The skies were quiet and Mohammed Ashour was finally safe, but for days after leaving Gaza, the 13-year-old was unable to sleep. He had made it to a cancer-treatment center in Jordan, yet he could not stop thinking about what he had left behind.
His family had sought shelter in a two-bedroom apartment, crammed with about 70 relatives after fleeing the fighting in Gaza. When they left for Jordan, the stocks of flour were empty. “What would the family who stayed behind have for dinner?” Mohammed recalls wondering during his sleepless nights.
Israeli officials reported that more than 4,000 patients had exited Gaza for medical treatment since the war began. However, as of late June, over 10,000 people in the enclave required urgent medical care that was available only elsewhere, according to the World Health Organization.
For the small number of Gazan cancer patients receiving care in Jordan’s capital, Amman, this knowledge brings additional burdens. Alongside their illness, they grapple with feelings of guilt, fear, and homesickness.
When the Israeli military began bombing Gaza in response to the Hamas-led attack on Israel on October 7, Mohammed expressed that the sound of airstrikes was what he hated most. The smells following an explosion also troubled him, making his breathing difficult.
Diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma before the war in January 2023, Mohammed's mother, Maha, was determined to get him abroad for treatment. Even prior to the conflict, many Gazans had to travel for lifesaving medical care due to a struggling health sector under a blockade by Israel and Egypt, which intensified after Hamas took control. Obtaining permits to leave Gaza became increasingly complicated and costly after the war began.
Maha insisted that the entire family leave together, as she could not imagine abandoning her husband and other children. St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital assisted the family in reaching the King Hussein Cancer Center in Amman.
Before the war, the center had approximately two dozen cancer patients from Gaza. Last month, this number rose to five adults and 49 children receiving treatment, food, and accommodation.
Most patients are housed a seven-minute car ride from the hospital, on the fourth floor of an Amman hotel, where Mohammed has been staying with his mother, who prepares meals for him.
Doctors advised Mohammed not to socialize much after his bone-marrow transplant compromised his immune system. However, the smell of his mother’s cooking draws other children to their door, seeking tastes and taking turns on Mohammed’s PlayStation, which he had hidden in a bag when his family fled central Gaza.
Maha also helps care for some of the other children, as not all were able to leave Gaza with their mothers. She noted that the fourth floor has developed a sense of community amidst uncertainty. “Our destiny is ambiguous,” she said. “Where can we go once Mohammed’s treatment is over here in Amman? Even if we are allowed to go back to Gaza, everything is destroyed.”
Another patient at the center, Hussam Shehadeh, a 52-year-old man battling Stage 4 cancer, shares similar feelings of uncertainty. “I left the physical war behind, but I entered the psychological one,” he said, expressing concern for his family still in Gaza.
Information about his family is often scarce, with communication sometimes cut off for days. “What if I die without seeing them?” he fears. Hussam left Gaza 20 days before the war began, after doctors discovered a brain tumor that could not be treated there. He underwent surgery in Amman, which affected his movement, but the emotional toll of enduring his illness alone has been the hardest part.
His wife recently joined him in Amman, but he continues to call home frequently, troubled by how his 15-year-old son sounds, as if he has aged significantly in a short time. Hussam, a former director of a cultural center in Gaza, keeps the TV on all day, learning about the deaths of friends and expressing a sense of envy for those who have died.
Mohammed Abdel Hadi, also 13, left his family in Gaza for treatment in Amman, facing a more challenging separation. After arriving at the King Hussein Cancer Center, he locked himself in his room and refused treatment until his parents joined him. A call from his mother, who was in their partially destroyed home in Gaza, ultimately coaxed him out.
Diagnosed with acute leukemia during his summer vacation in July 2023, Mohammed had to wait two months for paperwork to seek treatment in Jerusalem. He spent 35 days there before returning home, only to flee with thousands to seek shelter as the war began.
Despite the bombardment, he managed to attend a treatment session at a local hospital, recalling the terror of explosions nearby. Fearing that cancer care would become inaccessible, his parents decided to get him out of Gaza. After obtaining permits, he left through the Rafah border crossing with Egypt, accompanied by his uncle.
After waiting in Cairo for the necessary paperwork, Mohammed and his uncle arrived in Amman on December 23, where he began treatment and enrolled in school. Although initially challenging due to language barriers, he has made new friends who care for him. However, he longs to return home. “Once the war ends, I want to go back to Gaza,” he said. “I miss the sea.”