Tsunami Disaster

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Nabilla's Story

Clint Eastwood has a movie... Million Dollar Baby... that's a scripted movie - let me tell you an unscripted, real life Priceless Miracle Baby story.

We arrived in Banda Aceh, set up at a Mosque and dug in with the over 500 people surrounding us.Chaos is such a mild word in retrospect.We were a rag tag bunch with overwhelming sleep deprivation and heat exhaustion and complete sensory overload of horror from the visual destruction and stench of death that permeated the air and our minds - but we just wanted to serve these people.We could not remove their pain and terror in their eyes from something so frightening just seven days before we arrived in their area, but we could do what we were called to do, work... don't think, pray hardquietly in our heads to ourselves and try to remember to breathe.

Life became surreal quickly, no time to break down and cry, the medical team was in full force, the food distribution team was working so hard, the water purification guys resembled an episode of MacGyver, our temporary tent city was placed at the front steps of the Mosque right next to their tent city that will be their home for too long.Things were happening and it was time for me to check to make sure the team had water.I went to the medical team to see if they needed water (what good is a team if they are also dropping like flies - we had been through three 6.0+ aftershocks from 10pm the night before and everyone was shaken - literally and emotionally)

Shannon said "Sharon this baby needs to get to the hospital immediately"Kathy, one of our nurses told me the father would not allow the baby to go to the hospital.I looked down at this mother holding what I was told to be a three month old baby, she looked more like a preemie baby weighing in at about 5 pounds, her little leg just hanging there seemed to be purple and black and not even as wide as two of my fingers, and her mother's eyes held no life behind them - just emotionless as she held her daughter that would be dead within hours.I looked at the father and tried my best with great respect to the Indonesian culture I have grown to love these past 3+ years to talk to him about the baby.The Muslim woman translating for Kathy and Shannon told me the father was afraid they would keep his daughter.I gently placed my hand on his arm and told him I promised I would go to the hospital personally and I would not let them keep his baby, I would not leave them there.He agreed to go and, Lord willing, I was determined to keep my word.

	Nabilla and her family.

Of course in the meantime, another young girl (18 years) was in desperate need of the hospital also.My job as the Partners Ambulance began.However her story is another one for another time.... along with the boy that had been in the sea for three days, the pre-mature baby boom that occurred because pregnant women ran for their lives in total hell, and many others, including the absolute devastation to the lives of doctors and nurses unable to save lives. A moving tear jerker episode of MASH had nothing on what I saw in a doctor's eyes I spoke with briefly.

BUT, I'd like to introduce to you the strongest three month old Miracle baby, Nabilla and her mom Rosmiati and her dad Burhamuddin.As we climbed into the truck I was told the baby probably wouldn't last the car ride.We drove to one hospital over 30 minutes away, past the bodies being pulled from the river, in traffic so thick at times I thought of running faster, we finally made it to the airport tent city... that's when I saw the "Doctor's Without Borders - Malaysia" tent... ran to the doctor and he said no infant needles for IV drips, I needed to get her to another hospital, 20 minutes away, but they would keep the 18 year old.I told them thanks but there was no way I was letting her out of my sight either.

Back in the hot SUV, that's when I heard Nabilla vomiting in the back seat in her mother's arms, slight very painful cries would emerge from this near lifeless body with eyes sunk in so deep and the darkness of death overtaking her skin coloring.They just looked at me, the parents and the 18 year old girl.

We made it to the hospital and as we pulled in the only gate the piles (literally) of dead bodies with parts protruding from the black trash bags met us with that horrific smell - the 18 year old made a sound and I realized why the father didn't want the baby to be brought here.The mother and father had apparently accepted their daughter would die but they loved her so much they did not want her placed in one of those bags and tossed on a pile of others.At the Mosque they could at least bury her with dignity.

The Australian Army Medics were awesome, they took the 18 year old with her bad leg injuries and gangrene setting in and my driver stayed with her while I ran through the hospital trying to find where the baby should go.There were a couple guys from the press standing there and I asked if they spoke English when they did I asked where the Pediatric ICU was...I ran in that door and right into a woman who would become my new best friend for the next few days, Nurse Ellis from Jakarta.She immediately stopped everything she was doing and took our baby - I spent the rest of the time running between the two areas of the hospital while I had two of our Acehnese guys that could speak English with me, since more had been brought to the hospital.

I spent most of my time at the hospital, even though I never had the opportunity to drive Nabilla home to the Mosque, I knew when I finally said goodbye at the hospital January 7th that our little girl, our miracle baby, our little fighter had taken in so many IV bags of fluid and her skin color became a beautiful shade of life, and her sunken eyes lost their skeletal resemblance and her little cry became the beginnings of her story and the amazing smile on her mother's face and the handshake from her father with his smile let me know he trusted me and the promise was kept.I wanted to explode with joy but instead so many kids had filled the Pediatric ICU, just a few hours before I was there and some cots were empty, now 13 days later all the army cots had children, bleeding, screaming as their scabbed over wounds were being scraped because of disease - more premature babies had been born overnight, and I sat on the floor with a terrified brother with his baby sister the only two survivors of their entire family as he told me of her injuries.I can't escape their eyes.The worst part, is to multiply their story by about 100,000 and then ask God what you can do to help us, you can know for certain where your money will go.

I can't wait to see Nabilla and her parents when I return to Banda Aceh in February, that's when I can bring my husband and find our friends.That's when his expertise in Post Traumatic Care will be of value.

God gave us a gift - we all fell in love with Nabilla and her parents, she brought us Hope when we felt helpless.

Mother Theresa said we must dip our hands into he sea of suffering humanity and touch those we can.Well we are not the big boys in Disaster Relief, but we are a very blessed rag tag group that wanted to touch someone's life and God honored our hearts desire.

We did NOT come to change them, make them believe the way we do, or anything else corrupt - they knew we came to bring them hope in the form of drinkable water, food, baby formula, medicine, trauma care, clothing & shelter.And that's what we will keep doing as long as we're allowed to stay in Banda Aceh.

for more information please feel free to e-mail me personally: sharon@partnersworld.org

Sharon M. Totten, Partners USA Director

All I wanted to do is to go, be there, hold a hand help someone grieve.There is so much more that needs to be done in Bande Aceh - but it is not about the structural damage. It is about the people there that have been left. Left to pick up the pieces, deal with the loss and grief, and somehow regain the courage that it will take them to live.These are all people that are made in the image of God. When you look into their eyes and see their pain, you just want to suffer with them - to try to let them know through your actions that they are not alone, that there are people who have not forgotten them, and that they are loved.

I was privileged to work in the triage station inside the medical tent. I met a husband and wife that had been crushed by their house and trapped in the water for 6 hours. They had to stretch their heads out of the water to be able to breath. They were trapped under the rubble for 2 days, screaming out for help as people walked by. She had the wall of her house collapsed on top of her and broke all of her ribs and chest plate. The water came and pushed her? mile from her house on her back and pin her down. Her husband had been trapped from his waist down by falling debris then pushed out from the power of the tsunami waves until he was in a completely different area. As I held her hand while the plaster was being removed from her back - she just looked into my eyes and wept. She had lost her 3 sons and 11 others from her family. She just wanted to stop reliving it again and again in their dreams.

One father, as we were cleaning and stitching up his wounds started to cry as soon as I put a hand on his shoulder. The look in his eyes was of complete devastation and guilt. He told me that he tried desperately to hold on to his 3 sons as the waves hit - He told me that it was his fault that they died - he should have been able to save them, he should have been able to hold on.

I treated one 2-year-old baby for dehydration for about 30 minutes. I held him in my arms and he was catatonic and shivering. As he began to re-hydrate, a man about 86 years old was standing there in tears. I asked him if he was okay, if there was any thing I could do for him. He told me that he lost his entire family and that the tsunami destroyed all that he had. He ended up a mile from where the tsunami hit and this little boy was just laying near him when he came to. He has now taking care of this little boy, whom he named Eddie. Eddie is doing fine now.

About 400 people received medical treatment. Most of the survivors were suffering from wounds from being dragged by the power of the wave, pneumonia, scabies, malaria, dehydration, and mud and sand in their lungs. The more devastating sadness was to see the fear and vacancy behind their eyes. They are reliving the event over and over in their minds. This is not something that can be healed in one medical treatment. They need your prayers.

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