The Road to Recovery
Admitted to Homeland Defender’s last December after a brief struggle with Covid-19, Hayk has already restored some mobility in his arm, also impacted by the injury, and is working hard towards his first step outside a wheelchair.
His mother, Anna, who thanks God every day that her son is back home alive, has every confidence in the center’s experts. “We’d heard a lot of good things about this place, how many had come here with no hope and left walking on their own two feet,” she says. But for Hayk, the outcome was far less certain. “When I first got here, I was very depressed,” he says.
Because Homeland Defender’s takes in the most severe cases, close to 90 percent of its patients—most of them no more than 20 years old—are bound to some form of disability, says chief physician Poghosyan, and “to have your life turned upside down like that at such a young age is psychologically taxing.”
Hayk, who’s now been through more therapies than he can remember, credits the center staff and their caring attitude for lifting his flagging spirits and helping him adapt to his new environment. “And then there are my fellow servicemen, some of whom are also being treated here and who have made socializing all the more easier,” he says.
Group interactions among veterans of past and present wars over Nagorno-Karabakh, including those from the 1990s, are an integral part of the healing process, explains Poghosyan, “because they push the boys to draw inspiration from one another and believe in a life beyond their disability,” she says, adding: “The important thing is never to pity them, but rather help them become independent again. You don’t pity heroes. Instead, you respect and honor them.”
Though he has yet to walk again, Hayk’s dreams for the future remain unabated. A law student in his hometown Ijevan, his long-held wish is to become an actor, even as he learns to play the guitar again and has begun taking German classes—all courtesy of the volunteer staff engaged in the framework of the One Window initiative.
A social assistance program for the army disabled and their families set up by Support Wounded Soldiers, the initiative involves social workers from legal, medical and other relevant backgrounds to help assess its beneficiaries’ needs and provide solutions by engaging the state.
With more than 3,000 applicants serviced since its inception in 2014, One Window also assists soldiers in choosing a career that is mindful of their preferences and physical limitations, since “rehab is as much about social and professional rehab as it is about physical rehab,” says Poghosyan.
Director Minasyan is now in talks with the Ministry of Labor and Social Affairs to secure state sponsorship of the initiative, which still relies on the financial support of charities like My Step Foundation and others to function. “We also want to help formulate a more systemic approach to state provision of social services to the wounded in service,” adds Minasyan.
Brothers in Arms
Yerjanik Stepanyan, 19, is also among the 200 or so homeland defenders currently receiving treatment at the Homeland Defender’s center. A missile explosion on the southern front where he was stationed —now in Azerbaijani hands—had sent him flying in the air and fractured both his arms.
Transferred to Erebuni Medical Center in Yerevan after a first short stay in Stepan-akert, Yerjanik (whose name translates to joyous in Armenian) underwent multiple complex surgeries to repair his broken arms and save them from certain amputation. He was one of the lucky ones.
Hasmik Saiyan, deputy director of therapy and head of the Department of Emergency Medicine at the hospital, remembers with tears how they fought tooth and nail for every one of the hundreds of wounded soldiers rushed through their emergency doors at the height of the war. “Because we’re the only hospital in Yerevan to have a helipad, we got the worst cases, both physically and mentally. And while we saved most of them, for some, it was just too late.”
A few days into his recovery, strengthened by the support of his family, Yerjanik learned (accidentally) of Home-land Defender’s, where he was told he could restore his arms to their former mobility to practice his passion—photography. Little did he know of the chance encounter that awaited him there the third time round.
Just days into his stay at the center after his discharge from Erebuni, Yerjanik feels “at home here,” he says. And with good cause. Artyom Arevikyan, 19, an arts student at Yerevan State and Yerjanik’s closest army buddy, is also being treated there. “First we shared a trench together, then it was a hospital ward, now it’s rehab,” tells Yerjanik.
Whereas in 2016 we mainly delt with gunshot wounds, with some instances of blast injuries, these were nothing like the multiple traumas our boys suffered at the hands of drones and missiles in this new war of the machines. It was horrible.
The boys became overnight media sensations after a photo of Artyom feeding Yerjanik from his bedside as Yerjanik lay with his arms still in bandages spread on social media in Armenia. “The photo was meant as a keepsake of our journey together. We didn’t expect it to become so popular,” say the boys, both smiling.
Like Yerjanik, Artyom too suffered a blast injury, this time missile shrapnel to the wrist—the norm in this latest round of fighting over Artsakh, says chief physician Poghosyan. “Whereas in 2016 we mainly delt with gunshot wounds, with some instances of blast injuries, these were nothing like the multiple traumas our boys suffered at the hands of drones and missiles in this new war of the machines. It was horrible,” she says.
Though still unable to make full use of his wrist, Artyom, who preceded his friend at the center, often helps him wheel himself to one of his electrotherapy sessions or some other of the 63 therapies offered at Homeland Defender’s. This even as he too must attend daily acupuncture sessions with the center’s chief reflexotherapist Hasmik Davtyan.
