"Imagine the aunt’s anguish as she watched her nephew being taken by helicopter to the “big white ship from America.”

—Thomas Pryor

Remembering the tsunami

Story of Hope

by Thomas Pryor

“Harapan” and Thomas Pryor
Harapan and Thomas Pryor

On Dec. 26, 2004, the world witnessed one of the greatest natural disasters in recorded history, an event described to me by a survivor as “a hand that reached out of the ocean, bringing death and chaos to whatever it touched.” To date, the dead or missing stands at more than 225,000 people, with billions of dollars in destruction and despair in its aftermath. No area was ravaged more than the province of Banda Aceh, Indonesia, less than 150 kilometers from the epicenter of the magnitude 9.15 earthquake that triggered the tsunami.

My personal involvement in the relief effort was as a nurse in the U.S. Public Health Service (USPHS), under the direction of U.S. Surgeon General Richard H. Carmona. The mission of the USPHS is “protecting, promoting and advancing the health and safety of the nation.” In this case, however, the mission took on global implications. I was assigned to the hospital ship USNS Mercy as part of an integrated coalition of U.S. Navy, USPHS and Project Hope medical and nurse volunteers. As part of Operation Unified Assistance, we were deployed off the shores of Banda Aceh to offer humanitarian assistance to the Indonesian government and, most of all, to the people of Banda Aceh.

On the second day after our arrival, the ship received word from an Australian medical team onshore of an 11-year-old boy with respiratory failure. Because he was unable to breathe spontaneously, a breathing tube was inserted and he was emergently evacuated to the ship, where he was placed on a mechanical ventilator.

Because of my pediatric experience, my primary nursing role in this mission would be the care of this boy, referred to in my journal as “Harapan,” Indonesian for hope. Suffering from what has been described as “tsunami lung,” a severe infection caused by swallowing muddy, bacteria-laden water, Harapan required aggressive respiratory and ventilator management, blood transfusions, antibiotics and other medical support in the weeks that followed. I worked 12 to 14 hours a day, taking care of Harapan and precepting critical-care nurses who were caring for other pediatric patients.

Speaking to Harapan’s uncle in his native language, I provided reassurance and support. I explained the monitors, alarms, tubes and wires connected to his nephew. As we watched Harapan fight for his life, a bond was forged between us, and he told me the boy’s incredible story of resilience and fortitude.

Two days after the tsunami, Harapan was found floating in the ocean on a piece of debris by local fishermen and was taken to a camp for displaced persons. Weeks later, his uncle found him and told him that his parents, siblings and extended family—40 people—were all killed by the tsunami. Only his uncle, aunt and cousin had survived.

Imagine the aunt’s anguish as she watched her nephew being taken by helicopter to the “big white ship from America.” The Mercy was viewed by Indonesians with suspicion and uncertainty. By caring for those in need, its diverse crew practiced health diplomacy. Building relationships based on compassionate bedside care, the people involved in Operation Unified Assistance overcame political, social, cultural and religious barriers, providing a model of health diplomacy based on humanitarian principles and global health ideals. It is hoped that these ideals will endure and be furthered in a world community often separated by global differences and indifferences.

Miraculously, after four weeks of providing one-on-one nursing care to Harapan, I had the unforgettable experience of escorting him back to Banda Aceh, where he was reunited with his new family. As we embraced and said our goodbyes, Harapan and each member of that family held my hands and said, “Terima kasih, menyetujui cinta dan kelaurga kami,” which means, “Thank you, and accept our love and family.” It is a family that will forever be held close to my heart and remembered as one that found Hope in the midst of despair.

Author Update: It looks like I will be returning to Banda—almost exactly one year later—to assist Project Hope for two weeks as a volunteer in establishing a pulmonary clinic and to train local providers. Also, after a lot of effort I have tracked down "Harapan" and his family and am looking forward to a reunion with them. I have been told he is doing well. RNL

Lt. Cmdr. Thomas Pryor, RN, BSN, is a commissioned officer in the U.S. Public Health Service, assigned to Indian Health Services (IHS). Recently, after helping Hurricane Katrina victims in Baton Rouge, La., he relocated from Scottsdale, Ariz., to Pagosa Springs, Colo., for a new assignment as public health nurse with IHS’s Jicarilla service unit in Dulce, N.M. For more information about his tsunami-relief experiences, visit www.surgeongeneral.gov/journal.

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