Reaching Past The Wire: A Nurse at Abu Ghraib

7. The Marine and Mohammed

The Marine and Mohammed I quickly became familiar with the hospital and the ward to which I was assigned. Our daily work involved a lot of wound care, amputation follow-up care, pain management , and working closely with the patients. We had basic supplies and surgical and emergency room capability, but nursing and medical care presented challenges in this austere environment. We learned to improvise when we ran out of supplies like colostomy bags. That was not easy to do. Without physical therapists or occupational therapists, we had to be creative in finding ways to rehabilitate our patients . We wore many hats and did the best we could. All DepMeds hospitals are set up alike; for those of us who had not worked in a prison, this lent structure for providing safe and reasonable medical care. The challenge was providing good nursing care while keeping aware of personal safety. The MPs played a vital role in that respect. An mp was always stationed at each entrance to the hospital . Other mps stayed beside the doctors and nurses as we cared for patients. Translators were always on hand. 59 ★ 7 Every time we left the hospital, even to use the outdoor toilets, we were required to carry our weapons. When we re-entered the hospital, we cleared them in the clearing barrel, turned them over to the secured o∞ce manned by the sergeant on duty, and received a number, like a coat check, for the weapon. The young soldiers and Marines were impressive. (I had learned many years earlier not to call Marines “soldiers .”) They seemed so seasoned, so road smart, so very brave. For the first time, I had a full appreciation of what soldiers and Marines in Iraq were doing. I depended upon them and trusted them to keep us safe. I also finally realized why, when they had come to Kuwait, they always commented on how nice we had it there. I did a lot of thinking about how I would handle my feelings about the prisoners I treated. I would not get to know anything personal about the patients, I decided, and would not listen to anything about their children and families . I would maintain neutral feelings about them and only treat their medical needs. I would be professional but not personable. E-mail to my niece, Amy: This is by far the most unusual experience of my life. We are in such a very dangerous place with such a terrible history and yet I am sitting here tonight e-mailing and there is a movie playing in the background. We all know that at any moment we probably will be mortared but in between life goes on. I wear a helmet, interceptor vest, and a weapon everywhere except in the brick buildings. You just drop to the ground when the Reaching Past the Wire 60 mortars come in because the shrapnel rises and injuries are usually less on the ground. If you are within a certain range you just need to kiss it good-bye. We are like prisoners ourselves here. Age and rank have few if any privileges here. The doctors are carpenters when not in surgery, we all have to burn trash and human waste, clean up this place, and you name it. Survival is the name of the game, and everyone has to participate. I will survive this but I do know that I will have survived a little bit of hell in the process. One evening shortly after I arrived at Abu Ghraib, the front doors of the hospital flew open and a few Marines burst in carrying one of their own. “Where do we go?” they shouted. “Our buddy’s shot!” Immediately, we all dropped what we were doing and ran to the EMT. In a blur of activity and noise, with doctors and nurses asking for this or that piece of equipment, the bloody body in full uniform became the focus of everyone’s attention. He had been shot in the head, and much of the back of his skull was gone. His face was covered with blood. The emt sta≠ started full emergency care, including ivs. The helicopter was called for the seven- to ten-minute ride to Baghdad, where he could get his chance at life with neurosurgery. All of us knew that would not happen for him. He was injured too badly, and not...