Hope after the Storm

For native Floridians, hurricane season often brings evenings of torrential downpours and broken umbrellas. When a storm finally decides to make landfall on the peninsula, natives hunker down, friends plan hurricane parties, and students secretly hope for an extra day off. However, as a mainland Puerto Rican living in the sunshine state, I have always kept a close eye on the weather doppler and each hurricane’s course relative to the little green of island of Puerto Rico. With its vibrantly green rainforests and boisterously welcoming people, the island is a paradise to the naked eye. However, Puerto Rico history is filled with many struggles that have left it in a financial crisis and a failing power grid. So with the news of category 5 Hurricane Maria barreling in at a whopping 175 mile per hour, there was nothing left to do but pray. With a pantry full of extra granola bars and water bottles, I fell asleep on the windy night of September 19, praying that my family would safe. Praying that my family had found enough food, water, and batteries to hold them over through the storm. Praying that their houses would be intact afterwards. Praying that our little island would still be there once it was all over.

September 20 came and went, and for two weeks, we knew nothing. My neuroscience course was in full swing during this time period, and balancing the reality of a natural disaster with the bubble of medical school was a challenge. Understanding the spinal tracts seemed trivial compared to the uneasiness of not knowing how my family was managing. Each passing day, my parents and I hoped for the best but prepared for the worst as we had yet to hear from anyone back on the island. After 17 long days passed, my aunt finally received cellular signal next to a Burger King half an hour away from her house. I had never been so happy to hear her voice, until she told me that the town now looked like the remnants of an atomic bomb. The wind and the rain had torn through the trees leaving only dry, leafless trunks in their wake. I had been living in ignorant bliss up until that point, but tears finally consumed me when faced with the reality of the aftermath.

School was my chance to escape. I wore a mask. I smiled and laughed at all the right, times but I was screaming on the inside feeling powerless to help my family. The truth of my emotions finally became public at a panel run by Latino physicians which took place about 3 weeks after the storm. One physician spoke about her experiences upon first coming to this country. The culture shock, the language barrier, and the job searching all seemed impossible to handle at the time. I’d heard these types of stories from my parents and friends but they’d never felt like a reality until I learned that my aunt and cousin were being forced to relocate to Florida because of the loss of their jobs and subsequently, their home. While their home thankfully remained intact, my aunt’s nail salon quickly went out of business, making her unable to pay rent. Sadly, the nail salon was only one of thousands of small businesses that were forced to permanently close as the island’s population was suddenly faced with the difficulty of finding even basic food and water. Lines were 12 hours long for a gallon of gas. Families were only allotted one gallon of water per family.

Puerto Ricans had effectively become refugees overnight. During the panel, tears began to stream down my face knowing that this physician’s former struggles are now what face my own family. After seeing my reaction, the panelists kindly took me to coffee to comfort me and ask how they could help. From that simple coffee talk, we created the Puerto Rico Relief Initiative.

This initiative has become on ongoing goal to provide sustainable, culturally competent medical relief in partnership with Puerto Rican hospitals and medical schools and with a focus on mosquito protection and water filtration. The standing water left from the storm acts as a reservoir for mosquitoes, which carry various serious and fatal diseases including dengue, chikungunya, and zika virus. Additionally, the storm destroyed several water pipes across the island resulting in mass contamination of water sources. Cases of leptospirosis have already been reported, and fears of potential cholera outbreaks are on the rise. To avoid infection by contaminated water, many Puerto Ricans collect the rain water that drains off of their roofs for use in cooking and bathing. With FEMA’s recent announcement to end food and water shipment, the need is even more dire.

This need brought together a caring group of people who have worked hard to provide the island its most needed supplies. Our team grew quickly from just myself (a medical student), an ER doctor, and a urologist, and now includes a family medicine doctor, pathologist, and a retired OB GYN with an affinity for flying planes. In December alone, we hosted a salsa festival to celebrate the Puerto Rican culture and mobilized my school and community to collect 2,000 pounds of supplies that will be personally flown by the OB GYN directly to our contacts in Puerto Rico. We have another large donation ready to ship in the near future, and plan to host a gala this year to continue to promote awareness and support for clean water on the island. Despite the waning media coverage, the disaster is not over. The storm will negatively impact the island for years to come, and needs will inevitably change. With these changes, the Puerto Rico Relief Initiative will continue to partner with Puerto Ricans to re-establish the health of the people and the island.