Story from NO
Sep. 11th, 2005 12:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyringThis story came to me through a friend. I thought I'd pass it on:
I want to get this all out to everyone (before I forget details) so please excuse my not writing to everyone who wrote to me individually.
Candy and I are back in sweet Mena, Arkansas after a 12 hour drive from New Orleans last night. We are well (apart from odd rashes and scratches (we are off to get checked out today) and even have our Lab/Bassethound, Della. I am feeling a little guilty in that we haven't lost anything!
Anyway, Candy is a nurse in a seniors' residence in the French Quarter (Maison Hospitaliere) and she said on Sunday that she would be going into work as usual. I said that I would go too, as they were bound to need help. Luckily we had my old farm truck ('85 Ford F150)
Got to the Maison, where, surprisingly, all the staff had arrived too. There were 67 residents, and 27 staff including the Administrator. I had a bedside 22 automatic which I had put in my bag 'just in case - you never know etc'.. Of the residents, about half are ambulatory and rational, the remainder a mixture ranging from tube feeders to altzheimers.
Katrina came and went. Some damage to shutters, rooftiles- nothing serious but we kept working to make sure residents were happy and felt secure. Generator came on to emergency lighting and any life support systems. Admin got on phone Tuesday am to arrange transport out. We told residents that busses would be here in 6 hours. I went out to make contact with anyone who could help with the Hospialiere evac. I found that our bit of New Orleans was dry and relatively damage free. Plenty of Police about, all preening for the newsmen who had descended like flies on a corpsee, but none had any authority to help, nor could contact those who could make a decision.
The kitchen worked on gas, and kept supplying three squares per person daily. The deep freeze was also on emergency power. I checked diesel and we had one and a half 55 gals total. Enough for four days.
The Maison occupies nearly an entire block of the quarter and is nearly 150 years old. Was opened for 'the widows of sea captains', but now is unisex and cares for medicare patients too. The only part of the block not owned, is a semi-derelict building which staff called 'the Crack House'. The wall separating them from us was blown down. The deputy head nurse had a .38 and I had the .22 (which was nice). Phone linesworked, although cell phones didn't. Air conditioning didn't work either.
Before the storm, the danger was going to be from the roof, so all patients were brought downstairs. After the storm, we got information that their was going to be 12' of flood water, so (even tho the lifts had ceased) we got everyone upstairs. The critical patients were upstairs anyway. When it became clear that there wasn't to be flooding in the quarter, and that transport was imminent, we moved most people back down again. They sat in their wheelchairs in rows, waiting for evacuation.
On Tuesday afternoon the Administrator found that the busses he had arranged weren't coming. No one knew why. So he began to find some more. This he did (from Shreveport) some seven hours away. We told the residents who were getting uncomfortable and uneasy. Those that had their own rooms, were asked to sleep in them and all to get some rest. Took the Admin to a home in St Charles Ave to rescue his Burmese cat. Waded ther last 4 blocks throughwater up to knee high. I remembered afterwards that these were the only shoes I had. The truck pulled out larger trees, and rode over smaller brush and debris, and only stopped when water reached floorpan.
I acted as a kind of security and song and dance man, my aim was to keep confused and worried residents happy and amused and informed. When I found a stranger tapping out wiring, I told him to leave (at gunpoint) and that if he, or anyone from the crack-house stepped foot on our property again, I would shoot to kill. He got message and we had no trouble from there again.
In front of the Conference centre there were thousands and thousands of homeless people. Some of them were drunk and threw bottles and bricks at my truck. One guy approached and told me to get out and leave my truck. A 22 pointed between his eyes changed his mind. I was lucky he wasn't armed himself.
Everyone was snatching sleep in hour or two segments, sleeping where they could lie. With temps in 100's and humidity at 65%, people started dehydrating fast. Water became critical and we drained water systems for flushing toilets and washing. We had a good supply of drinking water, and one water cooler.
The Shreveport busses disappeared one hour from their destination. This time we found out that FEMA had confiscated them for their own use. Admin (brilliant guy, totally out of his depth in this situatioon, as he would be the first to agree) arranged for a church group, from Dallas to come and get us in 2 busses. These also were stopped and confiscated. Residents started dying. Candy and another nurse went for a walk and saw the undertakers on N Rampart had staff in it. They let us have one body bag. But had left by the time other residents started to die.
It was beginning to look like a Kafka-esque story, in that we could arrange as many busses as we wanted, but couldn't actually have them.
On the Weds night, Director of Nursing, her deputy, the MDS staff nurse and the Dietician/cook left for Houston, taking the 2 guns with them.
Candy was made head nurse and she was *magnificent*. For the first time she arranged a triage and separated on cots, everyone into 'need' groups and detailed CNA's into shifts to look after their own group.
This guy came to the front door. An 'alternative' type and I was very wary. However, I went out to talk to him and found he was most concerned that people got out asap. He disappeared and brought back some box fans, cigarettes for the nurses, drinking water and a chain saw. Then he got to work clearing the road outside for the busses when they came etc. Totally brilliant! Another guy wandered past called Tim - a frenchman, who helped me move beds, residents and also clear up outside. He left to help others when he saw that he had done all he could. But the alternative guy - prison tats, the lot - stayed around fetching and carrying where necessary. His name is Issac Scott and he also had the mongrel on a bit of string.. I brought them both out and as far as I know, he's living rough in Baton Rouge where I dropped him off. I do hope he makkes contact again. The one thing that makes a lot of this worthwhile is that I saw a lot of pills scattered by the front of my truck. I was concerned because I was sure that I had packed the medecines well, when Issac told me he was a recovering Herion addict and those pills were his methadone - he decided that from now on, he'd go cold turkey and had re-discovered the value of life. Inspiring!
Every day, I took the truck through debris and floods to find help. I met police, SWAT, Nat'l Guard and no-one could contact any kind of authority to get help.
By Thursday, the only help I had found was from the BBC who came and filmed our plight on Wednesday. He left a number to call if there were any changes in our situation. All the staff were now resigned to have to stay until either we were rescued or all the residents died. Some of these staff had lost their homes and families, yet they kept on doing what they did. I felt humble. These CNA's were on minimum wage $6.00/hr and their devoltion to the residents was amazing.
Andrew came bursting in to the games room on Thursday night to say that there would bne busses first thing Friday. There was no reaction. We had heard it all before.
I told Andrew that if no busses had arrived by 12 noon Friday, I would start lifting people onto wicker chairs in the back of the truck and ferry them out.
Morning on Friday, no busses.
11o'clock busses came in sight on Dauphine street with a police escort. A young policeman with a carbine arrived pointing it at me. As I was now wearinga scrub top, I lost it and screamed asking was he going to shoot me? and that if he didn't put it up I'd shove it up his arse. I had also called BBC to tell them we were evec'ing. They arrived to film it all. They were so nice and caring. We had to slide the upstairs residents down the stairwell un mattresses as we had little ot no strength left. This was veto'd by a FEMA official(?) who collected 2 window shutter blown off and said that we would carry them down on those. We ended up doing it our way. I asked who was going to do this carrying. None of us had any strength left. I then arranged for the shiny policemen to put down their guns, get out of their A/C cars and come and lift people, which they did.
My truck was loaded with med supplies, till it couldn't hold any more.
We left some time early Friday afternoon and drove 7 hours to Houston..
There were relief nurses and volunteers at the Holiday Inn when we arrived. However, our staffs' knowledge of the patients and the routines, made our staff indispensible, so the 14-20 hour days remained in operation. Except for me. I had no proper function other than to roam the floors and rooms our people were on and keep them informed, read to them and smiling a lot.
Andrew arranged for our residents to go to local-ish Nursing homes over three days. Thursday would see them all gone.
Then found the medical records were back at the Maison. Everyone refused to go back. And I know I shouldn't have, but I did, taking Candy and the dog with me, leaving Houston at 2am Thursday. Had a tire blow-out at Beaumont and waited at a tire store till they opened at 7.30. They replaced tires (2) at no charge, and we were off again. Brakes boiled in Jefferson parish, all the grease melted out of the o/s bearing, but pressed on to where we live as there was a curfew in operation and we had missed our escort. Slept in our house some of Thursday night. I was so close and putrid smelling, that I went and slept in the bed of the truck. The Minx was safe and I put it in a neighbours garage with the keys still in it. Mosquito bites all night. Tried to leave at 2 am, turned back by police. Finally got back to Maison at 5.30. Got the records, marked the room with the bodies, as well as the front door, and on our way out, made contact with a kind of authority to tell them where the bodies were.
Drove all day and we are now back in lovely, quiet, safe, hospitable, redneck Mena!
Alan
I want to get this all out to everyone (before I forget details) so please excuse my not writing to everyone who wrote to me individually.
Candy and I are back in sweet Mena, Arkansas after a 12 hour drive from New Orleans last night. We are well (apart from odd rashes and scratches (we are off to get checked out today) and even have our Lab/Bassethound, Della. I am feeling a little guilty in that we haven't lost anything!
Anyway, Candy is a nurse in a seniors' residence in the French Quarter (Maison Hospitaliere) and she said on Sunday that she would be going into work as usual. I said that I would go too, as they were bound to need help. Luckily we had my old farm truck ('85 Ford F150)
Got to the Maison, where, surprisingly, all the staff had arrived too. There were 67 residents, and 27 staff including the Administrator. I had a bedside 22 automatic which I had put in my bag 'just in case - you never know etc'.. Of the residents, about half are ambulatory and rational, the remainder a mixture ranging from tube feeders to altzheimers.
Katrina came and went. Some damage to shutters, rooftiles- nothing serious but we kept working to make sure residents were happy and felt secure. Generator came on to emergency lighting and any life support systems. Admin got on phone Tuesday am to arrange transport out. We told residents that busses would be here in 6 hours. I went out to make contact with anyone who could help with the Hospialiere evac. I found that our bit of New Orleans was dry and relatively damage free. Plenty of Police about, all preening for the newsmen who had descended like flies on a corpsee, but none had any authority to help, nor could contact those who could make a decision.
The kitchen worked on gas, and kept supplying three squares per person daily. The deep freeze was also on emergency power. I checked diesel and we had one and a half 55 gals total. Enough for four days.
The Maison occupies nearly an entire block of the quarter and is nearly 150 years old. Was opened for 'the widows of sea captains', but now is unisex and cares for medicare patients too. The only part of the block not owned, is a semi-derelict building which staff called 'the Crack House'. The wall separating them from us was blown down. The deputy head nurse had a .38 and I had the .22 (which was nice). Phone linesworked, although cell phones didn't. Air conditioning didn't work either.
Before the storm, the danger was going to be from the roof, so all patients were brought downstairs. After the storm, we got information that their was going to be 12' of flood water, so (even tho the lifts had ceased) we got everyone upstairs. The critical patients were upstairs anyway. When it became clear that there wasn't to be flooding in the quarter, and that transport was imminent, we moved most people back down again. They sat in their wheelchairs in rows, waiting for evacuation.
On Tuesday afternoon the Administrator found that the busses he had arranged weren't coming. No one knew why. So he began to find some more. This he did (from Shreveport) some seven hours away. We told the residents who were getting uncomfortable and uneasy. Those that had their own rooms, were asked to sleep in them and all to get some rest. Took the Admin to a home in St Charles Ave to rescue his Burmese cat. Waded ther last 4 blocks throughwater up to knee high. I remembered afterwards that these were the only shoes I had. The truck pulled out larger trees, and rode over smaller brush and debris, and only stopped when water reached floorpan.
I acted as a kind of security and song and dance man, my aim was to keep confused and worried residents happy and amused and informed. When I found a stranger tapping out wiring, I told him to leave (at gunpoint) and that if he, or anyone from the crack-house stepped foot on our property again, I would shoot to kill. He got message and we had no trouble from there again.
In front of the Conference centre there were thousands and thousands of homeless people. Some of them were drunk and threw bottles and bricks at my truck. One guy approached and told me to get out and leave my truck. A 22 pointed between his eyes changed his mind. I was lucky he wasn't armed himself.
Everyone was snatching sleep in hour or two segments, sleeping where they could lie. With temps in 100's and humidity at 65%, people started dehydrating fast. Water became critical and we drained water systems for flushing toilets and washing. We had a good supply of drinking water, and one water cooler.
The Shreveport busses disappeared one hour from their destination. This time we found out that FEMA had confiscated them for their own use. Admin (brilliant guy, totally out of his depth in this situatioon, as he would be the first to agree) arranged for a church group, from Dallas to come and get us in 2 busses. These also were stopped and confiscated. Residents started dying. Candy and another nurse went for a walk and saw the undertakers on N Rampart had staff in it. They let us have one body bag. But had left by the time other residents started to die.
It was beginning to look like a Kafka-esque story, in that we could arrange as many busses as we wanted, but couldn't actually have them.
On the Weds night, Director of Nursing, her deputy, the MDS staff nurse and the Dietician/cook left for Houston, taking the 2 guns with them.
Candy was made head nurse and she was *magnificent*. For the first time she arranged a triage and separated on cots, everyone into 'need' groups and detailed CNA's into shifts to look after their own group.
This guy came to the front door. An 'alternative' type and I was very wary. However, I went out to talk to him and found he was most concerned that people got out asap. He disappeared and brought back some box fans, cigarettes for the nurses, drinking water and a chain saw. Then he got to work clearing the road outside for the busses when they came etc. Totally brilliant! Another guy wandered past called Tim - a frenchman, who helped me move beds, residents and also clear up outside. He left to help others when he saw that he had done all he could. But the alternative guy - prison tats, the lot - stayed around fetching and carrying where necessary. His name is Issac Scott and he also had the mongrel on a bit of string.. I brought them both out and as far as I know, he's living rough in Baton Rouge where I dropped him off. I do hope he makkes contact again. The one thing that makes a lot of this worthwhile is that I saw a lot of pills scattered by the front of my truck. I was concerned because I was sure that I had packed the medecines well, when Issac told me he was a recovering Herion addict and those pills were his methadone - he decided that from now on, he'd go cold turkey and had re-discovered the value of life. Inspiring!
Every day, I took the truck through debris and floods to find help. I met police, SWAT, Nat'l Guard and no-one could contact any kind of authority to get help.
By Thursday, the only help I had found was from the BBC who came and filmed our plight on Wednesday. He left a number to call if there were any changes in our situation. All the staff were now resigned to have to stay until either we were rescued or all the residents died. Some of these staff had lost their homes and families, yet they kept on doing what they did. I felt humble. These CNA's were on minimum wage $6.00/hr and their devoltion to the residents was amazing.
Andrew came bursting in to the games room on Thursday night to say that there would bne busses first thing Friday. There was no reaction. We had heard it all before.
I told Andrew that if no busses had arrived by 12 noon Friday, I would start lifting people onto wicker chairs in the back of the truck and ferry them out.
Morning on Friday, no busses.
11o'clock busses came in sight on Dauphine street with a police escort. A young policeman with a carbine arrived pointing it at me. As I was now wearinga scrub top, I lost it and screamed asking was he going to shoot me? and that if he didn't put it up I'd shove it up his arse. I had also called BBC to tell them we were evec'ing. They arrived to film it all. They were so nice and caring. We had to slide the upstairs residents down the stairwell un mattresses as we had little ot no strength left. This was veto'd by a FEMA official(?) who collected 2 window shutter blown off and said that we would carry them down on those. We ended up doing it our way. I asked who was going to do this carrying. None of us had any strength left. I then arranged for the shiny policemen to put down their guns, get out of their A/C cars and come and lift people, which they did.
My truck was loaded with med supplies, till it couldn't hold any more.
We left some time early Friday afternoon and drove 7 hours to Houston..
There were relief nurses and volunteers at the Holiday Inn when we arrived. However, our staffs' knowledge of the patients and the routines, made our staff indispensible, so the 14-20 hour days remained in operation. Except for me. I had no proper function other than to roam the floors and rooms our people were on and keep them informed, read to them and smiling a lot.
Andrew arranged for our residents to go to local-ish Nursing homes over three days. Thursday would see them all gone.
Then found the medical records were back at the Maison. Everyone refused to go back. And I know I shouldn't have, but I did, taking Candy and the dog with me, leaving Houston at 2am Thursday. Had a tire blow-out at Beaumont and waited at a tire store till they opened at 7.30. They replaced tires (2) at no charge, and we were off again. Brakes boiled in Jefferson parish, all the grease melted out of the o/s bearing, but pressed on to where we live as there was a curfew in operation and we had missed our escort. Slept in our house some of Thursday night. I was so close and putrid smelling, that I went and slept in the bed of the truck. The Minx was safe and I put it in a neighbours garage with the keys still in it. Mosquito bites all night. Tried to leave at 2 am, turned back by police. Finally got back to Maison at 5.30. Got the records, marked the room with the bodies, as well as the front door, and on our way out, made contact with a kind of authority to tell them where the bodies were.
Drove all day and we are now back in lovely, quiet, safe, hospitable, redneck Mena!
Alan
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Date: 2005-09-11 04:13 am (UTC)