Iranian doctors in the intensive care unit Kovid – 19 – and U.S. Climb with strict hands with sanctions


Inside, five patients are being bravely kept alive, patchwork of devices acquired during mildly painful months that have seen more than 750 deaths here. And with tremendous commitment and ingenuity.

“The most worrying thing for the doctor is that such drugs are available (in abundance) in some parts of the world but they are not here,” said Dr. Alireza Fatemi.

Retired teacher Khalifa Farhani struggles a lot to speak, but his emotions affect the lungs affected by the virus. “Sanctions, it’s cruelty from America,” he said. He caught the virus while walking in the park, he added, but the condition is also “better than before”.

The tube in his nose is worn lightly, considering a lot of equipment in the ward: very hard-nosed, but undoubtedly no country’s equipment, which has cut to the fullest in medicine, has run around the world in epidemics. The ICU is not sealed from the rest of the ward.

Days change here, doctors said. Two deaths are a good day, four average, and the worst they killed nine people. Iran has passed two tough targets in the past week: 50,000 people died on Saturday and one million reported cases last week since the outbreak began. The number that tells part of the story is limited in its scope by the tests it is able to collect every day, the number of which is about 60,000.

However, as their knowledge of home-grown solutions grew, this November was the most brutal month, with 10,000 deaths. The hospital’s dean of hospitals, Reza Jalali Khoshnaud, blames the third spike, as Iranians now speak out on the need to keep the damaged economy afloat. “People had to go to work,” he said. “Risky businesses were allowed (to stay open), then a few months later we got a spike. The last month has culminated.”

The toll on staff has been heavy, the highest in months, months. An estimated 300 medical personnel have died across the country since the outbreak began, Khushnaud said. And those who survive carry the burden of what they have seen.

“It was the bitterest day when I had a 47-year-old mother of three here,” said Aslan Amiri, head nurse at the ICU. “She didn’t react to the treatment. It was the most horrible, bitter day for me when she died. I couldn’t save her. It stuck in my memory.”

The loss of a young parent also bothers another nurse, Elham Moazami. He said, “I came from another ward to help Kovid.” “We tried to save a man with two young children at just 32. But we failed. It was the bitterest day for all the staff here.”

Nurse Mitra Aghrazi said: “Stress is a part and parcel of nursing but (disease) epidemics are something different – ten times more. We worry when we can do the disease ourselves or pass it on to our friends or family. It is our Heavy load on the shoulders. “

Similar to the Best-a-Zahra cemetery, the tidy graves are swallowed up and the debris swallowed up in the resurrection and tormenting mantras of the imams working overtime to pray for the endless flow of corpses.

Resistance – a word frequently sought by Iran’s leadership – is the word here. Fatemi said that P.P.E. And even though it is found in the domestic production of medicine, restrictions mean that they are always on the verge of shortage. “We are in a much better position now than in the early months … if there were no restrictions we would have had drug backups and no worries of facing another wave of epidemics.”

Although sanctions technically exempt food and medical supplies, human rights reports from Iran have repeatedly emphasized the impact of regional sanctions on access to essential medicines and medical equipment, including respiratory and protective devices, for health care workers. And experts say U.S. sanctions on Iran are really hurting its response to the epidemic.

Sanam Wakil, an Iran expert with the UK, said: “Iran is hampered by sanctions that prevent foreign reserves, foreign currency from buying the necessary medical devices abroad – masks, which may need to take care of its population.” Tanki Chatham House, told CNN earlier this year.

Muslim imams at Iranian cemeteries pray 30 times a day as the death toll rises in Kovid-19.

Places for those who lost the fight are an hour across the city. Similar to the Best-a-Zahra cemetery, the tidy graves are swallowed up and the debris swallowed up in the resurrection and tormenting mantras of the imams working overtime to pray for the endless flow of corpses.

The corpses fall on the shoulders of family members, and this afternoon the two stories are the same: in their late fifties, with diabetes, crashed with Covid-19. The next task of the gravediggers is chilling proportions. To ensure both economy and standard, to allocate every space, with tape measure, one knee.

The prayers of the neighborhood rituals overlap, and the grief seems to be wrapped up in grief, almost drowning out a woman’s lone scream that usually stops the dead crowd in her lap. None of the funeral parties want to talk; Many have drowned.

The walls of the tombs are carefully lined with clay. The petals are laid on the floor. The ceremony is dynamic fast enough to accommodate both the cautionary and the acute trend of death. Dozens of imams are said to have prayed 30 times a day. The volume is a surprising sight in both volume and speed, reminiscent of the restrictions in Washington without hesitation, however, Iranians say it has suffered globally due to more bounties here.

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