By Margaryta Chornokondratenko
KYIV (Reuters) – Before the war, Ukrainian soldier Yana Zalevska had plans for plastic surgery to enhance her appearance.
But when a Russian drone struck her dugout in eastern Ukraine in August, tearing up her face and hands, she needed surgery for very different reasons.
“I am not scared of scars,” said the 23-year-old drone pilot. “I understand that this can be fixed and that I’ll get help to get over it.”
Zalevska is among the more than 200 wounded troops and civilians who have been treated by a network of aesthetic medicine specialists across Ukraine, healing the badly scarred and burned free of charge.
Russia’s February 2022 invasion grinds on with no end in sight, striking village after village along the sprawling frontline and producing a steady stream of casualties among both soldiers and civilians.
Much of the fighting is reminiscent of last century’s wars, marked by trench combat and artillery duels that often result in shredded limbs.
Drone warfare, meanwhile, brings danger closer than ever before.
Doctors of the Ukrainian volunteer organisation Unburned were able to remove the shrapnel that peppered Zalevska’s face and hands and are currently treating her scars. She said she will be able to fly drones again because feeling has returned to her fingers.
Maksym Turkevych, the CEO of Unburned, said his privately funded programme offers more than just aesthetic treatment by improving the overall quality of life in patients with more severe wounds.
Around half of amputees have scars on their stumps, for example, making it uncomfortable and sometimes unbearable to wear prosthetic legs, he said.
“We are talking not only about … how the person looks,” said Turkevych. “Very often, we are talking about how the person moves,” he said.
Oleksandr Chaika, an acrobatics instructor from Kyiv who volunteered to fight, is receiving treatment at the site of his amputated leg, lost when a tank shell hit his trench.
He says he deals with “hellish” pain on a daily basis.
He believes high-quality care would be an important physical and psychological boost for many of his former comrades-in-arms, including those with wounds on their face.
“They start to develop insecurities, they are afraid to look people in the eye because of their wounds,” said Chaika, 35. “I wouldn’t want them to shut off.”
(Additional reporting by Andrii Perun and Anna Voitenko; Writing by Dan Peleschuk; Editing by Ros Russell)
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