** Disclaimer: grab a drink of choice and buckle up, cause this is a long one***
After a month of travelling and spending time with my closest friends and family in the greater Los Angeles and Orange County areas, it was my time to begin my journey to the Caribbean island of Sint Maarten (Saint Martin). Between days of shuffling all my belongings around my parents’ home and in and out of two oversized suitcases and a single duffel bag I found myself packed and ready to head to LAX (with a dream and a cardigan… see what I did there?) Due to a lack of direct flights that weren’t the cost of a pure-bred puppy I was forced to layover in Atlanta for one night before completing the trek to Sint Maarten. Along with my lifetime of unfortunate travel luck, my flight was delayed and I was only able to get 4 hours of sleep before having to board my final flight down into the islands. Even though I was slightly ragged—which is putting how I looked and felt SO MILDLY—I was giddy to end my expedition to Sint Maarten and to open a brand-new chapter of medical school.
I picked a window seat for the flight so I could capture images of the famous beach over which planes enter the island on the Dutch side; boyyyyy was that a good choice! Albeit slightly terrifying flying over water until we were essentially almost landing on the beach, it was absolutely exhilarating knowing that I was flying into one of the most beautiful airports in the world.
Once I landed in the beautiful island nation of Sint Maarten, I was immediately offloaded onto the tarmac at the airport and to say it was stunning is even an injustice in that it was beyond beautiful. After carrying the duffel which I packed to the brim with things my checked luggage couldn’t handle (aka my laptop stand, a few changes of clothes, and gross anatomy textbooks), I checked myself through customs, got an entry stamp in my passport, and was off to school with the aid of the Orientation Advisors divvied out by the school.
Myself along with other students and their parents were caravanned to the school with the mass amounts of luggage in tow—apparently, I was traveling LIGHT with only 2 large bags and a duffel bag—which was about 5-10 minutes via a road which was intended to be two lanes, but in reality was no wider than a one-way street. The drive took us through the town, past two casinos, restaurants, hotels, apartments, etc. and I was purely in awe that I would be living in this beautiful place to begin my saga through medicine. We arrived at the dorms and were immediately greeted by all the friendly students helping us n00bz (1st semester students) move into the dorm apartments. The apartments were decent sized, had plenty of closet space, and the oh so enviable and luxurious Twin XL bed—for all its worth, I could have had a queen bed in that room and still had space for a small spin class so that bed was a little disappointing.
The first few days in Sint Maarten I spent going to the grocery store, hitting up the beach with other students, exploring the local bar scene, getting my room set up, unpacking, and also avoiding completely unpacking. I am so glad that I was too damn lazy to get myself some hangers because I would have wasted so much money just to be forced to leave them on the island (major foreshadowing here)….
During this whole extravaganza of moving and getting settled into my apartment, there were many warnings of Hurricane Irma, which would eventually demolish the university and surrounding areas. All of my friends and I were discussing if we would leave the island, why we shouldn’t, if we could afford it, etc. in regards to the hurricane which was at that time tracked to graze by us. I, being the California gal that I am, said I wasn’t worried about it and that the buildings looked safe enough (BIG FUCKING LOL to my lack of awareness and absolute disregard for the powerful and vengeful Mother Nature). Irma was ready to show me how naïve I was.
By Monday, Irma had gone from a Category 2 (I think, these details are fuzzy) to a Category 5 storm and was gaining strength by the hour. Within 24 hours, I had moved all of my belongings out of my apartment, into my suitcases, and was sharing a blow up mattress in our largest lecture hall with another student — shout out to Brandon Byers, thanks a bunch for sharing!– in preparation for Irma to make landfall on Sint Maarten. At this point, the school’s executive team was updating us hourly with developments over the storm, potential evacuation, and what we should expect from the storm while staying the in Auditorium. ***Side bar: the Auditorium was the only building on the campus which was built to survive a Category 5 hurricane, hence why we packed almost all of the students, families, and faculty within this building. The building had only minor water damage to one entrance so THANK YOU AUC FOR A SAFE HAVEN*** Once we reached Tuesday evening, the anxiety and panic was palpable within the room as all of us waited patiently for Irma to begin her wrath over our new Caribbean home.
I went to bed about 12 am Wednesday morning that Irma made landfall (September 6, 2017) and woke up at 3:45 am to a FaceTime call. I went out into the hallway and was FaceTiming for about 20 minutes when I began to actually hear the storm and all of its wrath, and I fucking mean WRATH. I made the grave mistake of looking out the glass doors while the storm was raging; trees were horizontal, the rain was SIDEWAYS, and it sounded as if you put your ear up to a blender which was then broadcasted through a loud speaker. The power of the storm was immeasurable at this point. While on FaceTime, I distinctly remember saying, “I wasn’t scared before, but I can’t bring myself to look out the windows again I am just so terrified”. If anyone took my blood pressure during that call, they probably would have had to sedate me to get it within normal rage. The storm had started about an hour before I got up and we still had 5 hours until the eye was supposed to cross over us…. Needless to say, September 6, 2017 may have been one of the longest days of my life. Once I had stopped Facetiming, about 4:10 am, I decided that the only way to get through this was to try and sleep through what I could. I wound up sleeping until about 6:40 am when the auditorium was a loud roar of stirring people, anxious students, and others who were just too upset to sleep any longer. This is about the time that the students discovered we had no internet, and therefore no further communications were transmissible. I found out later that day that during the initial hit of the storm one of the doors of the auditorium had been ripped open by the storm and some of our bravest and most valiant security guards risked their safety to close it for the students; to those men, I am forever grateful for your selflessness. Thank you, times a kabillion fafillion. Once the eye had settled over the school, mild chaos erupted (if you can believe that at all, just a natural disaster but hey… it was only MILD chaos!) A woman who was having issues breathing was brought in for medical attention, students who staying in the dorms ran for their lives for the building’s safety, and other civilians seeking shelter or help were welcomed into the building.
Although the storm had calmed, we knew that we were on borrowed time and it was quickly running out. The eye of the storm lasted about 75 minutes, then the winds and rain began again but now running in the opposite direction. Thankfully this leg of the hurricane lasted about 2 hours and we weren’t forced the endure another 5 hour episode of Mother Nature’s most destructive storm. Once the storm had finished its destruction and mayhem over the area, school officials made the decision to ensure that none of the students, families, or staff were allowed to leave the building until it was deemed safe for use to exit the premises and survey the surrounding areas. They explained to us that they would be selecting individuals to participate on a “Search and Rescue Team”, which would go out into the surrounding buildings, apartment complexes, and any other buildings in search for any students, locals, or other civilians who needed shelter or medical attention and had not already made it back to the campus building.
The wait to go outside was unbearable, yet it felt like opening a Christmas present early when we were finally able to breath in the outside air and enter the shock-and-awe phase of the post-Irma shit storm that had just occurred. When I say shit storm, I fucking mean STORM OF SHIT. EVERYWHERE. As I walked outside the building for the first time since I had furiously packed up my student apartment on Monday (its now Wednesday afternoon around 2 or 3 pm), I was in disbelief of what exactly the storm had managed to destroy. There were palm trees essentially ripped in half, or out of the ground entirely, debris everywhere, every car had windows blown out along with body damage, cars were blown over, blown into each other, railings were ripped off the student apartments, drywall was missing from the roofs of buildings, windows were blown out, and entire levels of apartments were missing. The sheer damage was unfathomable, and all that I just listed isn’t even close to everything that I saw. It was too much to even be upset about; as well, I didn’t have a right to be upset because this wasn’t yet my home, let alone somewhere that I had all of my belongings damaged or obliterated as many of the locals and even school officials did.
In the days following the storm, there were strings of meetings regarding water usage—the phrase “if its yellow let it mellow if its brown flush it down” was uttered more times than I think I have heard ever in my 26 years– evacuation, a school semester, and contacting families and loved ones. Finally on Friday, which I only remember because this is the day I finally showered after the storm hit, we were notified that it was possible that the evacuation was beginning and to be ready at any minute to leave. At about 1 p.m. Friday afternoon, September 8th, I got word that if we wanted to evacuate there were military planes flying in that afternoon and there was a possibility a large number of the students/families could be evacuated. I don’t think I have ever run faster in my life back into a building to get my belongings; we were allotted one backpack and THAT’S IT. Anything we could fit in there plus our passports, that’s all. No suitcases, no extras, nada. So I tore through my three suitcases grabbing some basics that could maybe get me through a few days and sprinted back out into line with my friend Alex and her parents, whom were on the medical team during the storm. Finally I got up to the front, on the edge of tears and exhaustion, gave the student government representative my name and passport number and I was in line to get into one of the cars that was driving back and forth from the airport. I used my friend’s mother’s phone and called my dad; the poor guy was so exasperated due to the sheer number of random phone numbers he was receiving calls from (I only had Wi-Fi on the island due to not wanting to change carriers blah blah blah, BIG MISTAKE). He was ecstatic to hear that we were leaving but upset that I had no details except for, and I quote, “Maybe Puerto Rico Dad, I have no idea”… Dad if you’re reading this, I love you and your patience with me in this every changing and tumultuous time! You’re the best!
As I lined up into a group of 4 with Alex and her parents, we got into a Hyundai which had the back glass punched out by the storm and a severely cracked windshield off down the one lane road toward the airport. We were narrowly avoiding debris at every turn, and often had to pull off to allow other vehicles to pass us in order to head back to the campus. As we approached the airport, we saw how the destruction had affected one of the most beautiful airports in the world along with its surrounding communities. I wish there was another word for devastating that truly captured the amount of damage and air of hopelessness with all the damage. As we pulled up to the airport, we scrambled out of the car, thanked the kind man who siphoned fuel from his boat to fill his car to do this, and essentially jogged up to the Dutch military men whom were guarding the airport entrance. I showed two guards my passport, got the okay to move through, and there I was… on the tarmac at Princess Julianna Airport in Sint Maarten where I had arrived no less than one week prior to start medical school, and was greeted by 100 other students and a military C 130 plane with engines going. In that moment, I thought, I am so fucking thankful for my life and that as a U.S. Citizen I was able to be evacuated from Sint Maarten.
We piled into a military C 130 plane with about 119 students and family members, into a plane that usually holds about 80 people, heading for Puerto Rico. As soon as the gate closed the back of the plane, applause and cheering erupted, because the nightmare that we endured was about to be left behind us, at least physically. Thank you to the New York Rescue Crew that came to Sint Maarten to help evacuate us, you’re all heroes and we will never be able to thank you enough for keeping us safe during our exit from the destruction. #NYRescue
The flight to Puerto Rico was about 40 minutes and we landed without a hitch on the runway and were seamlessly offloaded into customs. At customs, the Red Cross greeted us with food, water, clothes, and basics like tooth paste to get us through the nights we may have been there. I think I ate 3 slices of pizza, a double hamburger, and 18 pounds of French fries in a time span of 20 minutes.. unsure of the details because it 100% possible I blacked out due to happiness and carb overload… but I digress.
We were moved via shuttle to a local Hilton in Puerto Rico about 20 minutes from the airport; however our shuttle driver got us there in about 10 to have us beat the traffic (slightly terrifying but got us ahead of a 150 person line to get into a room so hey I can’t complain). Ultimately we wound up staying in Puerto Rico from Friday night to Monday afternoon as there were scheduled flights with pre planned itineraries of which students would be on which flights. I was on one of the last flights out of Puerto Rico, but again, so damn thankful that Adtelem—the company which owns the school– and the AUC team had evacuate us in the first place and were getting us back to the states and out of reach of any other natural disasters.
From Puerto Rico we were flown to Chicago, via chartered planes. If there was ever a time to kiss American soil, this was it, and I SURE AS HELL PUCKERED UP BECAUSE HALLELUJAH I WAS BACK IN THE STATES! Once I landed, I called my family explained I’d be in Chicago for an undefined amount of time and that I would call them with any updates. After we were off the plane, we were greeted by the American Red Cross, given blankets, food, clothes, another round of basic essentials, and were sent to hotels to get a good nights sleep and another shower. There were a LOT of ripe-ass humans on that flight from Puerto Rico and we all could have used a deep soak… for at least a week or so. Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but like, we survived a Category 5 ++ hurricane so we get to do that right?!
At this point in this “story”, if I can even call it that, I would wholeheartedly like to say a giant thank you to Adtelem and all of the officials of American University of the Caribbean School of Medicine. Without all your hard work, sleepless nights, and tireless efforts, I would not be safe and I would not have felt safe during that storm. You all have saved so many lives and for that we as the student body, are indebted to you—beside the fact that like we all have giant mounds of debt for medical school, but that’s besides the point.
Hurricane Irma, you were truly a bitch of epic proportions, but the one thing that you gave me was a strong sense of self, an understanding of how trauma affects myself and others, knowing I am in the right place with the right family, stronger and closer friendships, and that I am #AUCStrong.
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The Unconventional MD 