Trauma: A Different Line of Work/ Medical Team Works to Save Americans, Iraqis

CAMP TAJI, IRAQ

01.07.2005

Courtesy Story

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By Staff Sgt. Rebekah-mae Bruns

CAMP TAJI, Iraq - As soon as they received word, medics began politely shuffling past, quickly readying medical supplies and clearing off gurneys. A trauma victim was due to arrive at their small, MASH-like facility at any given moment. The patient? A local Iraqi with a gunshot wound to the foot. The circumstances were unclear but soldiers, who were flagged down by local civilians, were bringing him in.

Events like this are common for the 39th Brigade's medical staff. For nearly nine months they have been treating and caring for both Iraqis and Americans.

It was humble beginnings with their first facility. They worked and operated out of a tent for several months before attaining a scant but workable building that has now turned into a full swing treatment facility.

"Let's get this guy some morphine," yelled out Lt. Col. David Paladino, 55, of Conway, Ark.

With the patient on the gurney and the I.V. started, medics bustled about cutting off his clothes and began to prepare the wound for cleaning.

"Allah..." moaned the patient as his legs bounced around and shook uncontrollably on the Gurney. "Allahâ"

Meanwhile, another Iraqi man, who earlier had stopped on the road to help, held on to the wounded individual's hand in an effort to support.

The jobs of the medical staff have been two-fold. They take care of minor illnesses, infections, and skin rashes -- things that daily evolve in Soldier care.

But they also attend those injured in war and such said cases tend to be more trauma-oriented.

Last April, only two weeks after their arrival in Iraq, an enemy mortar attack struck at the very core of the brigade.

The assault of mortars managed to cause the death of four individuals and seriously wounded 14 others; they were the first casualties for the Arkansas Bowie Brigade.
"That was our baptism into the country," said Paladino, a physician's assistant who served as a Special Forces medic in Vietnam.

"None of them had simple injuries. They were high explosive injuries with shrapnel - so you had a blast effect."

That blast effect caused multiple traumas and amputees said Paladino. His staff had to react fast.

The frequency of trauma events for the clinic is unpredictable. Sometimes there is two or three a week and other times there aren't any. But most surprisingly, the majority of their traumas are not Americans, but instead are Iraqi National Guard and Iraqi Army soldiers.

Most recently, a group of ING was ambushed with a roadside bomb and small arms fire. The Iraqi soldiers were evacuated to the 39th's medical facility where seven of them were treated for gunshot wounds.

"We treat them the same as us," said Spc. Amanda Griffin, 28, of Little Rock, Ark. "There's no variation between treatment for the Americans or the Iraqi's."

Griffin, a combat medic, begins pouring water over the man's wound to clean it. There are two large holes in his foot from where the bullet entered and exited. Pieces of the Tibia and Fibula bones are missing, and the artery in his foot is gone.

A translator, who is kept on staff to help with language barriers, begins asking the patient questions about where he lives and what his name is. He mutters in Arabic the information needed, while gripping the shirt of the friendly Iraqi that stopped to help.
Helping wounded Iraqis gives the medics a unique opportunity to extend good will and demonstrate their kindness as Americans.

Their hope is to build a more positive relationship through their patients.
"If they are conscious, they see that we are good and that we're trying to help," Griffin said.

"They're human beings [just like us]."

The uncontrollable shake in the patient's leg is now gone. The morphine has taken effect and Paladino and Griffin carefully begin the task of bandaging his foot with gauze and wrap.

The next step is transport via helicopter for treatment at the Combat Support Hospital in Baghdad.

The medical team is well trained and versed in their roles, but it doesn't mean the trauma they see is simple to cope with.

"It's the things you see over here; they've helped [me] to mature and not take things for granted," said Griffin. "You have to build up an immunity to deal with what you see."

Some keep journals as a way of release and others simply talk about it or joke to dissolve the stress. Most of the staff has worked together over the last four years so the sense of family has also helped.

But still there is the sense of brevity in life, the unshakable feeling that nothing should be taken for granted.

"Life is a gift," said Griffin adamantly. "You don't know what could happen. You could be breathing and gone the next. That's the reality."

With the patient now on the helicopter, the medics begin the tedious task of cleaning up, restocking and preparing for whatever event might come next. It could happen a week from now or it could take place within the next few minutes.

• Date Taken: 01.07.2005
• Date Posted: 01.07.2005 16:34
• Story ID: 820
• Location: CAMP TAJI, IQ