We are always prepared to respond to emergencies because no one knows precisely when the shelling could start.

I am okay working with gunshot, mine-explosive and bullet wounds. But how can one prepare to look at the faces of parents who have lost their children?

That morning, April 8, after the rocket attack on the railway station in Kramatorsk, we immediately responded to the emergency call. We gathered all our medical teams and, together with a crew from Pavlohrad, we went there in a large convoy of ambulances. No one realized how massive the explosion was.

And from there, we evacuated them to our region. First, we drove up to the hospital that admitted the injured children. There were screams, despair, and tears of parents. I will never forget the looks on their faces. Seeing parents who have lost their children is harrowing. It physically hurts.

Then we went to the hospital that admitted adult victims. Both young people and older adults were among the wounded there. I was put in charge of two patients. The first was a 50-year-old man who had an amputated arm and shrapnel wounds to the abdomen and limbs. He was bedridden, in a severe state. The second one was a 19-year-old boy with shrapnel wounds to his shins. He was with his grandmother at the station; she died there.

Due to traffic restrictions, roadblocks, and a dim-out, we drove for two or three hours. There were a lot of cars in our evacuation convoy and 15-20 ambulance crews. Some patients were hospitalized in Pavlohrad, and the rest were taken further.

Cases like this stick in my memory, but such is my duty. We keep doing our work. We respond to emergencies and provide first aid.