Bornemann MMU Transcript

Bornemann MMU Transcript

We actually worked with a family while we were there, and we would get notified, our chief medical officer would get notified, that someone from the Ministry of Health is sending a patient suspected or confirmed. We got a patient who was quite ill, quite ill, and as we watched his admittance to our MMU, you could tell he was quite ill. That upset many of us. Why couldn't we have got him earlier, where we could really truly help him? Whatever reason. He passed, and that was very difficult for a number of us. Some of the toughest guys I've ever met had a hard time. It was human life. We were there to help and we couldn't help him. One of our roles as behavioral health is when we had a death, we would collect flowers. Obviously, there was a lot of suspicion around Americans, and actually anyone coming in. "What are they doing to our people and the bodies, and are they giving us Ebola?" All of that. Of course, a recently deceased human body being the most highly infectious, it's not like we could let family members see the body. Obviously, it's often a gruesome death. We all felt it was incredibly important to treat our patients, whether alive or deceased, with the greatest amount of respect.

Behavioral health, we would go out and pick flowers, which is a lot harder to do than one could think. But around our area. One of my teammates, Commander Amy Peterson, had gone into town and bought some material, some very beautiful material, and the morgue team would clean the body and present the body with the flowers and the material. We just used it as material around the head of the deceased patient. We would take a picture, make sure the picture came through, and the morgue team would then prepare the body for transport to the morgue. That was something that was incredibly important to the morgue team and our team as a whole, and we felt honored as behavioral health to be able to collect the flowers just to do our little part. Then the morgue team performed their duty. We had a morgue onsite, but we didn't dispose of the bodies. Actually, a Liberian company was tasked with that. The chief medical officer notified the next of kin, the brother, and I went to meet with the brother after some of my colleagues had.

Alvin, who you will meet I hope, is one of our survivors who came back to work with us. A phenomenal young man, a PA [physician assistant], who did become infected but he walked out of our MMU. He's been an amazing proponent for Ebola survivors and reducing stigma and the like. Alvin came with me, and because he was a family member of someone recently deceased by Ebola, we had to keep our six feet band around him. Now, I've worked in oncology social work. For me not to hug or be there to hug a patient's family member after a death, that's hard. In fact, I said, "Would you like anything?" And I said, "We have soda." We didn't have much to offer, right, but soda. "Oh, I'd love a soda, a Sprite." So I went and I got one for him and one for Alvin. To give it to him I had to pass it to Alvin and Alvin had to pass it to him because Alvin was a survivor. In talking with him, I realized he did not want to stay to see the company come and remove his brother's body to go to the crematorium. He wanted to go. He wanted to leave and go to his family. The chief medical officer, our officer in charge, our deputy officer in charge, we all came out and walked him to the street where he caught a moped taxi which a lot of people get around on, just random, and took it back to his family's home. I walked away from that experience and I went around the corner because I'm the tough one, I'm behavioral health, I need to make sure everyone stays safe, and I lost it. I couldn't imagine just losing one of my sisters and hopping in a taxi. And also not knowing if I was sick.

Earlier in the week, the patient who had just died was--they were taking blood at a clinic and something happened and his brother was asked to apply pressure. He had contact with the blood. In talking with him, we needed to provide him with awareness of the risks. He wasn't a healthcare worker--the patient who died was--but his brother was a security guard at an ETU. In talking with him, it was very upsetting knowing the chances of him getting Ebola were quite high, but nevertheless we provided warning, guidance, as much support as we could, and like, God bless. It was very hard. I'm not going to try to remember all the exact days, but shortly thereafter, the two of them, their sister came in positive for Ebola. She fought the fight and she was just so sweet. It must have been terrifying being in that room where her brother had just died all by herself. It's not like a hospital room with the door open and everyone walking around. You're alone. And she fought. Then we got the call that we all sadly knew was going to happen and the brother did have symptoms, so we brought him in and he was confirmed for Ebola. The brother and sister were there together in the confirmed area of our MMU. She was doing better than he was, and each day she was getting stronger and he was not. She was feeling better to the point that she came out and met Loveless, the dietitian and I, around back where I had first met him in the visitor's area because you have to be separated. We asked her what she wanted or what she would like or if she wanted to talk, and she wanted fufu soup, and that's all she wanted was her fufu soup. I'll never forget that. She was so sweet and soft spoken, and we weren't able to communicate very well but it was more just, hey, we're here and if we can get you some fufu soup, we're going to get you some fufu soup. Loveless did get her fufu soup. Then we were leaving and she was getting better and her brother was getting worse. It was a really hard time for our team because we were going home, but we had a patient who we all obviously cared very much about who had already lost his brother who was not doing well. A number of our folks are very spiritual and we all, a bunch of us ladies stood and we were trying to sing to him, but you couldn't get anywhere close and with the air conditioning generators, couldn't get anywhere close.

Q: What did you try to sing?

BORNEMANN: Primarily hymnals. I did not lead. I can't sing, but I was there and I tried to sing along with any words that I knew. By that point none of us were going back anymore. Team Three had already arrived, we had trained them, and we needed to let go. It was really hard. We tried to do what we could, and I remember, please feel this, please feel this.

We left, got back to the States, and then we did find out that he passed. That was very hard for our team, very hard. We lost two brothers. I'm very pleased to say the sister did survive and made it, and interestingly, their mother was the last person--she wasn't seen at MMU, but she was the last person discharged from the ETU Ebola-free when we had that first "we're Ebola-free" in the country. It didn't last for very long, but we were Ebola-free, and that was their mother. It just goes to show you, who knows, same family, same infection. But that's something that was very powerful for us, that family, just one of very many, but one that we became close with, just decimated. How one week I'm talking to this guy, no symptoms, but obviously sad, his brother had passed, and knowing that the likelihood was so high. I will never forget that. I'll never forget him. You know, God bless.