— In a makeshift operating room, exhausted volunteer surgeons amputate
limb after limb without basic oxygen or proper tourniquets — one doctor
commenting that it feels like treating the wounded after Gettysburg.
Outside, Haitians line up for prescription eyeglasses because so many lost theirs during the earthquake.
Despite the piercing cries, clouds of flies, broken
spines, creeping gangrene, burned babies, swollen faces, missing feet
and sour odor of urine, children enjoy moments of innocence: drawing
smiley faces on blown-up surgical gloves.
This clinic set up by the
is filling a small but vital role for more than 300 Haitians severely
injured by last week’s 7.0 earthquake. By Tuesday, doctors plan to open
a larger facility nearby capable of treating more patients — a crucial
endeavor as crushed limbs begin to rot from infection.
“The people here have no place to go,” said UM Dr.
Survivors with similar injuries also are packing into a hospital a few hours away in Jimani, a border town with the
“We’ve seen a lot of carnage,” said
Gaping wounds. Infected gashes. Fractured ribs, hips
and skulls. Crushed arms and legs. Collapsed lungs and internal
hemorrhaging.
To save lives, doctors are resorting to amputations. Their biggest fear: a potential malaria epidemic in
Another problem is that after patients are treated and released, no one comes to pick them up, Sanchez said.
“Those who arrive can’t get a bed because those who have been taken care of can’t leave,” he said.
Back in the UM medical clinic, 12-year-old Mystil
Jean-Wesner cries out and shakes his head as doctors gingerly move his
bed to make way for a man headed to the operating room for an
amputation. The little soccer fan smiles. “It hurts now and then,” he
says, looking down to see the stub, wrapped in blue gauze, where his
right foot used to be.
More than 100 doctors and nurses — primarily from
Jackson/UM but also from around the country and world — are
volunteering at the clinic, which is being spearheaded by Dr. Barth
Green, a UM neurosurgeon who co-founded the worldwide Project Medishare
for
The new facility is being built half a mile away at
the runway’s edge. It will feature two large air-conditioned tents,
donated by retired Miami Heat star
Hundreds more doctors and support staff are
shuttling in on rotations on charter jets usually reserved for
corporate executives leaving
On Monday, doctors in scrubs crammed into a
Jackson’s Dr.
He was among the first UM volunteers into the country after the quake
when he was mobbed by injured people at the end of the runway.
One of his first patients was a woman having a
seizure. Doctors had no intubation tubes. She died. “We know how to
treat the patients,” said Harris, a veteran of Hurricane Katrina. But
without proper supplies, “our hands are tied. It eats away at your
soul.”
The clinic was chaotic during the first few days.
Patients staggered in or were dropped off by loved ones. Some patients,
like the baby girl with cerebral palsy, don’t have family. Neither does
the little boy with the mangled hand — he has given aid workers three
different first names.
Medical charts are written on tattered steno pad sheets pinned to the sheets.
Pinned to the bed of a 4-year-old girl, one sheet reads: “Spine injury. Lay flat. No sitting.”
These injuries are traumatic — mostly limbs crushed
by falling debris, which can develop complications with the release of
toxins that overwhelm the kidneys. To battle this, doctors must hydrate
patients, a challenge when so many have drunk little water and their
veins are so shriveled that attaching an IV is difficult. The wounds
are getting worse, weeping and attracting flies, but antibiotics — at
least for now — are plentiful.
“I have a woman I need you to see, to see if her wound is gangrenous,” Dr.
“They all are,” sighed
Lanoue’s wounded patient, in her 30s, has a spinal
cord injury. She can’t be moved. Doctors peel back a bandage to reveal
a swollen, black, left thigh wound. Not gangrenous yet, Gunter says. It
will have to be monitored.
The makeshift operation room boasts two regular
tables, like ones used for backyard parties. Without proper
sterilization of cutting tools, the risk of infection after surgeries
is greater.
There are no oxygen tanks or blood pressure monitors
for the patients. There are few vials of Ketamine, the preferred
medication for anesthesiologists.
During the surgeries — about 16 so far, with 10 more
scheduled — there are no tourniquets. Instead, surgeons use a man’s
belt to tie off limbs.
“This isn’t a hospital. This is not even a good MASH (
For Gunter, it’s not too early to wonder about the
future. How will the amputees rehabilitate? Who will provide them
crutches or wheelchairs?
He was trapped for six hours in the rubble until an uncle pulled him
free. Concrete pinned him face down on his left side. On Monday, his
left hand was ballooned, his leaking left eye swollen shut.
But that didn’t stop him from smiling.
“I’m strong. I know I’ll be OK,” he said.
Then Chery paused and scanned the room.
“How can I find a way to leave this country? I know the doctors, once they leave, I know I won’t get care like this.”
—
(c) 2010, The Miami Herald.
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