#16~ 1975~ Still waiting for Exit Visas

Waiting is one of the worst things one can experience, especially when your life and lives of the loved ones depends on it. We were all very nervous, anxious and fearful,but tried not to show it. Felix and Ida were forced to leave their jobs, I was almost done with College. Financially we were struggling. Ida started selling some of her clothes, shoes, dishes, even furniture. We decided that it will be easier on everyone if I would go and live with my parents until we get permission from the Government to leave the country. In the middle of May, as soon as I was done with my final exams, I took the baby and left Kiev to live with my parents. My Mom still did not want to accept the fact that we are going to leave. She did not want to even talk about it. I was trying very gently to tell her and my Dad that we had no chance making a normal life for ourselves here, that it is a perfect time to escape this misery while the iron curtain is slightly open. One episode is so fresh in my memory, when my Mom said for the first time: "Maybe you are right". We had a tomato in the refrigerator and my brother who was 14 years old (and growing!)  at that time, came home from school and ate it. Yes, he ate a tomato. My mother screamed and yelled at him:"It was for the baby! What were you thinking?!?" The look of hurt, question and pain in my brother's eyes was unbearable. He did not cry, but I did.
One night I woke up from a frightening almost barking sound of  Masha's cough. It became worse and worse by the hour. Next day in the afternoon, we had to call the ambulance and they took us to the hospital, hospital for infectious disease. I hated and feared that hospital. My Grandfather died there and I was "held" a prisoner there for almost a month when I was only 7 years old. Masha had a croup. She had a very high fever, horrible dry "barking seal" cough, she had hard time breathing. As soon as we were admitted to the hospital, a nurse took the baby from my arms and brought her to the "steam room" they called it. She had a basin with scalding hot water and without even checking the temperature of the water, she put Masha's legs in it. I touched water with my hands, and screamed that it was boiling hot, but the nurse did not even acknowledged my cries. Baby was screaming and kicking her little legs, I was fighting with the "Nazi-nurse", but she was so much bigger and stronger then me. It seemed forever, until another nurse came in and wrestled my baby from her. Masha's legs and my hands were red, burned. But I did not feel the pain. I was so angry, so concerned for the baby... They put some kind of ointment on the burns and took us a long time to calm her down. Thankfully, I nursed her at that time. We were in the room with about 14 other patients. Bed was very narrow, with saggy mattress, so I was sitting on the chair all night, listening to my baby breath. People were crying and coughing all around us. I fell asleep and woke up sitting on the floor, with my head on the bed. That's how we spent almost 2 weeks. Doctors were coming once a day to check on patients and their progress. While I was in the hospital two children died and we watched with horror their grieving parents escorting the stretchers. If you don't know what fear is, that's how I would describe it: Fear to lose something so dear and important to you, fear to lose your child. I was so determine to get out of this horrible place. In 2 weeks, which felt like an eternity,  they let us go. Again, I felt that I escaped from a prison! But we left the hospital with a present: both of us had head lice. Oh, what a joy... We had to shave my baby's beautiful curls and cut my long hair.

Baby Masha after the hospital. "Where are my curls?"