Days before leaving on a medical mission to Gaza this year, oral and maxillofacial surgeon Dr. Tarik Elmohd bought a pile of kid-sized thermal pajamas from Costco and arranged to meet a cardiologist friend in a Publix parking lot to pick up some extra stethoscopes.
Elmohd and a dozen other American doctors would be volunteering for two weeks in the Gaza Strip, more than 6,500 miles away. They knew the need was vast.
Tens of thousands of Palestinians have been killed, and the United Nations estimates more than 100,000 civilians wounded, as Israel has repeatedly bombed the coastal territory in a bid to wipe out Hamas, a militant group that has controlled Gaza for nearly two decades.
The latest fighting began in October 2023 with Hamas’ attack on Israel, killing some 1,200 people.
Israel controls what kinds of aid and medical supplies can go into Gaza through Israel’s Coordinator of Government Activities in the Territories, or COGAT.
While the Israeli government says there are no limits on the provision of medical assistance, doctors on the ground say they lack basic things like anesthetic to treat pain.
Elmohd spoke with WUSF’s Kerry Sheridan about the medical team’s efforts to treat people wounded in the war zone.
This conversation has been lightly edited for content and length.
Can you describe what it was like when you got there?
Crossing at the border, they call it Kerem Shalom, I genuinely felt like we were crossing into a maximum-security prison. You’ve got walls and sniper towers, and you think to yourself, where am I headed into? And then you get in, start driving, and then it's destruction.
It reminded me of a scene in the movie, "Children of Men," with Clive Owens, where people are getting off a bus and they're getting crowded into this fence area, and they're being checked, and then they get in, and they get into this part of a city, and there's absolute war everywhere and destruction. And that's exactly what it reminded me of. And as soon as you got in, I was like, these people are trapped. It genuinely feels like a prison, and there's just destruction within it.
That was the first experience going in. It was a shock. I don't think that you can prepare yourself for the amount of destruction that you see when you get there.
Would you describe this as a volunteer mission or a humanitarian mission? What made you want to go?
I would say it's a volunteer and humanitarian mission. I went with an NGO (non-government organization) group called Rahma Worldwide, and they were one of the few NGO groups that had access to the north of Gaza for medical treatment of all the patients that they had there.
I've always wanted to do something to give back and to do something for the Palestinian people, especially in Gaza, and I felt like there was no better way to do it than actually take what I've learned over the years and what I practice today and use it there.
And because you are Palestinian-American yourself, right?
Right. I'm an American citizen. I'm a surgeon. They only have one maxillofacial surgeon in all of Gaza, so being another one to help, and there's a dire need. Everybody in our group was American. I was one of three who spoke Arabic in the group of 13.
What kinds of injuries did you expect to have to be treating?
Mostly trauma. I spent a lot of time in the ER because they needed the help. And for the most part, the treatment was the same across the board, because you didn't have that much that you could do.
At the Al-Ahli hospital, which is one of like, four functional hospitals, but one of the ones that actually had a CT machine, and you could actually do work at only had three operating rooms and only had three ICU beds.
It was very difficult to see hundreds of patients come through an ER that could barely hold 20 beds and have to treat all these people. You couldn't always give everybody the best level of care. You didn't have the means. You sort of tried to treat them with a first aid kit.
I can't imagine. You are a doctor who was raised and trained in the United States with access to all the tools and medical equipment that you need. I mean, to go there and feel powerless. How did you manage that?
It was frustrating at times, very frustrating. You find yourself really beating yourself up. Utter frustration. Where's this? How come we don't have this? How come it's like basic things?
I think for the most part it was a shock to see the efforts that you could do were minimal because you didn't have the resources. And some people survived and came out pretty fine, and a lot of them died because you knew that had we been able to give this patient X, Y and Z, they would have made it.
Patients had things done to them that most people here or any part of the world would be asleep for, or have a local anesthetic for. There, you just you did it because, okay -- this needs to be done. We don't have the medication to put you to sleep or to give you the local. It's tough to see and you don't like inflicting pain. Nobody likes to do that.
In our earlier phone conversation, you told me about a girl that you were able to treat, Bushra. Tell me about her situation.
I remember this young girl, where she was about 12-13, years old. They had bombed the building next to her family’s, but the blast shot her out of the window from like the second floor to the fifth floor through the adjacent building.
She had multiple other injuries. She had a chest tube in. She was seen and worked up real quick, and she had a big chunk of her cheek that blew off, and her lip was cut open, so to re-establish somewhat of a mouth and a lip for her, I came and saw her.
She was very, very sassy and had a very big attitude. She was questioning my credibility, and I just loved that. I loved that attitude from her.
She's just going through so much, and she's like, who are you? Who do you think you are?
Did you tell her you were an American surgeon?
Yeah, I tell her, I'm American surgeon, and she hears me speak, because I'm speaking to them in Arabic, then they look at me, like what do you mean? And then I tell them I'm actually Palestinian-American.
And she wanted to know every little step of what I was going to do. And I told her, we're going to have to suture you up. I don't have any local anesthetic. We just had ketamine, some ketamine, and I had just a little bit left, and I gave her some.
As we were sewing her up, she felt every aspect of it, and I had to work as quickly as I could. And every time after I throw a stitch, she's like, that's enough, no, done, done, and she's screaming and crying.
It's hard because you're holding them down. And they are kids, just like, screaming in pain. It's hard to think that I could do this without all of this torture, but we're not allowed to bring it in.
I kept in touch with her, and I still remember she gave me this same, you know, run around and same attitude, but I came to cut her stitches out. She was one of my favorite people that I met there.
About a week ago [early March], her family sent me a video from overseas of her saying thank you and how she healed up and she ended up real nice.
And to see that video, and she's smiling and she's giggling, and it makes it feel like, no matter whatever heartache I experienced when I was there, whatever troubles I experienced when I came back, you see that smile and you're like, it was so worth it.
Is there anything you wish more people understood about the situation there?
I just wish people knew that there's a dire need for humanitarian aid in Gaza and so many more lives could be saved, so many more people's lives could be changed for the better.
When you ask the people in Gaza, ‘what do you want?’ they'll look at you and say, ‘I don't want anything. Just make the war more stop. We'll fix it. We'll rebuild that. Just make it stop. We don't need anything from anybody.’
That just blows my mind. If I could give you anything, what would you want? Make the war stop.
You know, I wish more than anything, that people could go see it firsthand. Going and seeing it firsthand changes you.
You have to enter Gaza like you're entering a prison. You know, if you've ever visited someone in jail or in prison, that's what it felt like.
They say that when you go to Gaza on these medical missions, your body comes back, but your soul stays there.
Who says that?
A lot of the doctors who've done it more than once. We had one orthopedic surgeon that was the second time there, and he warned us all and said, 'You'll be back.'
Have you talked to many people about your experience yet?
When I first came back, I sort of avoided a lot of people, and then as time went on, I shared more and more stories, and I kept in touch with a lot of people back there, and I felt like it was important to share their story.
There's a lot of people that are in dire need in Gaza. A lot of young kids, a lot of people who have nothing to do with the war, who are unfortunately exposed to all of this.
Their problem is very easily fixable. They need more aid, and they're (Israel) always changing the rules on what can go in.
So, do you know when you're going back?
I'm hoping in June. My soul is still there. I have to go back.
