The story of the life of a nurse whose wife died in the battle of Ramadan

A woman with a white robe and a heart full of love for her husband; She has not given up her nursing service and gives life to patients.

According to Ambassador Arjan, in the crowded corridors of Baqiyatullah Hospital (AS), amidst the monotonous sound of the machines and the constant movement of the medical staff, a woman in a white gown is serving, who has a fresh and deep warmth in her heart. Ms. "Mohaddeh Abdul Rahimi", is a nurse of this hospital and the wife of martyr "Mustafa Mokhtarzadeh". The elite and young man of the aerospace field who was martyred on March 12 during the Ramadan war.

In the conversation with Ambassador Arjan, which was held under the pretext of Nurse's Day, Abdul Rahimi's memories are tied to the turning point of his life from the very beginning; To the days of choosing a major, being with his wife and the bitter day when the news of his flight arrived.

Chosen according to Hazrat Zainab (pbuh)

The story of Muhaddeh entering the white nursing dress goes back to the last days of the pre-university course; The days when he was newly married and it was time to choose the entrance exam.

"I got married during the pre-university course and I had not yet chosen my entrance exam course. It was time to choose a major with my wife; The first option he chose for me was nursing. My mother said that she has a night shift nurse, my daughter is an only girl and has guilt, she gets tired and has to go to work on holidays. But I myself was very willing and my wife confidently said no, it is better to go to nursing. At that time, he himself was the defender of the shrine, he kept visiting the shrine of Hazrat Zainab (pbuh), and he told me that he would like you to be a nurse like Hazrat Zainab (pbuh).

Until the last days, his wife not only encouraged his work, but also insisted that he continue his education and be accurate, correct and honest in his work.

"Whenever someone asked him what his wife's job was, he answered with pride. I could see the pleasure in his eyes when he said: "She is a nurse."

The last farewell and the phone that remained switched off

The narrative of the last shift and the last meeting is bitterly engraved in his mind. His wife followed him to the hospital after his shift.

"Our house was in the military town, but that day my wife came after me and brought me to the city to my family. I was supposed to be back on Tuesday for the next shift. On the same day, I called them to come, but his phone was switched off. After a few hours, we found out that he was targeted at his workplace and was martyred."

Now Shahid Mokhtarzadeh is survived by two sons; Amirreza and his little brother, who is not yet 5 years old, and his mother bears the heavy burden of taking care of two young children on her own, along with hard treatment shifts.

Working in the department where critically ill patients are hospitalized is associated with intensive shifts, insomnia and constant stress; The stress that doesn't leave them even during the one or two hour break of the treatment staff: "You are constantly thinking that something might happen to the patient in that short time; Because we are responsible for his life."

But among all these fatigues, one memory always comes to life in front of Mrs. Abdul Rahimi's eyes.

"Fridays were family days and my wife did not go to work. Sometimes, when I was on shift on Fridays, despite the distance of about an hour from home to the hospital, he would pick up the children and come to me. Even with a single flower, I'm exhausted for the entire shift. I still keep those flowers in my compartment. When colleagues and others see and ask, I say that it is the memory of my martyr. Everyone is aware of this dry flower and they say that every time they see it, they send blessings to the martyr."

After the martyrdom of Engineer Mokhtarzadeh, banners and messages of condolence were installed on the door and wall of Baqiyatullah Hospital, but he himself preferred to keep his sadness in his heart and not withhold a smile from the patient. Until the night when one of the patients unintentionally tore his heartstrings:

"It was the night shift and I was giving medicine to the patient. I noticed that the patient and his companion are talking about the same banners. They said: "We don't know this Mrs. Abdur Rahimi; God willing, she is not young, God willing, her wife is not young, God willing, she doesn't have children at all who was martyred like this..." I heard all these sentences and prayers and kept silent. Behind the mask, I was just crying and couldn't speak at all. Suddenly, the patient's eyes fell on the label on my chest. He said in surprise: "Miss, is it you?" I said yes. I always tried to smile in front of the patient, but at that moment I couldn't stop crying at all. As I was shedding tears, I said: Madam, all those prayers you prayed were true; "I am young, my wife was young, and I have two children... The patient was very ashamed and apologized for changing my mood."