Surviving the blast
2005-03-11 07:49
Madrid - The checklist of Jesus Ramirez's injuries is gruesome: horribly burned legs and shrapnel in his lungs and back. He feels aged beyond his years and guilty to be alive, and dreams about missing the train that almost took his life.
Ramirez, a graphic designer, had just boarded a Madrid commuter train on the overcast morning of March 11 of last year and was looking for a seat to settle down with his newspaper when one of 10 backpack bombs placed by Muslim militants detonated, killing 191 people and wounding more than 1 500.
He spent 15 days in critical condition, clinging somewhere between life and death, his body riddled with metal and glass. He is still seeing doctors and a therapist, and cringes at the very sight of himself.
"It has been a dramatic year, a lost year, one of hospitals, of looking at the mirror and seeing yourself covered with scars. It is a year to forget," said Ramirez, haggard looking at 50.
As Spain marks the anniversary of the attack, Ramirez is one of many survivors overwhelmed by post-traumatic stress syndrome, medical ailments, disfigurement, disabilities that prevent work and strained family ties.
Of those who were injured, less than half have come to terms with their tragedy and moved on with their lives, said Marisa Perles, a psychologist who has been working closely with victims since the week after the attacks. Among the rest, many are still struggling to understand their brush with death.
Ramirez says that in his dreams, he deliberately delays the moment he stopped at a newsstand to buy the paper and instead waits calmly for another train.
'You think it's unfair'
"You think it's unfair that you have survived. You feel guilty to be alive, and I often ask myself what happened to the person who was travelling next to me," he said.
Psychologists and therapists say it's even tougher for people who were not on one of the four bombed trains but lost someone in the attack. They long for those loved ones to whom they never got to say goodbye.
"For them, it's like they're still at the beginning of a crisis," said Perles. These people have deep and potentially lost-lasting psychological woes such as anxiety, fear, anger and depression.
Over the past year, Perles has worked with a group of 15 victims - survivors and their families - to keep them thinking positive. They held a photo exhibit of things they hold precious, like the sky, or a pet, or a prized personal possession such as a watch.
They've dabbled in ceramics and painting, exchanged visits with other mourning families and even taken a train ride to simulate the journey their relatives never finished.
Patients have improved, but Perles said she expects anniversary relapses.
"The first year, the pain is extremely intense," Perles said.
The Association of Victims of March 11, of which Ramirez is vice president, has said it does not want to participate in any big anniversary ceremony.
Instead, members will mourn privately. In line with the association's wishes, the government of Prime Minister Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero has promised low-key remembrances and called for five minutes of silence starting at noon Friday.
But Juan Antonio Diaz, who survived the blast at Atocha train station as he waited for a train, said he will watch and record any March 11 memorial programmes on TV. For him, March 11 will provide a reminder of life's fragility.
"I'm lucky compared to those who were killed or are disabled," said Diaz, 49.
The stocky, bearded industrial worker suffered amnesia in the blast but knew something big had happened as he watched TV footage of the bombings when he regained consciousness five days later in the hospital.
He had internal damage in his skull and lost more than 70% of his sight after doctors operated on his left eye. His amnesia meant he didn't remember that his father had died two years ago.
Months after he left the hospital, he suffered depression while on sick leave from work. He took long, aimless walks just to make himself feel exhausted.
"I felt useless, empty. I was looking for a reason to live. I had never felt that way," said Diaz.
Through patience and support from his wife and their two children, he has put on weight and has gone back to work, almost feeling like a normal person again. He has also regained most of his memory - although he can't recall the bombing.
He has also tried not to let it affect his family life, although he knows it has.
"He's more introverted, more vehement and more sensitive. His eyes fill with tears at the first hint of any emotion. He's not the same anymore. He has changed after the bombings," said his wife, Almudena.
But still, a year later, both Diaz and Ramirez are convinced that life is worth living.
"An attack can happen everywhere, in a cinema, in a market, in a soccer stadium. You can't withdraw into yourself," Ramirez said. "Life is to be lived with its risks."
- AP