Support for a defender with amputations

"I am a volunteer, a soldier of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. Before the war, my life was simple and predictable: I worked as a driver, transporting goods, living an ordinary civilian life. But when the full‑scale war began, I couldn’t just watch from the sidelines. I tried to mobilize several times, but because I had not served in the army previously, I was not accepted. Then I joined a Volunteer Territorial Defense Unit, and on February 25, 2023, I became a serviceman in the Armed Forces of Ukraine.

I served in the medical company of the 44th Separate Mechanized Brigade. Our work was evacuating the wounded. We went into places where others were trying to get out, because that’s where those who were still breathing and waiting for help were left.

On October 16, 2025, around 9:30 a.m., while carrying out a combat mission near the village of Berestok in Kramatorsk district of Donetsk region, there were three of us. We had to carry a wounded comrade out – literally on our shoulders – because bringing in a vehicle in such locations was impossible. I remember the explosion. After it, two of my brothers‑in‑arms were killed. I survived, but I was severely wounded.

I lay in a cut‑through field. My legs were destroyed: soft tissues torn, bones broken. It felt like my body stopped being mine. With my last strength I applied tourniquets to myself. Then I tried to pack my wounds by myself, but my hands no longer obeyed me. There was only one thought if I stayed there, it would be better to die quickly. I lay there for about six hours in pain, cold, and waiting.

Around 3 p.m., fighters from "Azov" found me. They carried me to a dugout, and their medics gave me first aid and pain relief. We waited for evacuation to a stabilization point in Druzhkivka. Right before surgery, for the first time in five days I called my wife (communication was prohibited at the positions). I told her I was wounded and would probably lose my legs. In response, I heard a calm and confident voice: "The main thing is that you’re alive. People live without legs. We will manage".

In Druzhkivka, around 8 p.m., they amputated both of my lower limbs. I had been in tourniquets for more than 10 hours, and there was no chance of saving my legs. Next came intensive care in Dnipro, hospitals in Kyiv, and a hospital in Lviv. A long road of pain and acceptance of a new life.

Now my life looks completely different than it did before. Things I never gave a second thought to – rolling up to the table, leaving the house, getting where I need to go – now require strength, patience, and constant work on myself. I understand that desire alone is not enough. I need to retrain my body. Build strength so that my arms and back can withstand daily loads. Work on endurance so I don’t stop after just a few minutes of movement. Get used to increasing activity gradually, so my body doesn’t break down but becomes stronger.

In particular, I need to learn how to operate an active wheelchair so that it becomes not a limitation, but my "legs". To roll up a ramp. To cross uneven ground. To turn around in a tight space. To leave the house without fear that I won’t manage. For me, this is not just physical. It is about returning to people. About the ability to run errands calmly, meet friends, be part of life rather than a bystander. About being able to do things for myself without having to ask for help.

This is why specialized rehabilitation at the Western Rehabilitation and Sports Center of NCSIU is so important to me – a place where they teach not just how to "survive", but how to live after injury.

I dream of returning to an active life. To be mobile and independent.

To live not with the thought "I’ll just get by", but with confidence: "I can!".