miss their family in Rafah.

But for now, there is no pain. Only chocolates, candies, a balloon and many people to offer their love.

Staff photo technician Samir Taleb contributed to this report.

E-mail mmartinez@dallasnews.com

or call 972-272-6591, ext. 245.