My hubby called me last night a little bit earlier than our usual call time, and sounded really tired.
"I had a tough day today, Fatima." A thousand pictures flew through my mind, and I was happy that I was talking to him directly, that I could hear his voice and be reassured of his presence.
One of his colleagues had been targeted when someone booby-trapped his car. On his way to work, it blew up and he was taken to Yarmouk Hospital. My husband and co-workers went and picked him up and transferred him to Ibn Sina hospital for better care. The poor man lost both his legs, and my husband was there to see a friend go through this, was there to transport him in his state of agony and pain. And I can only imagine how difficult it was for hubby; for him to admit to me that he'd had a tough day was a big deal.
On another note, another one of his colleagues had faced the same situation a few weeks ago. Apparently strategy has changed for these chaos-mongers and instead of kidnapping and ransoming/murdering folk, they just booby-trap their cars. But I must say, these incidents have lessened greatly in the last year, but these last couple of months have spiked a bit. Allah al-Hafith.
Update: Yesterday, hubby was describing to me a little of what he saw a few days ago with his friend, 'I'. He told me he was there with him before the surgery took place, and 'I' was conscious throughout the whole ordeal. (warning: graphic description): He told me he saw a bone sticking out on one leg, with no muscle/meat on it. The right foot looked ok, so he asked the doctor if they could save that one. The doctor picked it up, and the only thing keeping the foot attached was a bit of skin. Hubby was telling me who gruesome and horrible that scene was, but he stayed by his conscious friend's side through out it. The guy has had his leg surgery/amputations done, and now, doctors are working on extracting shrapnel from his eye. May we never see such a fate with our loved ones.