Operation Continuing Promise

What could be the furthest extreme from my life during the past 15 months? A week on the USS Iwo Jima. Inside a ship, filled with Americans, AC, cheeseburgers, hot showers, electricity and operation rooms. The Iwo is a fully operational amphibious Navy warship, complete with a battalion of Marines, Humvees and Helicopters. There were also Doctors. A lot of them.

This is because this was a humanitarian mission called “Continuing Promise.” Every year, a US Navy vessel, sometimes the Mercy or Comfort, other times the Iwo Jima or similar class vessels, go on six month tours of the Atlantic or Pacific Coast of the Americas giving free medical treatment, examinations, surgeries and even building toilets and playgrounds.

To give you an idea of the amount of costs, the fuel alone is about $10 million, purchased from host countries. Of course, every one of the crew member’s salaries, including those of the surgeons, doctors and specialists, their food and all of the medicine and glasses given are also included expenses for the mission.

They needed some extra help translating. On Monday 10 Peace Corps Volunteers met at a school in town converted into a field hospital. There, members from the Army, Navy and Air Force medical corps were examining patients. Stomach, skin, eye, hearing and many other ailments were examined and diagnosed. The surgery cases that required little follow-up such as cataracts, hernias and cists were scheduled to go back to the ship for operation. They said they could use a couple of translators on board for surgeries. So John, another PC Volunteer, and I spent the week on board with the patients and doctors.

On Tuesday we were airlifted to the boat that was docked about a mile outside of town. The next few days were filled with helping surgeons translate for pre- and post-operation instructions.

We also accompanied the patients into the operation rooms. There are a few minutes before anesthesia where we helped explain what to do. This vocabulary was completely different than anything I have ever used. For example: “We are taping your arms to the bed so that if you wake up you will not fall off” or “Please take off all of your clothes, empty your bladder and a nurse will come by shortly to take vital signs and give you an IV.”

These are things that typically do not come up in every day conversation. Scrubbing-in for an operation also isn’t something that I do every day. But that’s not all. Sunday was a VIP day. The president and vice president of Panama, American Ambassador and the Commodore of the mission came through on a tour.

I got a chance to say hello to the President of Panama which was shown on national television. I had just come back from the OR so I was wearing scrubs.

Our last night on board John and I attended the nightly briefing with the commanding officers. There Commodore Negus got his nightly news, weather, scheduling and other updates. He called us up in front and presented certificates of recognition to us signed by the Mission Commander, Commanding Officers and Joint Medical Group Commander.

To the crew members of the USS Iwo Jima, Medical Corpsmen and Marines, thank you for your courtesy and respect. A special thanks to Lieutenant Commander Hagan, Commander Wilson, the Navy nurses, Dutch anesthesiologists and Paraguayan surgical team.

And most importantly, to my chill-buddies Benitez, Ella, Howard, Franco, Ponce and Omaira. There are a few pages in my Iwo Memoranda notepad dedicated to you.

For more information on Operation Continuing Promise, see the Mission Home Page.