Mission of Mercy : Rescue: A 16-year-old from Soviet Armenia is recovering from delicate brain surgery in Anaheim, thanks to several caring individuals and organizations.

ANAHEIM —  Two weeks after delicate brain surgery, Artiom Saribekian, 16, is out of his wheelchair, walking slowly down a hallway at Kaiser Permanente Medical Center.

To be sure, the gangling youth from Soviet Armenia has help: A Kaiser therapist is holding the youth’s left arm while the boy grips a four-wheeled walker with his right hand.

Nevertheless, when Artiom finally reaches the elevator and is placed back into the wheelchair, he grins like someone who just crossed the finish line.

Asked how he feels, he first looks to his father, Zadour, then to his Armenian-American benefactor, Harout (Harry) Aslanian. Then, using some of the English he has picked up since coming to America, he replies: “Feel OK. Thank you very much.”

Artiom Saribekian suffered from hydrocephalus, a condition in which normal brain fluid drainage is blocked, causing it to accumulate in the cranium.

Some of his symptoms, including failing coordination and horrendous headaches, began four years ago. His family took him to medical institutes in Leninakan, their home city in Soviet Armenia, then in Moscow, but the treatments didn’t seem to help.

Then the family became swept up in the disaster that struck northern Armenia on Dec. 7, 1988: the earthquake that left more than 25,000 killed--including three of the Saribekians’ closest relatives--and most of the region in ruins.

When Aslanian journeyed to Leninakan last September, he found the region still widely devastated and thousands of people--including the Saribekian family--living in small, makeshift dwellings. They were still suffering from enormous food and fuel shortages, the result, Aslanian says, of rail lines being cut by armed raiders from Azerbaijan, the neighboring Soviet state.

The 67-year-old Aslanian, a Glendale building contractor, was part of a three-member Armenian-American team sent by the Armenian Assembly of America to supervise construction of four new factories in Leninakan.

When Artiom’s uncle, who was working on one of the new factories, introduced Aslanian to the stricken youth, Aslanian was especially moved.

“My heart went out to the boy. I understood what he was going through. I understood what his family was feeling,” says Aslanian, whose 41-year-old daughter, Seta Khatjadourian, was suffering from a virus-caused inflammation of the brain that eventually killed her.

“It was so sad to see Artiom. He had all those terrible headaches. He could hardly stand. His left side was especially weak--his left hand useless. He had no control over eye movement. He ate very little, because he could barely swallow.

“I believed the best chance,” Aslanian recalls, “was for him to be treated in America, but as soon as possible.”

Officials at Kaiser Permanente’s Anaheim hospital, where Aslanian’s daughter was a patient, agreed to donate their services. Then Medical Outreach for Armenians Inc., another national Armenian-American group, said it would pave the way for obtaining a two-month medical visa for Artiom and his father.

While the 7-year-old Outreach has already handled nearly 150 medical cases from Soviet Armenia, including scores of earthquake-injured children, Artiom’s case is the first involving hydrocephalus, says Arthur Halvajian, the group’s New Jersey-based regional director.

In the meantime, doctors in Leninakan had implanted a shunt, which provided some relief, but they could not determine the cause of blockage. Although the headaches subsided, Artiom’s coordination remained afflicted, Aslanian says.

“His condition was still extremely serious,” he says. “We still feared that he might fall into a coma at any time--and never wake up.”

In the tests at Kaiser, shortly after the Saribekians arrived April 2, neurosurgeon William So determined the cause of blockage: A tumor in the brain’s pineal area and a cyst in the upper spine section.

On April 23, So operated on Artiom to drain the spinal-area cyst, followed three days later by surgery to implant a longer shunt, running from the brain cavity to the abdomen, to further improve fluid drainage.

No additional surgery is planned. Artiom’s family has decided not to go ahead with an operation to remove the tumor--which, Kaiser hospital tests have indicated, may be benign.

“He is managing quite well,” says So of the young Armenian, whose mobility and coordination have improved markedly and who now exercises daily in the downstairs therapy room. “He has a great deal of motivation.”

Although Artiom is expected to be released this week from Kaiser, it is not decided whether he will remain in the United States on an extended medical visa or return directly to Soviet Armenia, Aslanian says.

Either way, to help assure that Artiom receives proper therapy, the Armenian Relief Society’s Glendale and Santa Ana offices are setting up a fund to underwrite any future equipment and other therapy needs for Artiom.

The object of all this international attention is seated in his hospital room, sipping milk and watching a “Hawaii Five-O” rerun on the overhead television. He has just come back from his latest round of leg raises, stationary-bike pedaling and parallel-bar walks.

He will miss American television, he tells Aslanian in Armenian, because of the far more channels, the greater variety of shows and, above all, his favorite sports program of the past few weeks.

“Lakers,” he says in enthusiastic English. Until he was stricken, Artiom played basketball, as well as soccer and tennis.

If there is time after his release from Kaiser, he hopes to make his first visit to Disneyland.

Otherwise, Artiom is plainly eager to return to Armenia.

“My son and my whole family are very grateful for what the American community and doctors have done for us,” says Zadour Saribekian, 39, who is a factory mechanical worker in Leninakan.

“Please understand that. But,” he adds, looking gently at Artiom, “my son--he misses his mother and brother. He misses Armenia. He is very homesick.”