iris lilies
9-6-15, 6:12pm
My brother wrote this about his experience on an emergency medical team response to Hurrican Katrina. My brother and his wife, both in the medical profession, went to NOLA ten years ago. He's 50 years old and has been working off and on in emergency and fire response for 30 some years, in addition to his regular hospital job in respiratory therapy. His wife is an emergency room nurse and also works for the medical examiner's office part time. She examines dead bodies and certifies their deaths.
Once when I visited them we were riding in the car, and within a few minutes about 5 phones and pagers, between the two of them, went off. They both like a lot of action.:D
I found his piece below interesting.
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On Hurricane Katrina !!!non-political!!!
After posting political hurricane snark yesterday (and several months ago involving one Brian Williams) I’m going to put down a few thoughts uncharacteristically devoid of politsnark, regarding what Lisa and I did 10 years ago (in the hopes of making up for being totally un-PC yesterday).
Feel free to read or scroll on. smile emoticon
We were part of a medical team that responded during the first days of the hurricane. Both of us were members of our respective hospital’s Disaster Medical Assistance Teams created for short term, intrastate disaster responses. Iowa DPH needed to put together a >40 person team for a two-week “mutual aid” deployment to New Orleans.
That was back when I still liked such things as fires, adrenaline, EMS, and running blindly into the middle of someone else’s bad day. And this pretty much described the type of folks who signed up for the team, which became problematic.
We were pretty sure we would be providing emergency and critical care in the austere conditions surrounding New Orleans. In short, we were wrong.
We ended up opening and operating special needs clinics in Baton Rouge. We took care of those who, prior to the disaster, were not eligible for nursing home care but were still unable to completely take care of themselves, especially in the face of a mega-disaster. Institutionalized/nursing home patients are taken care of by the system - ideally, anyway. Relatives from outside the area with money and resources take care of many others. The rest become instantly homeless with no money and no medical resources - no home care staff in a van coming by for assessments, O2 refills, and disposable equipment replacement. No way to get the medications you depend on.
In two weeks time I administered three nebbies and one IV medication...and a bunch of oxygen to supplemental O2-dependent people.
What we did do was spend several days procuring a brand new red scooter for a woman who lost hers in the storm surge (I’d like to post the photo of her sitting on it sporting a huge smile but social media etiquette and HIPPA won’t let me) . We spent quality time with individuals. We took the place of yet-to-be located friends and relatives. We continued to provide the low level of health care they needed. We brought them food and assisted with baths and showers. We spent hours on the phone trying to locate relatives, prescriptions, and home healthcare equipment. I spent an entire evening talking fishing with a cajun guy who’s house was now underneath the bayou, his wife interpreting throughout.
Stress levels were ridiculous during the first several days because we kept waiting for those critical patients that never materialized. At arrival we set up a fully functioning hospital in an abandon K-mart store. It pretty much became a special needs clinic and closed in three days. No high acuity patients seen in 14 days. At least none that I remember.
At deployment end, there was little disappointment. A bunch of EMS/medical hot dogs didn’t cheat death and save lives. We just befriended over 250 people and made a small corner of the disaster a little bit better for a forgotten population. And somewhere along the way we probably made things a little better for ourselves. At least Lisa and I can say that.
Practically speaking, our local team was now experienced and prepared for the special needs clinic model we would subsequently employ three years later during the Cedar Rapids flood. Same underserved population. Nationally, a lot of thought started going into how to prepare far in advance for these folks: home medical supplies and devices, lost prescriptions, service animals/pets, and even how to identify who they are and where they live prior to any disaster. I’m pretty certain the Feds and a lot of state and local jurisdictions across the country are a lot more ready to take care of this population then they were 10 years ago.
Personally, the divergence between expectation and reality fostered a humbling experience. 10 years later and I wouldn’t trade it for the total disaster movie (or Sharknado at least) scenario I was amped up for. It was the little things like the lady in the red scooter. And seeing family after family get reunited. And having a Des Moines ambulance crew on loan to the disaster bring in our first patient at K-mart. And Lisa giving the Bible she brought along to a patient that had lost hers. Oh, and the food. The people of Zacchary and Baton Rouge were gracious hosts and kept me well fed with local cuisine. Sadly I came back fatter than when I left. I' not going to speak for Lisa on that last point.
OK, now back to stupid memes, pictures of my cat, and political hackery. Happy Sunday!
Once when I visited them we were riding in the car, and within a few minutes about 5 phones and pagers, between the two of them, went off. They both like a lot of action.:D
I found his piece below interesting.
-------------------------------------------------
On Hurricane Katrina !!!non-political!!!
After posting political hurricane snark yesterday (and several months ago involving one Brian Williams) I’m going to put down a few thoughts uncharacteristically devoid of politsnark, regarding what Lisa and I did 10 years ago (in the hopes of making up for being totally un-PC yesterday).
Feel free to read or scroll on. smile emoticon
We were part of a medical team that responded during the first days of the hurricane. Both of us were members of our respective hospital’s Disaster Medical Assistance Teams created for short term, intrastate disaster responses. Iowa DPH needed to put together a >40 person team for a two-week “mutual aid” deployment to New Orleans.
That was back when I still liked such things as fires, adrenaline, EMS, and running blindly into the middle of someone else’s bad day. And this pretty much described the type of folks who signed up for the team, which became problematic.
We were pretty sure we would be providing emergency and critical care in the austere conditions surrounding New Orleans. In short, we were wrong.
We ended up opening and operating special needs clinics in Baton Rouge. We took care of those who, prior to the disaster, were not eligible for nursing home care but were still unable to completely take care of themselves, especially in the face of a mega-disaster. Institutionalized/nursing home patients are taken care of by the system - ideally, anyway. Relatives from outside the area with money and resources take care of many others. The rest become instantly homeless with no money and no medical resources - no home care staff in a van coming by for assessments, O2 refills, and disposable equipment replacement. No way to get the medications you depend on.
In two weeks time I administered three nebbies and one IV medication...and a bunch of oxygen to supplemental O2-dependent people.
What we did do was spend several days procuring a brand new red scooter for a woman who lost hers in the storm surge (I’d like to post the photo of her sitting on it sporting a huge smile but social media etiquette and HIPPA won’t let me) . We spent quality time with individuals. We took the place of yet-to-be located friends and relatives. We continued to provide the low level of health care they needed. We brought them food and assisted with baths and showers. We spent hours on the phone trying to locate relatives, prescriptions, and home healthcare equipment. I spent an entire evening talking fishing with a cajun guy who’s house was now underneath the bayou, his wife interpreting throughout.
Stress levels were ridiculous during the first several days because we kept waiting for those critical patients that never materialized. At arrival we set up a fully functioning hospital in an abandon K-mart store. It pretty much became a special needs clinic and closed in three days. No high acuity patients seen in 14 days. At least none that I remember.
At deployment end, there was little disappointment. A bunch of EMS/medical hot dogs didn’t cheat death and save lives. We just befriended over 250 people and made a small corner of the disaster a little bit better for a forgotten population. And somewhere along the way we probably made things a little better for ourselves. At least Lisa and I can say that.
Practically speaking, our local team was now experienced and prepared for the special needs clinic model we would subsequently employ three years later during the Cedar Rapids flood. Same underserved population. Nationally, a lot of thought started going into how to prepare far in advance for these folks: home medical supplies and devices, lost prescriptions, service animals/pets, and even how to identify who they are and where they live prior to any disaster. I’m pretty certain the Feds and a lot of state and local jurisdictions across the country are a lot more ready to take care of this population then they were 10 years ago.
Personally, the divergence between expectation and reality fostered a humbling experience. 10 years later and I wouldn’t trade it for the total disaster movie (or Sharknado at least) scenario I was amped up for. It was the little things like the lady in the red scooter. And seeing family after family get reunited. And having a Des Moines ambulance crew on loan to the disaster bring in our first patient at K-mart. And Lisa giving the Bible she brought along to a patient that had lost hers. Oh, and the food. The people of Zacchary and Baton Rouge were gracious hosts and kept me well fed with local cuisine. Sadly I came back fatter than when I left. I' not going to speak for Lisa on that last point.
OK, now back to stupid memes, pictures of my cat, and political hackery. Happy Sunday!