11/06/2024 | News release | Distributed by Public on 11/06/2024 14:20
When Hurricane Helene rolled into western North Carolina in late September, Pirate nurses - from the mountains to the coast - dropped what they were doing and rushed to storm-ravaged western North Carolina to do what Pirates do best - provide service to those in need with the critical skills they had learned at East Carolina University.
Dr. Haley Braddock is a Columbia native, who lives in Greenville after recently completing ECU's Doctor of Nursing Practice program. Hurricanes are nothing new for her, but Braddock said the swamps of the coast are meant to absorb heavy tropical rains in ways the mountains of the west can't.
When Hurricane Helene moved into the North Carolina mountains Sept. 26, Braddock was between jobs, having recently graduated. She was set to start in her new position in the vascular surgery service at ECU Health but asked to postpone that first day on the job.
"The mountains are where I was supposed to be," Braddock said.
Ann Marie Hammond, who graduated from ECU's adult gerontology nurse practitioner program in 2013, lives in Black Mountain, and pitching in to help her community in the hours after the storm passed wasn't a question.
"The town of Black Mountain approached the pastor of my church inquiring about use of space. I happened to be at church that day and the idea of a medical clinic took off from there," Hammond said.
Dr. Haley Braddock stands near an Army Chinook helicopter that delivered supplies to a community she spent time in providing emergency medical care. (Contributed photo)
The clinic in Black Mountain quickly branched out to a second, more bare bones clinic in Swannanoa, one of the communities hardest hit by the landslides and rivers swollen by Helene's incredible rainfall.
Braddock said being qualified to care for kids and grandparents alike is important in a disaster recovery scenario because she never knew who would walk into a makeshift clinic in the back of a firehouse or who she'd run into while making rounds in a side-by-side ATV.
"I would go to the Burnsville Field Hospital in the mornings, collect the nurses, collect the medications, prescriptions and go to Pensacola. The first few days you could only get there by side-by-side ATV or helicopter. There were no roads, but the people got to work, and by the second week we had a road you could get across if you had a four-wheel drive vehicle," Braddock said.
Ann Marie Hammond stands next to a table filled with medical supplies in the Black Mountain clinic that was created in the wake of Hurricane Helene. (Contributed photo)
Also, by the second week of recovery efforts, Braddock said some semblance of organization took hold. Exploratory welfare checks for people stranded by washed out roads were turning into somewhat routine house calls, but the severity of what would be a relative inconvenience before the storm turned life threatening.
"I had a wrist fracture come in and he seemed to be going into shock. What is normally a 15-minute ride down the mountain with the road intact turned into a medevac. We were calling in helicopters for just a fracture," Braddock said.
The medical volunteers Hammond worked with established a bike brigade to make home visits and check on shut-ins.
"We saw patients for refills on medications, new illnesses, and laceration repairs, injuries and infections. We also provided some vaccinations. We developed great relationships with our local pharmacies to help ensure that the patients got the medications they needed," Hammond said. "We also had mental health providers present."
For Hammond, some of the most important health care help came from unusual sources, because everyone's goal was to pitch in and care for one another.
"The person who helped me get the clinic off the ground was the athletic trainer from our local high school. She played an integral role in helping triage patients and organizing our bike brigade and logistics with our medical supply deliveries," Hammond said.
Hammond and Braddock both stressed how quickly communication emerged as a critical aspect of the response, especially for health care workers.
"Basic radio communication between fire and EMS was difficult, but then the Starlinks started pouring in. We set up communication hubs for community members and then all the requests for welfare checks came pouring in - 'Can you go check on this family member? No one's heard from them. Can you make contact,'" Braddock said.
One of the cruel ironies of a hurricane ravaging western North Carolina in the fall is the quixotic weather changes that sweep across the mountains. One of the last days of Braddock's mission saw snow - not unheard of for the area's residents but novel for a woman from the coastal end of the state.
Many of those in the mountains have wood stoves, which will help to keep spirits up as the temperatures plunge, especially since Braddock said the landslides and overflown rivers knocked down a staggering number of trees.
"They have enough firewood to last decades," Braddock said.
Braddock said she was already seeing the framework of the challenges that those impacted by Hurricane Helene will have to deal with long term: loss of loved ones and homes; access to medications, especially psychiatric therapies, which can lead to debilitating withdrawals; and dealing with the realities of their new normal.
"I met some people who were pushed through the wall of their home and floated down the river. They were found 6 or 8 hours later, into the next day, and they were all cut up," Braddock said. "They lost everything they had, but were still helping other people."
The most difficult part of Braddock's time was a sense of helplessness that resulted from confronting people who lost literally everything.
Dr. Haley Braddock walks across an improvised bridge in western North Carolina. (Contributed photo)
"One of my first interactions there was trying to get to a place that was very difficult to access because the bridge was gone. A man there said he was leaving the mountain and didn't know if he'd ever come back because his wife was swept away in the landslide. He was telling me the story and sobbing, but thanking me for being there," Braddock said. "When someone says thank you, you're supposed to say you're welcome. But do you say you're welcome? The people there are amazing. It was the most rewarding and fulfilling experience that I've ever had."
Ann Marie Hammond, right, listens to a patient's breath sounds at the temporary Black Mountain clinic. (Contributed photo)
Braddock is still working remotely as an inter-community liaison to facilitate supply procurement and distribution between various mountain communities, and with Operation Helo to provide housing for those displaced by Helene.
Days after returning from her first trip to the mountains to support however she could, Braddock said she is still nursing a sinus infection from the dust kicked up by the constant helicopter traffic that ferried supplies over washed out roads to cut-off communities.
By the third week of the recovery effort, Hammond said a semblance of normality was starting to settle in. The Black Mountain clinic was shutting down as regular clinics were reopening, but the Swannanoa clinic would likely be needed for a while.
Hammond and Braddock both lauded the support from the ECU community and eastern North Carolina, and across the nation, to respond to the storm's devastation, and the strength and determination of the people of western North Carolina.
"I am so grateful to everyone who helped or donated in any way. Even in the midst of all this devastation, I was reminded that there are so many good people in this world, and the old adage of love thy neighbor is alive and well in this little valley," Hammond said.
ECU has pledged enduring support for those affected by Hurricane Helene. Learn more about how you can help by visiting Chancellor Philip Rogers' website.