Tuesday, Sept 13, 2005

We are in a construction zone here. I am listening to patients over the steady beat of hammers and drills. It was only when the background noise stopped that I realized we had been dealing with it all day. You enter a zone when you are focused on your work. The patient is everything, the clinic your world. That’s why MASH units work in war zones – focus.

The school that we are in is to be opened in three weeks. The clinic will be moved into floored tents, and they are expecting at least three more months of operation. Two physicians and two nurse practitioners are needed on a weekly rotating base to staff the clinic. Local physicians are still not accounted for –medical volunteers have come in and staffed where they can find safe places to work. Two physicians that we know of died in the storm.

For the longer term, volunteers who come to do construction will be housed in the gym. There is now a kitchen under construction, and commercial refrigerators arrived yesterday. This place is a beehive of activity – we now have name badges with where we call home – Nevada, Washington, Connecticut, New York – every state seems to be represented.

We have settled into a routine, and dress has become more casual – shorts with scrub tops are now the standard. Though Dr. Larry from Gordonsville, VA wears a different Virginia College T- shirt each day – something about six kids and college…..and all he got was these T-shirts.

Let me describe what life looks like here: First it is hot. That is a 8 am, then it gets hotter, and when you are Nordic, and of a certain age melting is going on.

I am perched on the top row of the bleachers surveying the scene. Reception is to my right – a very large cooler is filled to the top with ice, root beer, juice, and Anhauser-Busch water (really, it is water). The reception table is parallel to that with forms, clipboards, and pencils. Against the blue-draped back wall – with plenty of ceiling ventilation area- a dozen school desks, with magazines under the seats – after all this is a medical clinic – thank you for the magazines, ladies!)

Two picnic tables serve as triage. Blood pressure cuffs, thermometers, alcohol wipes, gloves, huge bottles of hand sanitizer, etc. are laid out for easy access to the four nurses that can man that station. In the middle of the court is a large square table – half of a Ping-Pong table – ladened down with glasses, apples, cookies, for people to take as they go by. Just to the left of that is the tetanus picnic zone. Large coolers are filled with tetanus vaccine, with the needles, alcohol wipes, and the ubiquitous huge bottle of purell in the middle.

Jim, a retired Xerox exe moves slowly, but constantly across the floor, sweeping, then mopping the once mud caked floor. He is now at the entrance to the beautifully arranged vitamin, and sundries section (eat your heart out, Luke). It has taken on the appearance of a mini-Hill’s Drug store without the greeting cards or cash register. To the left of that but still in the center is Lorelie, massaging weary volunteer’s neck and shoulders. Lorelei lost her house, her office, but not her spirit. She is providing US with comfort as we care for others. No wonder FEMA called us the Country Club of the relief centers today!!

Moving to the far left corner, we now have cubicles – respiratory has nebulizers, peak flow meters, and inhalers ready for the wheezing, tight chests that we constantly hear after people go back into their homes and try and deal with the mold. Mental Health has a large yellow sign (good job on picking the colors for those sheets of poster board, Sue), and they have two cubes set up. They added relaxation tapes yesterday – stuff just keeps coming in. The trauma team has the last cubicle, but frequently spills out into our area as they soak feet before suturing, bandage burns or lacerations and give IV fluids or stabilize simple fractures. We now also have an orthopedic surgeon – when he is not up on the roof or cutting down trees, he consults.

Against the wall from where I am perched are the bathrooms with SHOWERS. The pharmacy takes up the far wall with 8x 12 shelving five feet high and forty feet long. Each section is categorized by type of medication – hypertension, diabetes, etc. In front of that the Docs and NPs each have a table two chairs and our stuff – otoscopes, opthalmascopes, tongue depressors, and large bottles of purell. I have several boxes of Kleenex. So that is the scene we work in daily.

FEMA fellows from Southern California also asked us to look at a Red Cross Shelter up the road. They were concerned about the health status of the resident and how it is being run. Apparently, these young fellows had not realized how things should be working. When they came to visit our site and saw the organization, the cleanliness, and how all the people are treated, alarm bells went off. FEMA has no authority to change things or send in other personnel to the Red Cross. There will be more on the Red Cross in another note. I would ask that you send your donations to the Lutheran Episcopal Mississippi Relief Fund – they have a web site. Or to the church group of your choice in one of the states hit by this hurricane.

We went out last night and found the Red Cross site - grade school stuffed with people on cots, on the floor, in tents outside, everywhere there were people trying to sleep. There were no showers, all the inside water is undrinkable. Bottled water was available, and food was prepared and served in the cafeteria. After a brief conversation with the site director we left to develop a plan for helping the people at the site. One of the nurses casually came after us, she reported that they had been trying to help the people, but Red Cross would not let them give so much as a tetanus shot – that’s what nurses do! They could put band aids on or give out Tylenol only.

This morning very early we went out again to this site. Out team is going to go back tonight to give tetanus shots – why at night? Because the people are out working during the day – they just do not have homes anymore. The school needs to be cleaned and ready to open in three weeks. So the shelter must be closed and there is some sort of plan to bus these people up north. Some one in power needs to know that this is not the way to run this operation. These people have jobs, this is their home, they should not be uprooted 400 miles away to a strange place. They are already trying to rebuild their lives here. STOP THIS MESS NOW - some one of you must get this message to the powers that be to use common sense. The Red Cross does not know what they are doing. (I did not mean to get into editorializing, but I am angry, and these people have suffered enough. Well meaning people are doing serious damage to people who have already lost everything). THINK

God bless you for your support. Joe is already receiving phone calls from people who want to volunteer down here – try the web site of the Lutheran Episcopal relief effort – or your Church web site – be careful who you choose to work with.

I miss home so much.

Susan