Matt Jones, TCOM 2006, predoctoral fellow in manipulative medicine, shares his experiences as a disaster relief volunteer.
There are very few programs that allow as much student-directed learning
as I have experienced as a predoctoral fellow in the Department of Osteopathic
Manipulative Medicine.
The most recent case-in-point was provided by the devastation and consequential
medical needs brought by Hurricane Katrina. When the call went out for
medical personnel at all levels to assist in Louisiana, my recent training
in disaster relief meant that I could assist without hesitation.
The government has worked with the Salvation Army and the Southern Baptist Convention of Texas to train volunteers for disaster response according to federal guidelines. Since I have been through both the basic and managerial levels of the Southern Baptist Convention of Texas’ disaster relief training, I have been given a government issued ID to enter disaster areas. This meant that I could pass checkpoints on the road to New Orleans when others were turned back.
First of all, it is important to note the chasm between what I expected to find in Louisiana and the reality. I anticipated serving under physicians trained in disaster relief as they addressed the healthcare challenges of evacuees, as well as the civilians who stayed behind. I pictured something akin to a MASH-style emergency department.
However, by the time I arrived in Louisiana on Sept. 7, there were few survivors left in the worst hit areas, and many evacuees had left Louisiana altogether. I was assigned to oversee the health needs of the hundreds of volunteers who prepared, transported and served thousands of meals daily in New Orleans and the surrounding areas.
The first day my duties included several blood pressure checks, a few
skillfully placed adhesive bandages, and many rumors of death and disease
successfully extinguished. All in all, I was ready to come home. I didn’t
think this work justified my absence from my studies at TCOM.
However, that first evening, I was asked to participate in a Southern
Baptist Convention of Texas /Salvation Army leadership meeting that revealed
the most important reasons for my presence in Louisiana.
Disasters
are inherently dramatic; so are our reactions to them. Our leadership meeting
revealed just how dangerous rumors and exaggeration can be in a disaster.
Though I had come expecting the rush of emergency medicine, I found the
greatest need among the disciplines of public health, preventive medicine
and the simple but solid education that takes place between a primary
care physician and his or her patient.
For instance, the media’s mistaken claim that cholera had overtaken
New Orleans (vibrio vulnifercus did kill three) had the SBC
and Salvation Army taking expensive and time-consuming measures to sterilize
the tires of our trucks as they returned from New Orleans, while the
area for food preparation lacked adequate toilet and hand-washing facilities.
I discovered individuals among our ranks who were volunteering despite
congestive heart failure, out-of-control diabetes, and even one very
recent round of chemotherapy! To make matters worse, we didn’t
even know where to find the nearest hospital.
As a result of the meeting, I instituted some immediate rules for our
facility, and submitted a six-page report, including recommendations,
to the SBC and Salvation Army.
In disaster relief, there are so many essential tasks that need full
attention. The SBC welcomed the opportunity to have someone devoted to
health concerns.
Our leadership meeting uncovered another misconception that would become a theme of my trip. No matter how often I corrected my colleagues in disaster relief, they insisted that I was “Dr. Jones.” Many among the SBC and Salvation Army volunteers in particular were enamored with the novelty of having “their own doctor.” So much so that they insisted that I take a trip, at my earliest convenience, to “assess the medical situation in New Orleans.”
As ridiculous as this sounds, I complied, desperate to work under a
physician’s
authority.
There is very little that I can say about New Orleans that has not already
been said. However, from a medical perspective, the rumors and hyperbole
were all the more grandiose. I even had New Orleans police ask if people
were really dying of Ebola, and I heard reports of 30,000 dead.
It was in New Orleans that I found my most exciting medical opportunities of the trip. As you may have seen, the Sheraton downtown was the staging ground for many of the New Orleans relief efforts. On the first floor of that hotel, the gift shop and café had been transformed into a medical clinic and pharmacy. This quickly became my favorite place to volunteer in my almost daily trips to New Orleans.
On Friday
evening, Sept. 9, as the United States Public Health Service took over the
Sheraton clinic from civilian volunteers, I was approached by Captain Brinkley,
the officer in charge.
A nurse practitioner himself, he was expecting a physician from the USPHS
to take over the operation, but a physician had not shown up. A replacement
would arrive on Monday. Until that time, he observed that I was the most
highly trained individual in the clinic. Would I be willing to run the
clinic for him until Monday?
He met my every objection: the pharmacy has everything you need; no need to panic, the USS Iwo Jima is right down the street if you need to transfer cases to their hospital; the USPHS nurses and civilian emergency medical technicians were all at my disposal (many of them with decades more experience than me!) for support.
So with a “Your country thanks you,” from Brinkley, the “ship” was
mine.
My new post warranted my own room in the Sheraton and a ride to meet
the medical crew aboard the USS Iwo Jima. In this case, even the doctors
called me “doctor.”
Over the next 48 hours, I treated dog bites and volume depletion, which
were eventually sent to the Iwo Jima; sprains and strains; rashes; and
diarrhea, and I oversaw hundreds of vaccinations. In short, I had the
time of my life.
As I look back, I am still struggling with the role I was asked to play and the pedestal so many placed me upon, even as a student. I am wrestling with the realities of a new position in society with profound responsibility and expectations.
I am also realizing that the most enduring work of
my trip will probably prove to be my six pages of simple recommendations
to the SBC and Salvation Army for future disaster preparation. I was
honored to have worked with them. This trip will stay with me for a very
long time.
There are lessons to be learned from so many dimensions, much like the
entire Hurricane Katrina experience. Like many others, I am seeking answers
about my responsibility among the poor, so that they do not get left
behind again. These are lessons and challenges that may never leave me.
This was certainly the opportunity of a lifetime.