Чернобыль. Страницы жизни и любви

He woke me up early in the morning. He had to go to work, but again, I could not shake the feeling that the fairy tale was over, that the beautiful dream had come to an abrupt end and that there would not be anything else. We spent a long time saying goodbye and he told me that he did not want to leave and I believed him, I wanted to believe him. It was Thursday, October 31st

Friday went by. He didn’t phone me. Various thoughts played about my head. Everything was fine, I surely knew that it would be like that, and I calmed myself with the thought that I was a free woman and could do anything I wanted.

His phone call on Saturday took me by surprise. I so wanted to see Sergei, but I acted with reserve. He said the he felt unwell, but could come to see me. I answered that I would be not far from him and I could pop in and see him myself. I had already decided for myself. However it was, I was rather worried when I left for some reason.

We spent the time very happily. Next to him I felt like a real woman – desirable, weak, protected. And no matter how many women he had had, at that instant, he only belonged to me. He did everything for me. He brought me a snack in bed, told me many things and laughed a lot.

We looked at his photo albums. I saw a photograph of a girl who I knew. He was a little embarrassed, and said that he should have put the photograph away. But I calmly met this with “It is your life, and you don’t need to hide any of it. The important thing is that now we are together and we are perfectly happy. You have your life, and I have mine.” He understood me and with this our relationship became even more intense.

Of course, it wasn’t very pleasant to see him next to another girl, but I didn’t have the right to reproach him. I was with him and that was the main thing. In the evening we parted, he went to some girl’s birthday party and I went back home. I really didn’t want to part with him, but I didn’t feel I had the right to interfere with his plans. I felt a little hurt and put out, and I again consoled myself with the thought that I had known all along that it would only be for one night…

He called that night and asked permission to come over. He had drunk a lot. He fell asleep. But even like that I needed him. It felt natural there right beside him.

In the morning, we went to ‘the field’ – an amazing place, where people go with pit‑bull terriers, training them for combat. This spectacle struck me no less than the man who took me there. I should have left, but we stood there like children, holding each others’ hands and not finding the words. That is how we spent our first Sunday.

We began to meet, cutting off the past and entering the present, which belonged only to us. I was getting to know him more and more, rejoicing in the moment spent with him alone. But I was also a mother, and therefore life placed an unavoidably difficult choice before me: should I spend the weekend with a man who made me feel incredibly good, or with a daughter who I really love and who needed me more than anyone in the world.

But he was the best person in the world, my darling, my only man, and everything was sorted out. I told him that I couldn’t meet him this weekend, that I was spending it with my child. He quickly proposed another solution: “I like you, which means I like your daughter too. I want to get to know her.” That evening we were like a real loving family. I brought my daughter from my parents’ place. Sergei got acquainted with her and was really happy. He never stopped joking and, being a little tipsy, became so amusing.

We were a family, and friends came to visit us. Sergei began to talk about what if I was carrying his child. Why was that? Truthfully, in those first days of our relationship, he told me, “You know, you are the woman with whom I would like to have a child.” From the very first meeting he treated me with warmth and softness and on this evening he boasted to our friends that I was expecting his child. But I was surprised that he wasn’t joking, he really wanted a little one. But the main thing was that he loved my daughter and treated her with care and attention. This man had become the nearest and dearest thing to me.

But I knew that it could not be, it wasn’t like that. When he slept, I often sat around him, stroking him, basking in his smell and the feeling of being beside him. Sometimes it was so hurtful that we had actually met and would not be together forever! He was real lady’s man, a bachelor, a man living in the present day, why would he need a woman with a child with all the problems that come with that?

Why was I so afraid to believe in my own happiness, and why was I so certain that all this was just temporary, I cannot say.

I had been one or two weeks late, but now it became longer. Sergei asked me, “Is everything alright?” I answered, “I went to the doctor, he said that I need to take the IUD out if I’m to give birth. If I’m not to give birth, then I have to take it out in any case and use other means of contraception, but because of these delays complications might arise during the pregnancy.”

He took my hand, kissed it and said: “Take it out and to the heck with it.” I tried to object. “I will become pregnant at once.” “Yes, yes, and you will bear me a son. We will have a son together.”

Sergei slyly started to move things over to my place, although he did it very tactically and carefully. We visited the doctor frequently and began to wait for the moment when our closeness would bring us joy, the fruit of our love. Everything happened very quickly: In January I became pregnant. Sergei was so happy!

He had brought his things round, but it was nevertheless very difficult for him as he had to get used to the new environment.

On January 13, the Old New Year, the first ‘son’ was born in our home – our dog, Dobry. After this we went to friend of Sergey every week to look at him. I knew that Sergei really loved this puppy and suggested he take it to our place.

An unexpected problem confronted us: Sergei was made laid off at work and we slowly began to wind down my business. But he shared all these problems with me, all these days and nights he was beside me, protecting me from problems with his love. I knew that I was loved, that he was alongside me and so everything would be alright. It was a very difficult period in our lives. I survived it thanks to Sergei;s love and made it through our wedding. Sergei said that we had to register. We don’t want a kid with unmarried parents. We arranged the nuptials for April 25. It was a very beautiful and happy wedding. We were very happy and rejoiced in each other. We loved and respected one another. In his eyes there was so much warmth, love and happiness! At the wedding he sang me a song that brought tears to my eyes. He sang for me. He sang to his beloved wife. To me.

The pregnancy went on with great difficulty. From the beginning I had serious toxicosis. He suffered immensely, afraid for me. Once, seeing how bad I was, he said, “We can go and get an abortion, since you are so ill.” I know that for the sake of me he was ready to deprive himself of a son, but I could not do it, I wanted to have our son, a child with him. He kissed me and said. “I love you, my one and only. Only you can put up with all this, and I am glad that you are mine and are carrying my little one.” I understood his words and how my wonderful, darling, beloved man cherished and understood everything. And what happiness it was to be with such a man.

Our money situation deteriorated, but we nevertheless got ready to travel to Sergei’s homeland, the Ukraine. He very much wanted to acquaint me with his relatives and acquaintances so that they could see me as his wife.

When we met, he told them all: “This is my beloved woman”, but after we were married my introduction became: “This is my lovely wife.” The word ‘wife’ began to sound to me like music.

I liked being his wife. He was proud and boasted of his family. He loved us, both me and my daughter.

We relaxed wonderfully and at Sergei’s house I liked it very much: kind, good parents, remarkable, sincere friends. We stayed in the Ukraine two whole weeks, but we had to return. My daughter Lena had to go to her first class.

We quickly decided the question of the adoption of Elena by Sergei and he officially became her father. When she was put on his passport he ran to show everyone that he had a daughter. Lena began school with a new surname and patronymic; she loved her father very much. He did everything for her: she went to the best school. She became our daughter, but he was the father, the only real father to her.

The contractions had begun two weeks earlier. Sergei and I consulted a doctor, and we were advised to go to the hospital immediately. Toxicosis was there from beginning to end. I hadn’t put on weight and my strength had gone. He suffered terribly, but he didn’t lose confidence that we would have a son, a son, only a son. The ultrasound confirmed that was a boy and even took a photograph of him. Sergei showed it to everybody although there was nothing there to see.

Labor was long and hard, but on the next day at 18:45 I gave birth to our son Alexander – Sasha for short. They didn’t give out any information on my condition for a long time, because for a long time it was critical.

For some reason they told Sergei that he had a daughter. The nurse who told him this heard a flow of oaths and curses: he was in shock, offended at everyone and everything. He only needed a son: after 20 minutes he was called at home and apologetically told that he had a son: weight 3.9 kilos, height, 53 centimeters. He said that life came back to him at this moment. His happiness was boundless, he loved us, and we felt this from afar.

Sergei had to drive to earn money: We didn’t have much to live on. But I had to eat well. He worked nights and in the day he spent it all and brought me food in the maternity hospital. He fed our daughter at home and sent her to school. He had all the responsibility. We were discharged on October 14. He met us with an armful of roses and was the happiest father in the world. We lived like friends, and the problems of life only made our marriage stronger; we never quarreled over money. Little Sasha brought still more respect and warmth into our relationship. Probably, this is the greatest happiness there is.

We always had many friends, and they often came over. Little Sasha was surrounded by people from the very beginning. We watched our youngster grow and were pleased: we were so happy because we were together, that we had a son and a daughter. All the adversities, which descended upon us, passed us by, and our bond was tighter, our love was stronger.

On April 18th 1998 Sergei was 34 years old. We celebrated his birthday at home. Early in the morning, I placed a beautifully packaged box on his pillow. Inside was a watch – one that he really liked. Titanium. He had wanted it forever. I was glad that I had been able to earn the money and run down to the shop the night before…

He liked the watch immensely. The whole day he boasted and showed off – he was someone who could pull it off without being offensive. He kept and cared for this gift until the end of his life.

At the end of May, Sergei’s health declined, and pains in his stomach began to intensify. On the right side of it, a lump swelled up. The pain had been there before, but he had not eaten anything and it had passed. In 1989, Sergey had been part of a decontamination team at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant disaster. When, twelve years later, the pain began to disturb him constantly, he went to the Chernobyl polyclinic, where he got an order for an otoscopy. It couldn’t be done in the polyclinic, he had to go to the hospital. He really didn’t want to go to the hospital, and was scared. We phoned various different medical centers to check, but they all said that this barium X ray was only available at the hospital. Sergei lay in hospital. They didn’t examine him and they didn’t even make an appointment for the X ray but only removed a polyp, which had appeared in a completely different place. The doctor simply didn’t get to the source of the pain, because the patient was badly prepared for the operation. Sergei lay in hospital for three weeks. The first time I visited him was on the day of the operation and I was frightened: he was pale green in color and thoroughly worn out. I brought him a basket of roses. He looked after them, watered them. After that I came every day. Before he was discharged I went up to his doctor and asked what the worst could be. The answer came, like a storm cloud in a clear sky. It could be cancer.

The earth went from under my feet, and all the colors of the earth grew dim. But behind me, just five meters away, stood Sergey. So I collected my strength and went up to him with a smile.

“Everything is fine, it is a polyp. In the autumn, they’ll do everything and take care of you for good.”

I did not know what to do. I drove out bad thoughts. However, looking truth in the face, I had to admit it: when he came home from the hospital, his condition was rather worse than when he had gone in. He had grown very thin and the pains had increased. In hospitals they had started spring‑cleaning and you couldn’t get in.

Summer came. He wasn’t happy any more. We didn’t go anywhere. Twice we went to the town, but he felt ill and we had to come back again. We waited for the autumn. On September 8 Sergei was put on a therapy program at the same hospital, and on the next day the first X ray was taken. Afterwards he was moved to the surgery department and I was summoned to the doctor.

I came to the doctor with our son. We sat in the office of the head of the department. He looked at me and asked, “Have you guessed what is wrong with your husband? Do you know anything about his condition?”

Yes, I knew Sergei had cancer. The diagnosis confirmed this, but what stage it was at, and what we should expect, the doctor could only say after the operation. And again, when I saw Sergei, I smiled and said that everything was okay, there was nothing to worry about, we were together.

The operation was set for September 17. In two days time was my birthday. I cried – I could not believe that my Sergei had cancer. No, everything would be okay, I believed. Everything would be fine.

It is a terrible feeling when everything inside is breaking; you want tear out your hair and cry out. But there is no way out.

I visited to him every day. We had things to talk about and we simply loved being together. We liked the doctor. He was the same age as Sergei, very pleasant and attentive.

On the day of the operation, I arrived towards one in the afternoon. The operation was scheduled for the morning. When I went into the ward, I was told that they had just taken him to the operating room. Ten minutes went by. Time went slowly, it was terrible and unsettling. I sat in the hall, with tears flowing, it was so painful.

The patients came to me, calmed me down, told different stories, spoke very well of the surgeons. These kind people supported me. Their presence helped me a lot. Thank you, dear people.

I went to the church, which was opposite the hospital. I went in and said prayers, and lit a candle. My eyes were clouded with tears. When I got out of the church, I bought a crucifix. It was small and gold, on a leather cord. We had christened Sergei in the Ukraine. His godparents were his best friends in that life – his youth. Now I really wanted him to feel that I was beside him the whole time. I knew that he would be in recovery, and I would not be let in to see him; flowers were not allowed in there either, but they had to give him the cross. After the anesthetic he would see it and he would gradually grow calmer.

They had told me that such an operation takes a long time. But in all it took only two hours and our doctor called me into the office. Everything in me seized up, and I felt that I was about to hear the most terrible thing in my life…The doctor began to talk in a calm, soft voice.

“I must tell you the truth.”

It was difficult for him. He could not look me in the eye.

“Yes, Doctor, just tell me the truth”, I answered.

It really was so terrible, that everything turned upside down. It seemed to me that I would go crazy. It was Stage IV Cancer, inoperable… too late.

If only tears and screams could change anything! I cried and did not want to believe it.

“I love him, anything, anything at all, but just not this, not him, no, no.”

To this day I hear my kind doctor’s words: “Go ahead and cry. But only in here and right now, because later you won’t have the right to do so.”

And I cried and cried, and sobbed my heart out.

“How long will he live?”

“Not long. From a few weeks to six months.”

God, how terrible it was, that some inhuman pain could tear you to pieces from within, and that there was no escape from it. I wanted to shout, to roll on the ground, to bang my head against the wall. I did not want to live. The man you love is dying and there is nothing you can do.

Everything in me turned away from it. I cannot lose him. I love him. He is my life. He is everything that has been best in my life. He is the greatest, the most amazing man. I cannot believe that I am losing him. The pain transfixed me. The doctor went out. I remained alone. I had time, at least, to pull myself together a little. The doctor said I could give him the crucifix myself, but I had to calm down. We decided to tell Sergei nothing. I knew that my kind, good man was not ready just now to accept such terrible facts. He must come to himself again and know that everything would be okay. And I would fight for him. Everything really would be all right. Now was not the time for him to know about his ordeal… the fate that awaited him. The doctor came in and his lovely voice brought me back down to earth.

“Let’s go, but you need to pull yourself together.”

I promised.

We went into the intensive care ward. My darling, God, how I love him, lay sleeping. I went up to him, began to kiss him, to whisper words of love.

I heard his voice.

“It hurts. Where am I? Where am I?”

I stroked him, began calming him down: everything was okay, now everything was all right. Tears ran down my cheeks, I kissed him. The doctor helped put the crucifix on him. I left the ward and the strength finally left me. In the hall, I saw some guys there, two friends of Sergei. They came up to me and said that they knew everything. They supported me as best they could. The doctor told them not to leave me alone, to take me home and then watch over me.

“Come back tomorrow. He needs you, but you need to keep yourself together.”

“I’ll keep myself together. I will.”

The guys took me to the café. I cried and we talked for a long time. We didn’t want to believe in the death sentence. Pain smothered me, but I knew that the next day I had to be strong.

I came to him in the morning. He wasn’t sleeping. I had brought a basket of thirty‑three burgundy roses with me. They were very beautiful. I so wanted everything to be okay for him! He had to be happy and feel loved and wanted.

“Why are you spending so much money on me, silly?”

But he said this very pleasantly; his eyes were smiling.

We greeted each other. I kissed him.

“How are things, my sweet?” I said.

He began with a question:

Why was there a crucifix in his hand?

I smiled.

“You know, I felt that you were alongside me. I didn’t see you or hear you, but I could smell you and your tears fell on my cheeks. My darling, you were crying…In the morning, when I woke up, there was a string around my neck. I looked – it was a crucifix, which meant that you had really been beside me. Only you could have put it on me.”

He was happy and satisfied. I said that the operation had been a success, and now there would be a long period of recovery and everything would be fine for us. He hurt all over. It was even difficult for him to go to the toilet. I tried to help him: to raise the bed, so it was comfortable for him, to cover him; I even helped him to drink… when I left the ward, tears stifled me, I ran to the female nurse and asked for a tranquilizer. The evening came and I was getting ready to go home. I kissed him. He said:

“Tomorrow is your birthday.”

“Yes. I will come to you and we will be together.”

In the morning I put on a yellow suit that he really liked, did myself up and went to see him. He was waiting for me, and we greeted and kissed.

“I wish you had brought some sweets.”

I ran to the doctor and asked him if he could have sweets. The doctor said, “Yes, boiled sweets.” I promised to bring them the next day.

“I knew that you would wear this suit.”

He smiled.

Time went by unheeded. We had a great time together. We chatted, did crosswords, he relaxed and I delighted in his breathing. We were together and nothing could disturb us. Taking out his bedpan, going down the long corridor, I thought: “Oh God, how happy I am, yes, happy. I am beloved and I love, I can be beside my loved one and indispensable to him, like the air that he breathes.”

He would often repeat.

“Go on, go home, you will have guests.”

“Sergei, I haven’t invited anyone, I will be with you, my darling.”

I left him late, at eight o’clock. For the first time in many days, I didn’t cry. – I felt very good. We had spent the day so pleasurably together that I was happy.

When I got home, I discovered a surprise. Our friends had laid the table and were waiting for me. They had come to congratulate and support me. They were so kind and dear to me. They gave me presents, congratulated me, and all of them suffered the trials which I was going through together with me.

Sergei had given me a bouquet of 27 red roses for my 25th – a year later, my friends did the same. I will always remember these roses. They were roses of friendship, respect and love. It was wonderful to be among friends, and only the fact that Sergei was not there oppressed and weighed heavily on me. The thought that he had but a short time left to live constantly distracted me.

No, my Sergei would live. I was ready to fight for him, to look for the necessary literature, where I could find the straw to grasp at. But next to me were his friends and doctors – I believed them and believed in them. They gave me money, for I knew Sergei’s cherished childhood dream. In the morning I went to the shop and bought him some binoculars, which I had chosen with his friends from the institute. They were packed in glittering paper with a beautiful bow.

When we went in, he immediately boasted that the doctor had given him a sweet. I went into the ward, put the box on the bed and said:

“It’s for you.”

“Spending money on me again, eh?” He grumbled, but softly and pleasantly.

When he opened the box, he was so pleased that I noticed there were tears in his eyes. He turned away for a second and then called me to him.

“Come here.”

I leaned over.

“You are the best woman in the world. I love you. Thank you darling.”

My heart contracted. Tears smothered me. “I cannot lose him,” murmured a voice in my head. Sergei wouldn’t have been himself if he didn’t immediately start joking: the binoculars I had bought weren’t the right ones – they should have been navy ones…but I was happy that he was joking. Speak, say anything you like, only speak, my darling.

The days went by in turn and, as before, we spent a lot of time together. Sergei slowly started getting out of bed, his drip was cut off, his scar slowly healed over. I constantly beleaguer the doctor with questions: whatever I read, whatever I hear, I run to him with questions. He hears me out and always supports me. I am so in need of this support.

They showed Sergei’s operation on TV–I happened to watch it and subconsciously understood that several surgeons really worked magic on my Sergei. When it was time to discharge him, the surgeons promised that they would stand by us. They kept their word.

We were discharged and back home again. The difficult time began. Sergei in pain. The baby boy, our daughter at school; we started treatment using the Shevchenko method, from people’s medicine. We kept using spasmalgon pills. The doctor came and examined him, calmed him down: now would be the difficult stage, the stage of recuperation, but he had to fight.

We decided to christen the children, give Sergei his first communion and sanctify the flat. The priest came to our home and talked to Sergei for a long time. The christening was wonderful and our friends became godparents. Soon we were preparing to celebrate our son’s first birthday.