Dr. Jean Lieu - Jan 6,2005 Nagapattinam
January 6, 2005 Nagapattinam, 4:30AM
The first procedure I performed in Nagapattinam was on myself. As I examined my feet the next morning, I discovered two angry blisters on each foot. I lanced them and dressed them appropriately with moleskin. It hurt more than it looked. Didn't seem that painful when I was doing it on a patient. Doctors make the worst patients.
Last night, I shared the bed with two Brits, Trish and Brian. My guardian angel must have laughed at the sight. Trish was in the middle, and Brian and I were on the sides. If I had tossed and turned, I would have landed on the floor with a thud. I was so exhausted, I really didn't care. In the middle of the night, I heard Trish and Brian clamoring out of the bed. Apparently, the mosquitoes had a feast on their arms and legs. Fortunately for me, I've always been afraid of the cold, so I was entirely protected by my sheets.
Thoughts of home and family gently lulled me back to sleep. I wondered what my family and friends were thinking. Did they miss me? What would happen if I didn't return? Would they appreciate the person I've become? Would they appreciate me more, faced with the possibility that they could lose me forever? If I lost my life here, it would be because I was doing something worthwhile, something I believed in. Because I wanted to make a difference. Have I made any difference or have I let them down?
January 6, 2005 11:30PM
This morning, we hiked into the temple to visit the patients I had promised to see. As we crossed the bridge where ships and bodies were still entombed, I was squeezed in by a bulldozer making its way out of the village. The bridge was only big enough for the bulldozer and I was caught in the middle of the bridge with no place to turn. There were people tightly packed behind as well as in front of me, blocking any escape I had. I watched as the bulldozer honked and inched its way closer to me when I noticed a pole not too far away at the edge of the bridge. I grabbed the pole and the bulldozer passed within a half inch of my elbow. As I held onto the pole, I fought the weight of my bag pack as it threatened to pull me into the sea below, along with all the overturned boats and rotting bodies. By some miracle of God, I managed to steady my balance and rejoined my team.
After a full day of tending to people with muscle aches and pains resulting from being tossed by the waves, colds and flus, dehydration and such, I visited another coastal community, Kameshwaram. It was 20km from Nagapattinam. When I got there, there was already another medical team in place so I was able to take a tour with one of the fishermen. Although his home was entirely destroyed, he only lost his mother. She had been carrying his four year old child in her arms when she was overtaken by the waves. She died, but the child was washed ashore alive. His village only suffered 35 deaths because of the trees that lined the shores along the village. He showed us slabs of stones that once had been the foundation of someone's home. I stood there and marveled at the beauty of the sea, now calm, and the foamy white waves. Not far inland laid the destruction it had caused a few days before. The sand felt soft, cool and soothing in my hands. I picked up a seashell from the beach and watched the water as it gently lapped the sand. Such perfect beauty. How could something so beautiful be so deadly?
On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by to visit a local church. The volunteers had heard that the church of Ave Maria nearby was a holy place. When the tsunami hit, everything in the area was destroyed but no water entered the church. All who were sheltered by her were safe no matter how high the water rose. As we pulled into the front of the church, I marveled at the magnificent white building, its intricate carving and architecture. We piled inside, knelt down in front of the altar to say a prayer for the victims of the tsunami, then headed back to the hotel, each lost in the silence of our thoughts.
The first procedure I performed in Nagapattinam was on myself. As I examined my feet the next morning, I discovered two angry blisters on each foot. I lanced them and dressed them appropriately with moleskin. It hurt more than it looked. Didn't seem that painful when I was doing it on a patient. Doctors make the worst patients.
Last night, I shared the bed with two Brits, Trish and Brian. My guardian angel must have laughed at the sight. Trish was in the middle, and Brian and I were on the sides. If I had tossed and turned, I would have landed on the floor with a thud. I was so exhausted, I really didn't care. In the middle of the night, I heard Trish and Brian clamoring out of the bed. Apparently, the mosquitoes had a feast on their arms and legs. Fortunately for me, I've always been afraid of the cold, so I was entirely protected by my sheets.
Thoughts of home and family gently lulled me back to sleep. I wondered what my family and friends were thinking. Did they miss me? What would happen if I didn't return? Would they appreciate the person I've become? Would they appreciate me more, faced with the possibility that they could lose me forever? If I lost my life here, it would be because I was doing something worthwhile, something I believed in. Because I wanted to make a difference. Have I made any difference or have I let them down?
January 6, 2005 11:30PM
This morning, we hiked into the temple to visit the patients I had promised to see. As we crossed the bridge where ships and bodies were still entombed, I was squeezed in by a bulldozer making its way out of the village. The bridge was only big enough for the bulldozer and I was caught in the middle of the bridge with no place to turn. There were people tightly packed behind as well as in front of me, blocking any escape I had. I watched as the bulldozer honked and inched its way closer to me when I noticed a pole not too far away at the edge of the bridge. I grabbed the pole and the bulldozer passed within a half inch of my elbow. As I held onto the pole, I fought the weight of my bag pack as it threatened to pull me into the sea below, along with all the overturned boats and rotting bodies. By some miracle of God, I managed to steady my balance and rejoined my team.
After a full day of tending to people with muscle aches and pains resulting from being tossed by the waves, colds and flus, dehydration and such, I visited another coastal community, Kameshwaram. It was 20km from Nagapattinam. When I got there, there was already another medical team in place so I was able to take a tour with one of the fishermen. Although his home was entirely destroyed, he only lost his mother. She had been carrying his four year old child in her arms when she was overtaken by the waves. She died, but the child was washed ashore alive. His village only suffered 35 deaths because of the trees that lined the shores along the village. He showed us slabs of stones that once had been the foundation of someone's home. I stood there and marveled at the beauty of the sea, now calm, and the foamy white waves. Not far inland laid the destruction it had caused a few days before. The sand felt soft, cool and soothing in my hands. I picked up a seashell from the beach and watched the water as it gently lapped the sand. Such perfect beauty. How could something so beautiful be so deadly?
On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by to visit a local church. The volunteers had heard that the church of Ave Maria nearby was a holy place. When the tsunami hit, everything in the area was destroyed but no water entered the church. All who were sheltered by her were safe no matter how high the water rose. As we pulled into the front of the church, I marveled at the magnificent white building, its intricate carving and architecture. We piled inside, knelt down in front of the altar to say a prayer for the victims of the tsunami, then headed back to the hotel, each lost in the silence of our thoughts.
posted by Unknown @ 11:30 PM
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