Ukrainian Doctor Restores Hope and Faces for War Survivors

In the realm of healing, traditional plastic surgery often falls short when it comes to extensive injuries. That’s where innovation steps in! Imagine creating lifelike prosthetics for eyes, ears, and noses, utilizing cutting-edge technologies like facial scanning and 3D printing. This incredible work is accomplished in partnership with talented Ukrainian sculptors. These prosthetics are not just functional; they are designed to be aesthetically pleasing and comfortable, secured with adhesives or special magnets so that patients can face the world with confidence.

Crafting these prosthetics is no small feat—it’s an intricate process that comes with a hefty price tag, sometimes soaring to as much as €2,500 for a single piece. Yet, amidst the chaos of war, one dedicated individual is determined to make a difference. Filonenko generously offers these life-changing prosthetics free of charge to soldiers and civilians impacted by conflict, relying on the goodwill of volunteers and donations. His dedication is so profound that he often dips into his own pockets, viewing it as a mission rather than a job.

While his work brings immense relief, it doesn’t come without emotional toll. Each prosthetic is accompanied by a heartbreaking story of trauma and resilience.

Filonenko’s passion for facial prosthetics ignited before the war, as he worked with cancer patients battling the devastating effects of surgery.

“I initially spent years as a dentist in the private sector, focusing on dental care and making great strides. While I was making money, it never felt right to me to work solely for profit. It’s against my nature. I teamed up with a friend, a skilled surgeon, and together we performed countless surgeries over 15 years. He’s now a professor in maxillofacial surgery,” Filonenko shares.

As facial prosthetics were relatively undeveloped in Ukraine, Filonenko took the initiative to educate himself. He reached out to Western colleagues through social media, forging collaborations that would empower him to start crafting these vital prosthetics.

“In Ukraine, facial prosthetics were often lumped under dentistry, lacking recognition as a distinct specialty. Some individuals attempted to address the need, but it was hardly systematic. Personally, I couldn’t fathom how anyone could tell a patient, ‘You have no nose; just get used to it!’ There are instances where surgery isn’t feasible. A facial defect—be it a missing nose, eye, or ear—severely diminishes one’s quality of life. Instead of solutions, people are left to hide away, feeling hopeless. That’s simply unacceptable,” Filonenko states with conviction.

The journey to creating a facial prosthetic begins with scanning the patient’s face, generating a digital 3D model. This model serves as the blueprint for crafting a prosthetic that seamlessly fits the individual’s unique contours. An initial prototype is crafted and meticulously refined by a sculptor, who skillfully shapes it to mirror the lost feature. Ultimately, this prototype is transformed into a silicone prosthetic—flexible, comfortable, and ready for the real world.

So, how does Filonenko manage to provide these essential services for free?

“Honestly, I can’t say. If I dwelled on the logistics, I might never have embarked on this journey. Help comes from various sources, and I also earn some income through teaching prosthetics courses. Officially, everything appears fine in our healthcare system. But in reality, I have a soldier in my ward suffering because we’ve run out of painkillers. They’re stuck waiting for procurement while in agonizing pain. That’s the harsh truth,” he explains, underscoring the risk that comes with voicing these issues.

Filonenko points out a troubling reality: it’s not uncommon for the state to provide mismatched prosthetics, like giving a person who lost their right eye a prosthetic meant for the left, and then deeming it ‘good enough.’

“The government tends to be the least helpful. We’re fortunate that our lab operates under a private company, which allows us the freedom to act without interference. We’re not looking for funds from your government or, say, Estonia’s government. However, we do welcome any help that comes our way, and I ensure transparency with every receipt for every hryvnia, euro, or dollar spent,” he emphasizes.

How does Filonenko manage the emotional weight of his work?

“A close friend of mine—a professor—often states there are three ways to cope: suicide, alcohol, or love. That’s why I cherish my wife deeply; she’s my anchor,” he shares.

Filonenko adheres to a principle of keeping work at the workplace.

“I’ve recently started asking people not to share excessive details of their stories. While it may help them vent, that’s the role of psychologists—it’s their expertise,” he notes.

However, he admits that he has encountered his share of harrowing stories.

“I remember a young soldier who endured severe injuries on the front lines. After his recovery, he fell in love with a nurse who cared for him. They planned to marry, but while they were out in a city near the front, tragedy struck. The enemy was dropping grenades from drones, and one landed dangerously close. He heroically tried to throw it away, but it exploded, costing him his hands and vision. He was just 23. But the nurse survived thanks to his bravery,” Filonenko reflects, admitting that such tales can make focusing on work quite challenging.

What keeps Filonenko going? He’s eager to share the most rewarding aspects of his work.

“The most fulfilling moment is when someone regains a piece of their normal life. There was this one man who came home—his child was so frightened by his missing eye that they ran to another room. After we crafted a prosthetic eye for him, I don’t know what happened next, but he was able to connect with his child again. That’s beyond moving,” he recalls.

The most poignant moments occur when someone tries on their new prosthetic for the very first time.

“When they look in the mirror and exclaim, ‘Oh, I have hope!’ that hope is truly the most precious gift we can offer,” he emphasizes.

In the streets of Ukraine, amputees are a common sight. Has this reality shifted perceptions of individuals with disabilities?

“From what I’ve seen, people are less likely to point fingers or mock those with disabilities. Instead, they tend to look away, feeling uncomfortable. But this avoidance can hurt even more—those affected may feel invisible,” Filonenko explains.

He recalls a conversation with someone who lost a leg, expressing feelings of worthlessness, as if they didn’t even deserve attention from others.

“I can’t fathom the horror of suddenly losing one’s sight, like a light being extinguished. Just imagining it is terrifying. But gradually losing sight? That’s a different kind of trauma. Instant loss is an unbearable reality,” he reflects.

Does war cultivate empathy in ordinary people?

“I truly believe it does. Many have shared with me how the war has transformed their outlook on life and priorities. But for me, my values have always remained steadfast. I’ve never chased after extravagant desires like a flashy car. My beliefs have only grown stronger through this experience. I used to feel like an oddball, but I’ve come to realize that if others see things differently, that’s their issue, not mine. I hope more people embrace this perspective. But ultimately, everyone is different and deserves respect, no matter their situation,” Filonenko concludes.