In the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, all was quiet on the western front. Of Florida, that is.
Wait — no, that’s not right. Another storm was on the way, and it was headed straight for where I live, outside of Tampa, Florida. Stupid Milton.
I am a nurse in a free clinic, where 96% of our staff are volunteers. The day before hurricane closures, almost nobody showed up. Can you blame them? A storm was brewing, and we needed to bring in our giant PVC pool chairs. Those things will fly, I’ll tell you what.
It was a stressful day on telephone triage. In between the outgoing calls to assist our limited staff with cancelling patients for the coming days, everyone and their mother was calling in, with everything from scratchy throats to panicked prescription refills. Our pharmacy was, of course, also understaffed.
The whole experience got me thinking: I’ve been a Floridian for more than a decade, and I’ve got a pretty good handle on emergency preparedness. I know what to do at the first whisper that a named storm is headed our way. But there is a difference between preparing as a Floridian, and preparing as a nurse.
