'70% of dignity is a normal toilet'. Interview with Oleksandr Tereshchenko, defender of Donetsk airport

What is the military's "bunny” or “kitty" complex? Why is it better to buy a good toilet than a car with a wounded soldier's allowance? How can soldiers find motivation? Oleksandr Tereshchenko, a veteran of the Russo-Ukrainian war and a defender of the Donetsk airport, shared his thoughts on these issues with hromadske.

In October 2014, militants threw a grenade at his position, where he was with his comrades. Instinctively, the soldier grabbed it to throw it away. But it exploded in his hands. Oleksandr lost his right arm and left hand, and went blind in his right eye.

The doctor marked the time of the injury on the tourniquet as 4:30 p.m. Later the warrior will write a book: "Life after 4:30 p.m. Seven Years Later", will serve as Deputy Minister of Veterans Affairs of Ukraine, and work at the Patrol Police Academy. Now he volunteers for the Ukrainian front in Lithuania, and a charity fund named after him helps heroes who lost their eyesight in the war.

 Military beggars can appear because of a compassionate attitude

What was the most difficult thing after your injury? 

The way people perceive me. I was worried that I looked helpless from the outside. Because I quickly accepted myself. And these looks with tears in their eyes, this pity, sympathy... Sometimes they would cross me or look at me eloquently, saying, "Why haven't you committed suicide yet? Someone would come up to me: "My God, my God, what is this?" 

It attracted attention, and it seemed like everyone in the world was staring at you. For a long time I did not dare to use public transportation, I asked my wife to take a taxi. I didn't go out because of these reactions.

Nowadays, there is a very strong demand in society for how to perceive people with amputations, without sight, and in wheelchairs. In particular, the media spreads advice: how to do it and how not to do it. Can you feel the changes?

All the guys complain that they have all had such incidents. One was sitting in a wheelchair, waiting for his wife to return from the store, and an old lady came up: "Do you want me to feed you?" Another, without a leg, was drinking coffee on the street, and they put money in his cup because they thought he was begging.

The other day in Kyiv, I was riding the subway to visit friends. The girl sitting opposite me bowed on the way out: "Thank you." And when I was walking across the crosswalk, another woman caught up with me and shoved money into my pocket. I couldn't fight back because I don't have an arm on that side.

So there are changes, but only 50-50. It is young people who are learning to perceive people with amputations and without sight differently. This "thank you" from the girl in the subway is unobtrusive. As for me, it's the right thing to do: devoid of excessive emotionality, witthout attracting unnecessary attention.

A veteran will be pleased to hear it: "thank you for your service," "thank you for protecting us," or simply when they bow their heads and put their hands to their hearts. I would like to ask you not to use words like "brace yourself," because it sounds like something irreparable has happened. If a person is already traveling in public transport or has gone out, it means that they have come to accept themselves. They don't want to feel special.

For older people, money is a measure of respect or compensation for their guilt that they are alive and well. They think that people with canes, wheelchairs, and amputations are lonely, hungry, and have no money. But they can be successful, so such attempts to support them are offensive.

And if there are or have been instances of military beggars, it could be attributed to such a compassionate approach. During times of war, there is a diverse array of individuals, and some may opt for the path of least resistance.

This phenomenon, often referred to as the 'bunny' or 'kitty' complex (killing with kindness - ed.), originates in the hospital, where everyone pampers you, expressing gratitude and being willing to offer anything. It creates a conducive environment for individuals who were already inclined to avoid taking responsibility even before the war.

We do not know exactly how many veterans there are

The other day I interviewed a psychologist Larysa Didkovska. And she said the following (not included in the article - ed.): people with injuries that lead to amputations, loss of vision, etc. can have three strategies of behavior. The first is seclusion: isolation because of the feeling that I am different. The second one is hypercompensatory: people compensate for their limitations, i.e. prove their success, fullness and capability. The third one is in the middle: the serviceman realizes that something will be inaccessible to him, but this does not mean he is doomed. It means extra effort. For example, a blind person will have to learn to walk with a cane, and a person in a wheelchair will have to use ramps. It's up to the person to decide which of these three paths they will take. 

You probably belong to the second type: you hold various positions, run marathons, wrote a book, volunteer. You prove to yourself and the world that you can do it.

For me, there is nothing worse than helplessness. Even in civilian life, because I could do everything with my own hands: build, install electricity, and repair equipment. For me, asking for help with such work is helplessness. That is why it is still painful for me.

In 2014, after I was injured, my story made a lot of noise: Donetsk airport is such a landmark, and there have never been such severe injuries in Ukraine. I was greeted like a superhero who had saved the world from aliens.

Ordinary people came to the hospital to thank me, and men cried that they did not dare to go to war. There were a lot of stories about me, and the support was overwhelming. They raised money for my first, then mechanical, prostheses. I decided to return the favor and help others.

In 2016, I opened my first foundation, and then I focused entirely on government work: I was invited to be a deputy minister in the newly created Ministry of Veterans Affairs. It was hard physically, I was exhausted, but I got moral satisfaction from the fact that I could do good in my country. And I forgot about the physical special needs.

When the invasion began, I did not think that I would feel so overwhelmed by the feeling that I could not fight. My conscience was gnawing at me, as if I had got myself out when it was not so difficult. And when the news of my friends' deaths started coming, I didn't know what to do.

I have friends in Lithuania who helped me with bulletproof vests and helmets at first. And then they invited me to come to them. There I met Lithuanian volunteers, and now we are raising money for cars and drones, as well as for rehabilitation for soldiers who lost their eyesight at the front.

I opened another charitable foundation, and now both of them are working: one has a Ukrainian account and the other a European one. They are named after me because I am personally responsible for every penny.

It is this help to others that pulls me through in the first place. I think I have achieved more after my injury than when I was healthy.

Nowadays there are a lot of different organizations that help the wounded. Do they compete with each other or duplicate each other? And doesn't the state gather all veterans "under one wing"?

According to the Minister of Veterans Affairs of Ukraine, the Unified State Register of Veterans has been created, but for security reasons it will be launched after our victory. Accordingly, we do not know exactly how many there are. So far, each ministry has its own lists. The Ministry of Social Policy has all categories of people who have benefits: people with disabilities, Chornobyl victims, and veterans in particular. The Ministry of Veterans' Affairs has combatants.

The e-Veteran platform, which is supposed to work like state services portal Diia, now functions as an information website. There are no personal accounts where a particular veteran could find out what specific benefits he or she has.

As for international programs, there are many of them, and it is often difficult for them to find a veteran, and for a veteran to find them. There is no coordination at the state level and between foundations. Each of them is doing something, initiatives are often duplicated, and no one controls this or brings it to a common denominator. So in the end a fighter gets on TV, becomes famous and is invited for treatment and rehabilitation 2-3 times. And someone else sits there and doesn't know what's going on.

Let's say, for example, that an organization has won a grant for a project. And, for example, they organize locations for the blind at hospitals and rehabilitation centers. It's popular now. The sad thing is that the grant money will run out and the program will be closed in a few months. And then no one will take care of these blind people. Therefore, there must be interaction between organizations, a systematic approach: one initiative does one thing, the other leads to the next stage.

Several charitable organizations and foundations have recently held a conference in Kyiv to promote such cooperation. We will not leave the guys and girls who lost their eyesight in the war to their own devices.

If you depend on people, it is a great embarrassment

In your interviews, you often repeat that wounded and amputated soldiers need to find motivation within themselves. Where can you find it when you don't even want to live? It also requires resources.

Of course, immediately after being wounded, this is out of the question. I don't go to the guys with pretentious slogans: "Come on, you can do it!", "Go ahead! Life is beautiful!", "You're awesome, everything will be fine". I show them how to cope with basic needs: a toilet, a shower, food. So that people realize that it is achievable, that these are not some fantastic stories. And I understand perfectly well that if a person cannot go to the toilet, what kind of travel abroad can we talk about. We start with simple things.

Motivation comes at the stage of self-acceptance. I tell all veterans the same thing: I cannot care more about your life than you do. If you want to achieve something, dream about something, write it down and think: why can't I do it? What is stopping me? And then divide each individual point: is it a stereotype, or you really can't do it.

You can live like this: you wake up, eat three meals, go to the bathroom a few times, smoke, watch TV. That's the way you spend your day. But you need to want to wake up and do something. That's why I say look for something that interests you. Work, sports, art (Oleksandr started painting with acrylics with no experience, wrote a book, starting with posts on social media, and participates in runs in memory of his fallen comrades - ed.), ones can choose to help others.

Here I am, a motivation and rehabilitation counselor at the After Service Foundation. On the one hand, my appearance alone can affect a fighter, and he will think: "I don't have an arm, but he can manage without two, so I'll give it a try."

On the other hand, I tell them: "Guys, I'm not proving this to anyone, but to myself. I need this kind of activity, it's my adrenaline."

You recorded a video on Facebook in which you advise not to rush to buy a car or make repairs with the one-time payment you receive after being wounded. Instead, it should be spent on living arrangements to ensure the maximum level of independence for a person with a disability and to make life easier for the people who care for them. Could you elaborate?

The amount of money given is considerable, and there is a temptation to spend it on something significant at once. But you need to understand that if the person does not recover, they will have to live on a pension, and there may be no more opportunity to arrange their life.

Of course, you can continue to rely on volunteers or local authorities. But I'm in favor of taking responsibility and directing this money to improve the life of the person with a disability. Because if they are confined to their own home, everyone will pay the price.

I remembered what the psychologists said to my wife before the first meeting with me: "Are you ready to take him? Do you realize that you will have a child for life?" And now I repeat it to the wives of blind veterans: "Are you ready for this child to be a child, or do you want him to grow up?"

For this, we need to create conditions: additional technical means, equipment. First of all, so that a person can meet basic needs and physiological needs on his or her own. Any person in a wheelchair will say that 70% of dignity is a normal toilet. It's the same for me, because if you can't do it yourself and depend on people, it's a great humiliation and embarassment.

To do this, I bought a toilet with a bidet function, which is controlled by a remote control and fixed to the wall. It costs about $7,000, but I bought it for half that price because it was an unpopular color. It's also worth finding a good shower. I'm currently considering a jacuzzi, where water jets hit from different directions. This helps a person without hands to wash.

I advise you to think about all the corners of your home: a refrigerator of the right height for a person in a wheelchair, a stove with electronic ignition for someone like me, a microwave not touch-sensitive, but a push-button one for a blind person. A comfortable table and utensils so that a person can eat without assistance.

There are times when my wife attends courses - she is studying to become a pastry chef - for a week or two. And I don't want her to sit tied up next to me like a servant. If she wants to develop herself, I'm only happy and do everything for her peace of mind about how I'll cope this fortnight without her. I go to the shops myself, try to buy semi-finished products that I heat up. And in the morning I cook muesli or easy-to-cook porridge, which you pour boiling water over and that's it.

You can also buy a simulator to restore the damaged function faster.

I didn't want to commit suicide because of coyotes

You wrote a book called “Life After 4:30 p.m. Seven Years Later" about different situations in your life. Can you tell us a few?

There is a story there about how I justified to myself the impossibility of suicide. Speaking of reincarnation. For example, I decided to end my life. I committed suicide and was born in the next life as a baobab. Standing somewhere in Australia in the breeze for a thousand years seems to be a good idea. But a pack of coyotes who were separatists in their past lives will settle in that place. Every day they will go to the baobab tree and deliberately pee on it, and they will teach their children the same way. And I can't move, I'll be standing in this crap for 1,000 years. Even when I talk about it, it seems to me that these coyotes are somewhere nearby. That's why I don't want to commit suicide.

Is it easier for you to ask for help now than it was a few years ago?

The worst thing for me is still asking for help: I can wander for two hours and not ask how to get out. I have to do everything myself as much as possible. That's the kind of person I am. But at one forum for blind people, where I told them that I don't ask for help, the trainers came up and said that it was wrong. There is nothing wrong with asking. Moreover, people are willing to help — often they need it more than we do.

Over the years, I've gotten better and can ask, but only if it's something serious, like when my prosthesis started to come loose. Recently, I had a scary and funny incident at the same time. I was traveling in the Intercity train and went to the toilet. I took off my pants, and then the prosthesis started beeping, indicating that it was low on battery. This means that it is about to turn off, and if you hold your underpants or pants with it, you stay in that position. What do you do in such a situation? You scream: "Help me?” Luckily, I had time to immediately put it on charge. Since then, I have been checking it constantly.