Trying to catch you up on a month of what we've been doing is an onerous task, but in a nutshell:
We just finished a couple of weeks doing clinics in the Mindanao area of the Philippines. We've seen over 10,000 patients at the sites and have done somewhere between 250-300 surgeries including the story from Chief Cohen that I'll post below. In addition, they've held educational seminars at the local hospitals,civic projects such as building or re-furbishing clinics (Thank you SEABEES) and building projects such as wastewater treatment plants. Can't forget the veterinarians - this time they've sent out vets to treat different animals,everything from dogs and cats to caribao which are a type of water buffalo. All of this is being done by the local departments of health,including the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao, the Armed Forces of the Philippines, the U.S. Navy, Army, Coast Guard, Marines, Australian, Philippines , Japan, Canada armed forces personnel, the U.S.Public Health Service, Operation Smile, and the 3P Foundation a local NGO based out of the U.S. which was founded and is directed by Mr. Andrew DeRossi. He's been in the Philippines for thirty years so is an excellent resource for collaboration in this area. He donated all of the medical equipment at a clinic we refurbished in Samar.
I just wished the planners of this mission would have included some of the Disaster Medical Assistant Teams (DMAT)from the U.S. as they are very well trained and experienced.
Many people will never know the sacrifices these people are making in order to participate in this mission. Missing birthdays, graduations, anniversaries are all very hard not to mention just the stress of living on a ship with a thousand other people from a bunch of different places. Some days can be pretty tough but CPO Cohen puts it very well in the following letter.
Friends and Family;
Let me take a moment of your time to tell you about my day. A few minutes ago a Marine who works for me asked me if we would get any medals or awards for this deployment, such as the Humanitarian Service Medal. I told him that we would not be eligible for the HSM, but some of us might receive something like a Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal or perhaps a Flag Letter of Commendation. Then I told the Sergeant that I had already received something much better than any medal they could give me. I explained how a short time ago I had stopped into the Physical Therapy room for an adjustment since I hurt my neck in a fall yesterday (not serious, getting better thanks for asking.) While I was there I saw a 15-year-old Filipino boy named Romeo. I thought he was younger than that because he is fairly small for his age. I first saw Romeo there yesterday when they wheeled him in on a wheelchair. Romeo was very excited to be in a wheelchair because for the first time in years he was able to move around on his own without having to depend on other people. When Romeo was nine-years-old he was injured in a bomb blast when his village in the Republic of the Philippines was caught up in fighting between rival factions. His legs were so badly burned in the blast that scar tissue prevented him from even straightening his leg. His legs have atrophied so much that they are smaller around than my arms. For the last six years he has been unable to walk, and his father has carried him around. When not carried, he crawls around on his hands. He is totally dependent on family members to take care of him.
As Romeo gets older, he is getting too big for his father to carry around. His father is smaller than I am, and I couldn’t imagine carrying him around all day. When his family heard that our hospital ship, USNS MERCY, was coming to Mindanao they asked if we could help. His case was accepted, and our team of doctors decided to cut away the scar tissue that bound Romeo’s leg like webbing and replace it with a large skin graft taken from his back. His father asked one of our surgeons, Commander Todd, if the boy would ever be able to ride his bicycle again. Dr. Todd said there was a remote chance he may one day be able to ride a bike - and perhaps even stand on his own – although the boy would probably never walk more than a few steps.
Today, a few days after his surgery, I saw Romeo walk on crutches for the first time since the explosion. He was surrounded by family members and his doctors, Commander Todd, Commander Tan, Commander Douglas (his plastic Surgeon), Captain Goldberg (his physical therapist) and a Navy journalist who captured the moment on video. We all watched as he climbed up on the exercise bike and rode like he was competing in the Tour de France! His father and sister watched in amazement with tears streaming down their cheeks. This is a boy who now has a chance to do things on his own. To go to school, work, play with friends, grow up and raise a family. His father shook our hands and hugged us all, then looked into my eyes and said “Salamat Po” (a sincere thank you.) I would have traded all my medals for those two words.
So that was my day. How are you all doing?
Sincerely,
Shawn Cohen
CPO, USN
Kind of says it all.
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