As a veteran emergency and intensive care nurse, Marti Smith of Oakdale has cared for plenty of car crash victims and other people with severely broken bones.
During her 10 days of serving on a hospital ship caring for victims of the Haiti earthquake, she wasn't struck by the severity of the injuries, but by the sheer number of Haitian people with severe trauma.
Smith volunteered last month on the USNS Comfort, a Navy hospital ship anchored near the capital city of Port-au-Prince.
She was part of a seven-member team assembled by the California Nurses Association. She has worked as a registered nurse for the former Stanislaus Medical Center, Memorial Medical Center and Doctors Medical Center, where she is now a labor representative for nurses.
Smith only caught a glimpse of the devastation in Haiti, where a 7.0 magnitude quake Jan. 12 caused 280,000 homes and other buildings to crumble, killing more than 220,000 and injuring many more.
But what she did see was disturbing.
After landing in Haiti, her team and 48 other nurses caravanned with a military escort from the airport to the harbor of Port-au-Prince. Through the bus window, she saw damaged buildings, thousands of people crammed into a tent city and families living under tarps along the street. It was a 20-minute boat ride from the port to the ship, where she stayed for the duration of her service.
Smith worked in the ship's emergency department, cleaning wounds and starting intravenous lines for injured people brought by helicopter and boat.
Medical system 'destroyed'
More than a month after the earthquake, teams of neurosurgeons, orthopedists and pediatricians from the USNS Comfort were going ashore to poorly equipped hospitals and clinics to find patients who needed additional treatment.
Many of the injured had broken bones that were not aligned, others had undiagnosed fractures, infected wounds or untreated medical conditions.
"The country's medical infrastructure was destroyed," Smith said. "A lot of people were in outlying hospitals and other facilities that didn't have enough supplies."
The ship's emergency room received 40 to 50 patients on busy days, all of them with serious injuries or illness. The nurses prepped them for surgery or admitted them to the open hospital ward, where patients rested in bunk beds.
Smith worked 12-hour shifts for nine of the 10 days, with one day off, but had no complaints. The ship's military staff was exhausted from working 21 days straight.
The nurses saw incredible cases of healing and forged bonds with Haitian patients that will stay with them for life, Smith said.
One was a Port-au-Prince police officer named Roosevelt. A wall fell on him during the quake, injuring his neck and causing him to lose sensation in his feet.
Co-workers rescued him and brought him to a clinic. Although he was barely able to walk, the clinic workers simply gave him ibuprofen and sent him away, Smith said.
For a week, he had severe leg pain. He went to another clinic, where an X-ray revealed a fracture to the C-5 vertebra in his neck. Such an injury can make it hard to breathe and often renders the patient a quadriplegic.
Taken to the USNS Comfort, Roosevelt underwent surgery to fuse the vertebrae and stabilize his neck. He was determined to recover so he could provide for his 3-year-old daughter and pregnant wife.
After several days of therapy, Roosevelt was discharged and went home.
"It was quite something to see him walk out of the hospital ward and go home," Smith said. "It was nothing short of a miracle."