Heart of the Mission - The Katrina

"Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's
grief. Do justly now. Live mercy now. Walk humbly
now. You are not obliged to complete the work.
But neither are you free to abandon it."

~ from the Talmud


I remember Katrina. The month of September, 2005.
The ocean of people in the Houston Reliant Arena, the Dome
and the Convention Center. How I ended up there is still a blur.
I was on my second day of vacation in Oregon. The phone call
from Houston about needing help within 24-48 hours was compelling.
I could not turn a blind eye especially after I saw what was
happening to the New Orleans evacuees on the news. But what a
fateful gift to have met so many people whose hearts were bigger
than the homes they lost and the suffering they went through.
To work alongside those whose kindness and compassion will
never be forgotten. Disasters can bring out the worst and the best
in us. The circumstances were the worst. Most of the people were
the best.

I remember a sick, listless, little African- American
baby boy in the arms of his doting grandmother outside the Dome.
The boy's mother had died during the hurricane in New Orleans.
The grandmother was weary and overwhelmed. What else can she do
but do what she can to nurture the baby. She is all he has. But
in her fatigue, she did not realize that the baby was dehydrated
and more ill than she could imagine. He was also feverish and
had diarrhea. Bless his heart. And hers. I requested for her to
please take the baby to the Dome immediately to be checked by
the pediatricians. She did. And she responded quickly after I
told her I was a physician. Another doctor and I were monitoring
some of the evacuees just outside the Dome. They were traumnatized
at the New Orleans Dome and were hesitant to go into the Houston
Dome. We followed up with them shortly. The baby was evaluated and
had to be quarantined.

I remember the look on the grandmother's face while
a volunteer nurse was rocking the baby behind the make-shift
quarantine area. Though the grandmother appeared understandably
concerned and exhausted, she was able to force a smile when
she saw the other doctor and me. Something about her eyes and
the worried yet thankful look on her face got to the heart of me.
She represents many mothers, grandmothers and people who give the
best love they can in the worst of circumstances. She epitomized
those who still give of themselves when it seems they can not give
anymore.

I remember the baby. He resembled many of the sick babies
in Africa who desperately need care. I know this baby got the best
care in the most chaotic situation. He received care from doctors
and nurses who responded and volunteered. From those who did not
look away. Many times, we do truly serve best during worst scenarios.
I don't know if the baby lived. I know that he had a better chance of
being alive after he was seen by specialists. We followed
up with them shortly. In my mind's eye, in my fervent wish, I
visualize him with his eyes wide open, looking robust, healthy and
smiling at his grandmother. I still pray for both of them. They will both
remain in my heart, along with all the evacuees and volunteers who
suffered the effects of the Katrina. I remember their pain. I remember
their fears. I remember their incredible strength of spirit.
May inner peace prevail in their hearts.