Posted on 12/18/2006 10:12:51 PM PST by 60Gunner
Last Thursday night/Friday morning, more than a million people in my region were plunged into darkness by one of the worst windstorms in modern Washington State history. Whole cities were still, dark and lifeless. Other than the drivers around me, not a single person was seen outside. The atmosphere was made all the more strange by the moaning of the wind through the power lines that bowed, dead and useless, from their poles. Huge old-growth trees were ripped from the ground by the thousands, blocking roads, demolishing houses, and killing drivers.
And of course, I had to drive to work that night.
My work does not stop when the weather comes up, no matter how severe. If I don't show up, the poor nurse whom I am to relieve has to stay put at his section and take up the slack, which is a lot to ask of someone who has already spent twelve hours working in a level 3 disaster setting in an ER packed with humanity. So I drove to work, picking my way along detours and around fallen trees, and nearly getting killed myself on four separate occasions by drivers who simply blasted through blacked-out intersections instead of treating them like 4-way stops. Seattle has more than its fair share of weather morons. These were probably the same dilrods who parked their cars in the middle of the road during the winter storm (of which I wrote a couple of weeks back)- but I digress. At any rate, having finished an hour-long drive that must have left my guardian angels shaking their heads in dismay and mumbling to themselves, I pulled into the hospital parking lot.
The hospital was an oasis of light in wasteland of utter darkness. The Interstate stretched out for miles either way, a brilliant white-red artery coursing through the black. I zipped up my parka and trudged to the entrance. Every main floor public-access area was simply packed with people from the local region who were not sick but were just looking for some warmth, light, or hot food. They milled around, sat in the cafeteria, parked themselves in corners as far away from the entrances as possible, and tried- many quite apologetically- to stay out of the way of hospital personnel. We gave people blankets and pillows, hot tea, coffee, cocoa, and as much encouragement as we could.
As difficult and hazardous as the evening had been thus far, I still felt a charge of excitement as I contemplated the potential challenges that I as a nurse would be called upon to meet this night on a professional and personal level. The ER was full of some very sick people, and the horrendous weather and power failures compounded the challenges we had to overcome in order to care for our patients. Now, it was not merely a matter of treating the patients and sending them home. "Home" may be blacked out and freezing, or flooded, or inaccessible due to downed power lines; getting "home" may not be a safe endeavor, either. So we all worked together to find some place to put these people, and the lobbies were filling fast. Other area hospitals faced the same dilemma. But this is part of the reason that many medical professionals choose to specialize in emergency/trauma care. You never know what's going to happen next.
As I walked through the doors into the ER, I immediately noticed the distinctly thick and pungent smell of wood smoke that permeated the place. As if the darkness and freezing cold were not bad enough, a thermal inversion had formed over the region, holding the pollutants close to the ground like a foul blanket. The asthmatics are going to be flooding in tonight, I thought. I clocked in and walked over to the nurse whom I would replace. She visibly relaxed, gave me a hug and said, "Thank God you're here!" She gave me report and I briefly paused to consider what I had just gotten myself into.
My patients I inherited were sick, sick, sick. The least severely-ill was a 30-year-old man with propane burns to his hands who would do alright with some minor debridement, silver sulfiadazine cream and a bulky "softball" dressing. The second worst was an 80-year-old with CHF and pneumonia who was simply waiting for a room upstairs. The worst was a 19-year-old college girl in the middle of a severe asthma attack who was looking minutes away from being intubated because she had been working hard to breathe for hours and was rapidly running out of steam.
The hours ripped by. The girl was intubated, put on a ventilator, stabilized and sent up to the Unit. The older lady was sent upstairs to MedSurg, and the burn victim went back "home" to his nice warm RV. No sooner would I discharge a patient than another would occupy the room. And as I returned from taking yet another very sick patient up to the Unit, I noticed that the briefly-vacant room had been filled by not one but four patients who had carbon monoxide poisoning- a whole family that could easily have died had not the oldest daughter come home and seen what her mother, who lacked a little something in the common sense department, was doing to heat their house. Thankfully, they all were fine and five hours later were discharged. They, too, found a corner in the lobby to park themselves for the night.
The rest of the night, all two hours of it, was occupied by a couple of GDFDs who somehow managed to find one another in a night blacker than Hitler's heart. They shared some booze, and then found enough reason to get mad at each other. One had the bottle broken on his head, and the other had his face smashed into a tree, breaking his nose and blackening his eyes. Keeping them separate was a real joy.
My shift finally over, I drove once again through the wasteland, going ten miles out of the way to avoid downed power lines, roadblocks, and managing once again to dodge the weather morons who blasted through the intersections. On the radio, I heard that one woman had drowned in her basement as rescuers struggled frantically to reach her. They could hear her screams, and finally, they heard no more. They broke through fifteen minutes too late. Those guys will remember this night for a long, long time. Say a prayer for them, will you?
Nursing story ping.
I traveled the same roads that night, also. I have never seen so much dark where light used to be. It was eerie. Our power came back after 26 hours, but some of my friends are still out. On top of all that, is the freezing temps.
I think you and others like you are heroes.
Thanks for the ping, and for doing your job.
BTW...GDFD's?
Yes, heroes.
GDFD = Get Drunk Fall Down.
60
I think that's medical jargon.
Thanks for the definition. My guess was wrong (and unprintable).
They are saying that over 1.5 million people lost power, and somewhat more than half have it back up. WOW.
14 deaths in all; 12 in Washington; a family of 4 died of carbon monoxide poisoning, which is becoming an epidemic at this point.
The family of 4 was less than 2 miles from my house.
Gotta love the nurses. They got me through five childbirths.
Same here. It was SO creepy with literally ALL lights out, even traffic lights (I thought they had backup power to make them fourway flashing red). Luckily my power came on the second day, but it was miserable being in a dead, cold house. There is absoultely nothing to do without power. I tried reading a book by flashlight. My brother still doesn't have power. Some people are looking at a week or more. I fear that many more people will die over the next few days as the temps drop. One thing that was kind of interesting was seeing the sky. I don't think I've ever seen so many stars.
God bless you 60Gunner. Thank you for the post/thread. I was in LA when this happened, but since I once lived in Seattle I had a sense of it all after reading your story-- more so then what I had read in the papers. We have family up there many who were without electric all this time and we had no idea how severe it had all been. Thanks again.
Bless you and best to you. BTT.
Another urgent reason those of us with years of exp. caring for the medically fragile disabled make sure we have back up for suction machines, feeding tube pumps ect.. and every supply and or meds to support our home "care" arena's for 3 months stock.
Might not use neb treatments often but it is worth the cost to keep needed meds on hand.
I noticed the breathing issues tend to come at sunset/sunrise.
Along with the other stresses that can trigger.
The fear of the storm took it's mental impact (prayed for others to keep my mind busy) but knowing we could stay put was the best care my loved one could recieve.
Assessing post event we all learn something new with every storm.
SLeep when ya can even if it is 15 min and know how to reconize mental exhaustion and cope when on/up for 20 hrs straight.
The tv ads up here in the PNW have been playing the 3 day stock reminders a whole lot.
After 27yrs of needing life saving health care many times ya learn to stay 4 steps ahead of the game when possible so not to have to go to a hosipital setting esp. when the best supportive care is 4hrs away. Thank God for life flight.
Home Sweet Home.
I wish home health (rural) would up the support self care education needs of patients when released from critical/surgical care hospitals.
We have been lucky but so many are sent home for example with a new foley cath. g tube and no instructions on how to care for the site or where to get supplies.
God Bless you, Gunner.
You write so beautifully.
Thanks for the ping!
Have you looked into getting published?
Constant abuse,both verbal and physical.Never once had the slightest notion that they didn't care greatly about each and every one of us in there.
Nurses are made of stern stuff and I admire them greatly.
No kidding! I would buy a book and give one to my future daughter in law who is in nursing school studying to be a RN. How about this title:
"The Life And Times Of An Emergency Room Nurse"
The cover picture would be you dressed in your scrubs with a stethoscope around your neck with the sometimes craziness of an ER in the background.
Beautiful, haunting story. I never realized how grueling your work can be.
Unfortunately, neither disease nor injury pays any attention to traffic or weather conditions.
I am thinking about it. I would call it "Good Times." That's the phrase that we use in my ER in a rather dry way when we are dealing with a particularly nasty case. I don't know how it works, but it carries a trainload of wisdom with it. It can mean everything from "count your blessings" to "watch out."
Thank you for all that you do. I agree with the others, you are a hero!
Last year during one of our snow storms I was the only nurse who showed up (on time!) to relieve the 12 hour night shifters....
I was a little scared no one else would show - but they all did eventually - some nurses had to be towed out of some snow drifts - but we all made it that day
That women drowning in her basement is a haunting story - I volunteer with EMS too and I can't imagine the nightmares they have had since they were so close to saving her.
oh well....Happy Holidays and Thanks for sharing...we don't do this for the $$$ - that's for sure!
Please ping me again, I love the war stories!
SunnyUSA, any time you want to swap stories, feel free to ping me. I always enjoy talking shop.
60
Very interesting. Please add me to your ping list!
The story underlines the value and necessity of personal preparedness. Everyone should think through and be prepared to ride out scenarios like this, which can happen in any area of the country.
Personal and community survival preparation is especially important today as nobody knows when or where (or "if") Al Qaeda will attack, perhaps taking out large portions of the electrical grid or even cities. Millions could see themselves temporarily back in the Stone Age without adequate services, food or water supplies, and trying to manage on whatever is available. Disruptions could last weeks or months, depending on what happens. And, imagine if it is in winter, like the ice storm in Quebec a few years ago...
Everybody needs to "game" this scenario and take appropriate precautions to protect themselves and their family (and even neighbors). IMHO, a minimum of one month off line should be prepared for (better, 3-6 months). This can be done fairly cheaply if you organize and plan ahead. But as this story points out, few have and fewer do. Most assume services will always be there and up and running when they demand or need them.
In fact, they are betting their lives they will. That's a very bad bet to make!
Done!
bttt
My sister and brother in law live outside of Seattle. They both grew up in snow states, and said it was amazing how little planning most people did for weather events.
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