Can you imagine, as a radiation oncologist, you have to shelter your patients in a Co-60 vault to protect them from missiles, provide them with water by melting snow, feed them, keep them warm by using a backup power generator, and evacuate them just two hours before the missile destroys the radiation oncology department?
What if, as a radiation therapist, you volunteer to live in the radiation oncology department 24/7 to scan wounded patients using a CT simulator?
Imagine, as a medical oncologist in the busy cancer center, treating double the usual volume of patients—and continuing to receive calls from patients from the train stations, requesting appointments to resume their chemotherapy treatment as their houses were bombed and they had to flee to a safer area with no belongings.
Can you imagine, as a nurse caring for cancer patients, worrying about your mom you could not connect with for three weeks, knowing that she is living in the basement, without water, heat, electricity in a constantly shelled area?
Imagine performing a surgery while worrying about your son and husband, who are fighting against the Russian invaders.