Surgeries for Ukrainian service members that are changing global medicine
The maxillofacial surgery ward is crowded. Men in civilian clothes and uniforms cluster by the exam rooms, wearing dark glasses or eye bandages. Among them — Oleksandr, who needs an ocular prosthesis after being wounded. So does Andrii. Ivan’s eye survived, but a fragment damaged the muscle and now he cannot open his eyelid. Rafael needs a 3D implant above the along his brow/orbital rim because part of his bone is missing there. Over the course of a week, they and dozens of other service members will receive consultations and free surgeries from leading ophthalmologists from the United States and Ukraine, in cases so complex that in the past, patients did not survive them. Frontliner went into the operating rooms and documented how the doctors work.
Soldier Oleksandr Neminskyi is invited into the examination room where doctors are waiting — he has been struggling with the effects of combat trauma for eight months. First, his damaged eye was removed, and a titanium plate was inserted into his skull. Then his eye socket was closed with a plastic conformer (a temporary spacer that maintains the shape of the eye socket), and the shrapnel was removed from his face. But without systematic rehabilitation, the road to recovery remains difficult.
After the injury, nobody needs us. No one wants to look after us.
Together with his wife, he looks for help among volunteers. Recently, the couple applied to take part in the Vision for Ukraine mission. The visit of three American surgeons was organized jointly by several foundations: the Christian Medical Association of Ukraine, Razom for Ukraine, LEAP Global Missions, and Ed’s Friends. Behind each mission are hours of planning and cooperation by dedicated people, explains one of the initiative’s founders, Ed Ma.
Will this community help soldiers feel that they are not alone with their trauma? Their help is needed. Head and neck wounds now account for about one in four combat injuries among Ukrainian service members, according to a Jan. 28, 2025, report in BMJ Military Health. An analysis of patient records from multiple medical centers covering 415 blast and gunshot patients, published April 20, 2025, in Archives of Craniofacial Surgery, found that about 50% had eye injuries and 9% had lost an eye.
In one day, doctors examined seventy soldiers
In a bright office, Oleksandr sits down. Behind him stands a long table laid out with sheets of black-and-white photographs. On them are dozens of faces — men with craniofacial injuries. Doctor Pavla Ivaniuta picks up one of the photos.
“In March 2025 he had an examination. We placed an internal ocular implant,” she tells her American colleague.
A man in a polo shirt and trekking pants listens attentively to her. This is Stuart Seiff, a surgeon from San Francisco with forty years of experience. However, he admits that in Ukraine he is dealing with cases he has never seen before. The patient complains of watery eyes and discomfort. Dr. Seiff puts on magnifying loupes over his glasses and examines Oleksandr. He uses a gauze pad to check for fluid in the eye socket.
“The problem is probably the eyelashes,” he says, and suggests lengthening the socket and placing an amniotic membrane (a graft from placental tissue used to reconstruct the ocular surface) to replace the tear lining.
Pavla writes down the recommendations.
“You can go home for now, I will call you and schedule the surgery,” she tells Oleksandr.
Next, a fit man wearing sunglasses enters the office. A black T-shirt frames the tattoos on his arms. On his right wrist is a tattoo of the Ukrainian word “Volia,” which means will/freedom. The man sits down in a chair, removes his glasses and the bandage from his right eye. A scar cuts across his brow and ends at his empty eye socket. Andrii Dunaiev, a soldier from the Volyn Region in western Ukraine, was wounded in the east. He recalls that he completely lost his sight as soon as the explosion occurred. Doctors managed to save his other eye, but Andrii can barely see out of it.
The doctors pick up the pace and the examination goes quickly. Stuart insists that plastic surgery should be performed near the scar and only then should a prosthesis be made. Andrii is discharged, but he will return on Monday.
Awake procedures and under general anesthesia
Surgeries began in the morning. The schedule is tight, with surgical procedures being performed simultaneously in three operating rooms. Right now, surgeons Dave Russell and Olha Denysiuk are operating on a soldier who cannot open his eyelids. The man is covered with a surgical drape, his face and legs visible underneath. The surgeons work intently to the sound of music. Olha instructs Siri to switch songs, and Mr. President’s 1996 Eurodance hit “Coco Jambo” begins to play in the operating room.
Shortly after the operation begins, the patient moves. Then he crosses his legs. He remains conscious throughout the operation while sedatives are administered intravenously. During delicate surgical procedures, doctors have to stay in contact with him.
“How are you feeling? — Olha asks, then reassures him: — We will press on the eye a little. Don’t worry, this is Olha Yuriyivna. Your eye is fully protected; we will not damage it in any way.”
Amid the low music, the doctors’ exchanges, and the hum of machines, a new sound is heard. The patient starts to snore.
“We need to wake him a little,” Olha Denysiuk tells the anesthesiologist.
An unexpected reply comes from the operating table: “Don’t wake me, no need.” Laughter breaks out in the operating room. Olha gives the patient instructions: look up, down.
A large crowd of observers has gathered in the larger suite. Nurses, interns, and medical students keep their eyes fixed on the surgeons’ meditative work as they prepare the patient for a 3D implant. After the injury, Rafael Akhmedov lost part of the bone above the eye socket and the eye itself. Now images of his skull from every angle are taped to the white tile in the operating room. The surgeons glance at the wall again and again and continue the operation.
Here and now, Ukrainian and foreign doctors are developing new practices that could change medicine. In the past, patients did not survive such injuries, the surgeons explain. As a result, there are no established treatment pathways
The Americans hope not only to return veterans’ recognizable faces, but also to restore their sense of confidence. After sleepless nights under Russian attacks, the American and Ukrainian doctors head back to the operating rooms. Because patients are waiting for them.
Author: Diana Deliurman
Adapted: Jared Goyette
Read more — “You Are Not Alone”: The American Surgeons Helping Ukraine’s Wounded Warriors
