Local RN Finds Vast Devastation in Haiti
When Steve Lombardi, a member of the San Francisco Bay Area Disaster Medical Assistance Team (DMAT), watched the news unfold of the disastrous earthquake in Haiti, he assured his fellow RNs in the ICU at Sonoma Valley Hospital that his team would not be going to Haiti because “the DMAT only responds to disasters in the U.S. and its territories.”
Yet, indicative of the unprecedented magnitude of the catastrophe, Lombardi received the automated call for a two-week deployment the next day, the first time his team has responded to an international emergency.
Lombardi, 57, has worked as an RN in the Intensive Care Unit and Emergency Room at Sonoma Valley Hospital for 15 years, and has been a member of the Bay Area’s DMAT CA-6 (being team #6 out of 11 in California) for 2 years. The DMAT is “a team of intermittent federal employees organized under the National Disaster Medical System (NDMS) to provide emergency medical care and to augment local medical capabilities during times of disaster,” according to its Web site, dmatca6.org.
Once on the ground in Haiti, smacked by the heat and humidity, Lombardi found that television coverage did not do justice to the vastness of the devastation. “The rubble of collapsed buildings extended as far as the eye could see,” he said.
Lombardi’s medical facility – a sort of Mobile Army Surgical Hospital (MASH) unit – consisted of a tent erected on the grounds of a golf club in Pétionville, near the helicopter landing zone where supplies were continually flown in. His unit was associated with the 82nd Airborne, working alongside DMATs from New Jersey and Massachusetts.
Medical treatment primarily involved dressing changes and treating infections. Thankfully, there were two births and no fatalities. The type of care practiced was referred to as “treat and street,” where patients were treated, given food and water, and a note telling them when to return for further care. More serious cases were stabilized and evacuated. On their final day in Haiti the team treated its highest number of patients – 640.
Occasionally, strike teams would go out in Humvees and treat people literally on the street. While the strike teams were accompanied by members of the 82nd Airborne for protection, “what they were mainly doing was crowd control,” Lombardi said. “At no time did we feel threatened.”
Despite the inevitable cries of pain, Lombardi found the Haitian people to be very calm and dignified. Children are used to being held, so “they would snuggle right into you – that was relaxing,” he said. Still, it was heart wrenching to witness the stoicism of a three-year-old boy who had lost two fingers hold up his little hand, ready for the painful dressing change that he knew he must endure.
As for accommodations, at night Lombardi and his colleagues would find a spot on the tennis court, unroll a sleeping bag, and cover up with mosquito netting. The millipedes crawling all over the sleeping bags went unnoticed by the second night. There were flush toilets and cold showers available at the American Embassy, but these always had lines. “Sometimes that meant taking your shower at 3 in the morning,” said Lombardi. Wet wipes were put to good use instead.
Lombardi’s workday began at 7 a.m. and continued to sundown, when the Haitians would return to their makeshift shelters. Trying to maintain some sense of normalcy in the midst of chaos, people could be found sweeping and cleaning their immediate surroundings, bathing in a bit of water flowing in the gutters, maintaining their dignity and attempting to carry on. “People who had nothing were very generous with what they had,” said Lombardi. “And they were very appreciative of our help.”
Lombardi made a heartening observation as he witnessed all of the international military support equipment from nations that may have been in conflict with each other, now stripped of their weapons of war and outfitted for humanitarian aid. “If we could have more of that, maybe we’ll be okay.”
