In the hospital room in Tripoli are completely inseparable. While he is in a hospital bed, she sits next to him and talks to him, laughing at him. Next to his bed, on the floor, there is a small mattress on which she sleeps. She is Qhorqha, a 43-year-old owner of a wedding dress from Homs, who, for him, 28-year-old physiotherapist Abedom came to Lebanon in Tripoli after being wounded in one shelling, managed to escape.

And only a month ago they did not even know each other. They were just friends on Facebook and it was quite accidentally because she was the mother of one of her dear friends. In that month, Abed worried about the other wounded in the same hospital in which he was wounded. Until the start of the war in Homs, he led his small pharmacist happy with his life in Syria. Homs was then completely occupied and shot daily. The wounded were everywhere. Abed then decides to join the medical team in an improvised hospital where there are only seven doctors and 15 nurses, she tells me. Only one of them was a surgeon, there were other cardiologists, gynecologists, dentists etc.

- We had very little needed medication. My job was devastated, picked out all the bumps, infusions and the rest from the right, wounded hospital. It was not nearly enough for all the wounded who came every bit, but we totally gave them up - she tells Abed about the time when she managed to meet with Qhorqh.

She read her statuses on Facebook and realized what the chaos was about. She asked him if he needed help and came to help the hospital. That morning, February 5, Abed had started shifts, and from 5 am preparing for the surgery room, knowing that many wounders would come to them on that day. He did not even pretend to prepare the salon for himself.

- About six in the morning shelling started, and the first wounded came for 45 minutes later. I was out in front of the hospital to help people when the grenade fell to the hospital. I felt that I was hit, and then I saw my leg completely in the blood - Abed recounts as Qhorqha sits next to him and adds that four of these people were killed and four were wounded. Abed was placed in the women's department because in the meantime the gunman had been sent for him and knew that he was being sought because he was considered to have helped the rebels. The hospital was seven days old when the surgeon, the man with whom he helped many in the course of those months, asked to leave because the army would surely go in search of it again.

Qhorqha then decides on a deadly plan - a flight to Lebanon. In the meantime, they went to the house and looked at her. But they were already in the neighboring village where they had been hiding for five days seeking the ideal time to continue the escape. His leg was in the plaster, but he was very sick. Another operation was needed. After five days they went to the border through fields and macadamas in his dictation. When they reached the border, Abed paid a man to cross it. Qhorqha decided to go back and split.

"Nearly a month later, I received a message from my cousin that he was alive and in hospital. Meanwhile, I was helping the hospital by hiding from the army. A few days later I decided to visit him, which I did, says Qhorqah.

She did it in her own way and then stayed with her for a week.

"Then I realized that she was more of a friend than me, perhaps even more than a sister," Abed adds in Arabic, and I quote Qhorqha, crying with tears, translating with a smile.

After a week, they agreed that Qhorqha would go back to helping the wounded in other cities. But when he came to the limit, he decided to return to him. She turned and went to the room where she was sleeping today on a small mattress. Except Abed, he also helps other wounded people to socialize with them while Abed is asleep. She sticks them all the time and laughed at what I was convinced when I met in the other room where she smiled the two wounded.

Who knows if they know that it was all about Facebook and her now great friend Abed.