All in a day's work

Excellent day today. The team was ready to roll at 8 a.m. after getting our work orders from Corky, the Hilltop camp "El Jefe." We were assigned to an area where 40 plus mobile homes bordering a ravine were completely burned to the ground. The fire came down from the ridge above, and when mixed with the 90 mph Santa Ana winds and the drainage pipes that were at one end of the ravine, it made for a turbo like effect, shooting a torrent of fire through the 3 foot diameter pipes a full 150 feet. With a firestorm like that, it makes total sense that 41 homes were lit up and burning to the ground inside of 15 minutes. The homeowners were given the 911 call to leave and within 4 minutes the fire was down the ridge and starting on the first homes. Twisted metal, melted glass, and remnants of people's lives lay on the ground like scattered leaves. It was quite a sight.

Our assignment was to clear the burned debris close to the street so that it could then be hauled off. After seeing all the burned nails, screws, and metal I'm glad I insisted that everyone get their tetanus boosters! The homeowner, Mary Ann, wanted us to save as many of the paver stones as possible...she was going to rebuild her life somewhere, just not in Ramona. A few months prior to the fire she had invited one of her loved ones to come move in with her...she agreed, moved all of her belongings into Mary Ann's house while she awaited her move and then the fire struck. Mary Ann said to me in tears, "I asked her to come live with me to have a better life and now look. What kind of life is this? I'm just so hopeless."

Hopelessness? That was the opening I was looking for. As she went around to each of us to thank us for all of our help, I asked if we could pray for her. She agreed and we prayed for her. Prayer for not only a place to live, but for hope, support, and something better. The something better we know comes from a saving relationship with Jesus. When the final amen was said, she said "The best thing in all of this is finding out that there are people out there who care. Thank you." She walked off slowly, clutching the bust of a china doll covered in soot, softly crying.

After lunch, we went back to the mobile home park to clear off another homesite. While there, one of the crew members stepped over the metal frame of the home and cut the inside of her knee. As a physician, I'm tasked with providing medical care to our team of volunteers. As it turns out, the one who cut her knee was Yvonne, my wife. I washed her bleeding leg off with some cold water, put some neosporin on, bandaged it, and told her to take it easy until we got back to camp. What I didn't tell her was she needed stitches. (She doesn't really like needles so I didn't want to unnecessarily freak her out....what a nice husband, huh?)

Back at camp, I took off her bandage and told her of my plan. Word got around that I was going to suture Yvonne's leg so Tina, Edwina, Christie, Chrissy, and Sheila all eagerly asked Yvonne's permission "to watch." I've been in medicine for nearly 2 decades and have taught medical students, nursing students, resident physicians, and other medical professionals and I have never had a bigger audience for a procedure than I had today. All for a whopping 2 stitches! Oh, I failed to mention that Gary, one of the other Hilltop volunteers, kept me company talking my ear off as well. (Buddy asked if he could learn how to suture...after some thought of about 0.2 milliseconds, I said no, possibly because this was my wife. More likely, I didn't want to incur the beating that Yvonne would inflict on me had I said yes. He pouted, went in to the dining hall, and refused to participate in the growing debacle...I mean minor surgery.)

So back to the procedure. The lighting in the building was bad, so I did what any sensible physician in the field would do...I lay my patient down on the tailgate of my Toyota Tundra and operated on her in the parking lot. Given that our medical supplies are mostly donated, it shouldn't surprise me that my glove size is 7, but the gloves I had were a 9. Who ever said fit was important? I anesthetized her wound with some 1 year old Lidocaine (she'll never know), sutured her with 4-0 Vicryl, slapped a bandage on it and called it good. After taking a bow, I waved to my impressed gallery of 10 viewing members, including my patient Yvonne and yours truly, and rode off into the sunset.

All in a day's work.