Healthcare emergency preparedness
Five Days at MemorialHealthcare emergency preparedness is the ability of hospitals and the wider medical system to keep providing care, protect patients, and move people to safety during a disaster. The book treats it as an operational condition, not a document on a shelf: plans matter only if transport, power, water, communications, staffing, supplies, and decision-making can hold up under pressure. The Katrina crisis at Memorial Medical Center shows how a foreseeable hazard can become a cascading care failure when known vulnerabilities remain uncorrected and the systems around a hospital cannot support evacuation.
Preparedness Before the Storm
Hospitals in Louisiana had received federal support for emergency planning after the September 11 attacks and the anthrax mailings. Yet in the days before Hurricane Katrina, officials still lacked a reliable way to move the roughly 2,500 patients who remained in New Orleans. The city’s Hurricane Pam exercise had considered a catastrophic storm with more than 2,000 hospital patients, but the planning had not resolved how to evacuate them. Federal health officials had also not taken part in the latest planning sessions. A scenario could therefore be recognized without the practical means to answer it.
The physical risks were similarly well established. After Hurricane Ivan narrowly missed the city in 2004, Memorial’s Eric Yancovich studied storm-surge models with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. The models suggested that a major storm could bring twelve to fifteen feet of water around a hospital situated three feet below sea level. Yancovich sketched the hospital’s elevations by hand and calculated that less than four feet of water in Magnolia Street could flow over the loading dock. Although the backup generators were on the second floor, essential parts of the emergency-power distribution system were at or near ground level. He warned that the Medical Center could lose most of its power and that patients might need to be moved to the Clara Wing, where he believed circuitry was better protected.
Some protective work followed: floodgates were added and a vent for underground diesel tanks was raised. But Yancovich also recommended raising low-lying power-transfer switches and pumps supplying medical air and vacuum suction. A partial bid for electrical work exceeded a quarter of a million dollars; because capital was lacking, the proposal was left on file. The episode makes preparedness’s central weakness concrete: knowing that a system can fail is not the same as having the authority and resources to repair it. A generator’s location offered little protection if the connected equipment needed to distribute its power remained exposed.
Evacuation as a System-Wide Test
The evacuation order in New Orleans revealed that readiness depended on people’s ability to reach safety as well as on hospital plans. Many residents had no car or other means of escape, while officials knew transport arrangements had significant gaps, including too few drivers. The Superdome was designated a shelter of last resort, and people with medical conditions were directed there, but the public was not told what help to expect. Acadian dispatchers were overwhelmed with requests from hospitals, nursing homes, and homes; many ambulances were stuck on the interstate, and some delivered patients to the Superdome rather than out of the city. At Chalmette Medical Center, ambulances did not return after taking the first group of critically ill patients. In this setting, the need for medical evacuation exceeded the available transport and coordination.
At Memorial, disaster triage became part of the preparedness problem. Doctors decided that patients with do-not-resuscitate orders would be evacuated last, though such an order meant that resuscitation should not be attempted if breathing or heartbeat stopped; it did not, by itself, mean a patient was terminal or should not be rescued. A daughter whose oxygen-dependent mother had a DNR order asked to cancel it when she learned that her mother might be left behind. She explained that she had not understood the order to mean that her mother would not be rescued, and the patient was subsequently moved toward evacuation. The episode shows how an emergency rule can produce consequences beyond its intended scope when patients and families have not been given clear information or a chance to reconsider it under changed circumstances.
The burdens of failed readiness also fell beyond hospital walls. Karen Wynn saw a woman arrive for a scheduled chemotherapy appointment even though the hospital could not provide treatment. People who reached Memorial by boat, including a family with small children, were turned away because staff believed the hospital could take no more. Bryant King objected to that refusal; Wynn did not perceive racism in the decision, while King was troubled that nearly all those being turned away were African American. Their disagreement does not settle the hospital’s capacity or motive, but it makes visible how resource limits and emergency decisions are encountered by people with unequal options for shelter, transport, and care.
Preparedness, Care, and Institutional Contrast
The book sets Memorial’s predicament beside Charity Hospital’s response. Charity flooded and lost power, plumbing, computers, telephones, and elevators; it had no helipad, faced serious security concerns, and cared for more patients with fewer staff relative to their number. Its evacuation was not complete until the afternoon of September 2, a day after Memorial’s. Yet fewer than ten patients died there. Staff accounts attributed their persistence in part to frequent lobby meetings that included doctors and janitorial workers, and to morale-building efforts such as a flashlight-lit talent show. The contrast does not make the two hospitals’ conditions identical or reduce their outcomes to a single cause. It does show that infrastructure and resources are only part of readiness: communication, shared purpose, and the ability to sustain care also matter.
The historical account of Jannie Burgess adds another dimension. She was a Black practical nurse who had worked for decades in New Orleans hospitals and nursing homes, but could not receive care at many private hospitals where she could care for others. Southern Baptist Hospital, later Memorial, resisted integration and refused federal hospital programs whose reimbursements were conditioned on nondiscrimination. That history sits beside the later disaster decisions affecting patients, including the DNR-last rule. It does not establish that the rule was racially motivated, but it prevents emergency preparedness from being understood as a neutral technical problem alone: who can enter a hospital, receive information, and be prioritized for rescue is also part of the system’s capacity to protect people.
Lessons and Later Reforms
The book’s account of the deaths and disruptions in New Orleans locates responsibility across multiple failures: a delayed evacuation order, insufficient buses and drivers, uncoordinated rescue efforts, incompatible communications, inadequate hospital backup power and water, and fear of violence that interrupted rescue activity. Hospitals and nursing homes had not evacuated before the storm, and investments in systems capable of withstanding a prolonged emergency were insufficient. The result was not one isolated breakdown but a chain in which transportation, infrastructure, information, and care capacity failed together.
Subsequent developments indicate both improvement and the persistence of gaps. By the 2013 hurricane season, post-Katrina work at Ochsner Baptist Medical Center included new and restored generators and power-transfer switches, elevated central-plant infrastructure, a new water well to support cooling when city water was unavailable, and a restored heliport with direct elevator access to the neonatal intensive care unit. Federal emergency-preparedness requirements for facilities participating in Medicare and Medicaid, however, were still delayed as of July 2013; observers cited pushback against potentially costly requirements, and gaps in healthcare preparedness remained. The account also follows a U.S. disaster medical team in Port-au-Prince after the 2010 Haiti earthquake. Staff repeatedly found oxygen for Nathalie LeBrun, but a failing supply chain, an empty tank, and a portable concentrator that overheated exposed how fragile care remained when equipment, fuel, and resupply could not be relied upon.
Taken together, these cases define preparedness as continuing work rather than a completed certification. Accreditation surveys, hazard analyses, exercises, and emergency plans can identify obligations, but they cannot substitute for raised equipment, functioning backup systems, transport that can reach patients, and decisions that preserve informed choice. The book’s recurring measure is whether a system can keep caring for people when ordinary support disappears—and whether it has acted on warnings before that test arrives.