Jean is not in her usual dialysis room, but in a small beige room nearby. The hum of the generator fills the small space, as his hemodialysis treatment has already begun. It will take at least three hours. The pumps constantly work to clean your blood before sending it back into your veins. While lying in bed, Jean, in his 70s and from the Baalbeck region of eastern Lebanon, does not seem to pay attention to the tubes connecting his left arm to the machine.
“It’s difficult to have a chronic illness in times of war because you have to travel under bombs,” he says. “I have to do dialysis three times a week.”
Jean was diagnosed with kidney failure three years and two months ago. Keep score, probably because the disease changed his life. Without treatment, Jean faces certain death.

Receiving treatment has become increasingly difficult since the war broke out. Traveling, even to a hospital, now carries serious risks. According to the Lebanese Ministry of Health, around 10 hospitals are already out of service and around a hundred more health establishments have had to close due to their dangerous location.
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“The hospital (where I usually go) is not closed, but it is in an area that is being bombed all the time,” says Jean. “Some patients are still there, but those who could leave, left.”
Just like he did.
Jean and her family fled their village, Haouch Barada, following an evacuation order issued by the Israeli army. The Christian-Shia Muslim village was then the target of a particularly intense bombing campaign as Hezbollah was reportedly hiding weapons and ammunition there. Most of the residents fled.
“Those who stayed had no choice. They didn’t know where to go or they didn’t have the financial means to do so,” he says, his voice heavy.
All personnel mobilized
Since then, Jean and her loved ones have been lucky enough to find a rental apartment not far from the Sacré-Cœur.
“We didn’t receive any instructions (about how to continue treatment). Everyone just had to do the best they could.”
The nonprofit facility, run by the Sisters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, has been requested by several hospitals to help care for their patients, as well as the Ministry of Health.

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“When the bombing began, we received patients from the south, from the Baalbek region and from Dahiyeh (a suburb south of Beirut), who were receiving their dialysis treatments at the Al Sahel hospital,” explains the center’s director, Waafa Abi Haidar. “We had to mobilize all our staff to receive them and continue treatment. Right now, this department is treating eight more patients than usual.”
‘The hospital has seen many wars’
Although airstrikes have intensified on residential areas that have no direct or indirect links to Hezbollah, the hospital is not overwhelmed. At least not yet.
At the moment, the hospital is treating 11 people who have been injured in Israeli airstrikes, a far cry from the numerous casualties seen during the 2024 Israel-Hezbollah war.

“The hospital has existed since 1848. It has witnessed many wars in Lebanon,” says wryly Sister Lamia Tamer, who oversees the facility’s social services.
“Unfortunately, this is nothing new. ‘Plan B’, which was established in 2024, has been reactivated. Our operations have changed, of course, because we receive injured and displaced people. About 50 of our personnel have also been displaced.”
But regardless of the circumstances, the Sacré-Cœur is determined to continue treating patients at all costs.
“I have already thought of several solutions, such as calling nurses who are no longer working or health workers whose facilities are currently closed,” explains Abi Haidar. “There must be personnel that we can integrate to manage more shifts.”

Displaced nurses and doctors
The resident doctors at the Sacré-Cœur, some of whom live on the same premises, are already providing decisive help.
“It is difficult to get to the hospital because it is close to the areas where the strikes are taking place,” says Teresa Choufani, a resident doctor who is in her sixth year.
“The roads are not always safe and some resident doctors have been displaced very far from here. That’s why we now have a special schedule that allows us to alternate shifts and not be here every day.”
Israel has ordered its military to prepare to “expand operations in Lebanon” and the hospital fears the worst is yet to come.
“We are preparing for all scenarios,” says Abi Haidar. “We have done simulations and training sessions to be able to handle a surge of patients. Our role is to treat people. We hope nothing happens, but we are preparing for it.”

Rely on donations
If the war drags on or casualties begin to rise, the hospital could quickly run into difficulties.
“The Sacré-Cœur is self-financing,” explains Sister Lamia. “If there was an influx of wounded, we couldn’t manage without donations. In 2024, we were only able to operate thanks to private donations. Once again, we now rely on everyone’s generosity.”
Elsewhere in the hospital, Jean continues receiving her treatment. Connected to the hemodialysis machine, he thinks about his home in Haouch Barada. Every two days he makes the 1.5-hour trip to return and make sure his house is still standing.
“I want to return to my town,” he says. “That’s what matters most.”
This article was adapted from the French original by Louise Nordstrom.






