The Ninth Floor

For one week, the ninth floor of Ivano-Frankivsk Regional Clinical Hospital in western Ukraine housed an international reconstructive surgery mission. Patient wards, operating rooms, doctors’ offices, and the nurses’ station were all located on the same floor. While photographing all aspects of the mission—from patient evaluations to surgeries to conferences—I witnessed a constant tension between anticipation, gratitude, studied bravado, suppressed anxiety, pain, and joy. Most of the patients were veterans, and for many of them this was neither the first nor the last surgery on the long road to recovery.

Every morning at 9 a.m. we stood together for the minute of silence in memory of those who lost their lives in battle. For our patients it wasn’t a formality; for us it was an honor to stand next to them. Eventually, I heard their stories. Toward the end of the mission, they became more comfortable being photographed while sitting on their hospital beds, not posing, not hiding.

Although these images were originally part of a larger project, during editing they struck me with their emotional charge: the same environment, sometimes even similar injuries, but different reactions. These men had seen the darkest side of war. They had lost brothers and sisters in arms, been wounded, survived battlefield evacuations, or endured Russian captivity. War had changed their lives, but it had not made them invulnerable. Now they are in a vulnerable situation, where the process of their recovery is no longer in their hands but in the hands of doctors from overseas, some of whom do not speak their language. I felt this tension begin to subside after surgery.

I am grateful to Razom for Ukraine, Face the Future Foundation, Patients of Ukraine, Ivano-Frankivsk Regional Clinical Hospital, Still Strong, and Materialise for making this mission possible and for trusting me to document it.