A lifelong New Orleans resident, Dr. Jamie Manders is thinking ahead for herself and her family. But putting the past four days behind her isn't easy.

Waking in the night, hours after she and her 83-year-old mother reached the safety of a friend's house Wednesday in Baton Rouge, Dr. Manders cried for the second time in the past four days.

"I was as strong as I could possibly be while it was all happening," Dr. Manders, who had yet to see a television or news report, told ADA News late Thursday morning. "But now I know I'm going to break down from time to time."

Under threat of Hurricane Katrina, Dr. Manders, her husband and her Alzheimer's-stricken mother evacuated their Algiers home early Sunday morning. They moved into the 10-by-15-foot room of a convent attached to Mercy Medical Center, where her husband, James Riopelle, M.D., works as an anesthesiologist.

Dr. Manders, chair of the Louisiana Dental Association's Well-Being Committee, is a practicing dentist and teaches dental students one day each week at Louisiana State University. She's been through hurricanes before, knows the drill.

"I thought we'd be there for two days," she said. "Three at the most."

Monday afternoon Dr. Manders thought the worst was over. Tuesday morning she looked out the window and asked herself, "Why is the water rising?"

The 17th Street levee had given way, allowing the waters from Lake Pontchartrain to flood the city. With the water came Katrina's refugees. The medical center was quickly overrun with desperate people.

"People were stealing drugs and supplies from the operating room," said Dr. Manders. "They were stealing from each other."

While her husband helped patients and staff, Dr. Manders spent most of the time in the small, stifling room with her mother. She feared that the longer the situation went on, the more dangerous it would become. She and her family had eaten most of the food they'd brought to the shelter and what remained was in jeopardy of being stolen — crackers, cashew nuts, peanut butter and ice.

"You just have no idea how grimy you can get," explained Dr. Manders about the relentless heat they experienced in that tiny room on the top floor. "I was soaked through the whole time."

Even worse, she said, was the stench. Without water, all the toilets in the building were stopped up. Adding to the problem, hospital staff had brought pets along with family members.

She was fearing the worst for her mother's health when she learned they would be evacuated. That was the first time she broke down and cried.

"I knew we were going to be safe," she said, although she was leaving her husband at the medical center. "And I knew the house and car could be replaced. But I left my cats at home with only three days of water. They can't be replaced."

She helped her mother with her walker down the five flights of stairs and waded to a boat that took them to a levee about a mile from the hospital.

"It was a piece of land barely large enough to land the helicopter," said Dr. Manders. "Everyone had to look the other way each time it lifted to avoid the water and debris in their eyes."

She and her mother were flown to an evacuation staging area in Metarie, La., where hundreds of people waited to be transported. There she met Linden Comeaux Sr. and his son. They had left the safety of their home in New Iberia that morning with a small boat to volunteer any help they could. When the Comeauxs arrived in New Orleans they were told there were too many boats, so they offered rides in their pick-up truck.

En route to her father-in-law's house in Baton Rouge, Dr. Manders found an old friend who took her and her mother into her home, which was without electricity. Her brother would arrive soon from Houston to take her and her mother home with him.

Dr. Manders worries about her husband, but says she knows he'll be OK. She doesn't know the extent of the damage to her house in Algiers, La.

But she said she's going to try to concentrate on the good she has seen since the disaster. Like the transplant surgeon she knew only by the name of "Dr. Rahm," the first syllable of a much longer name, who swam out of safety and into the medical center to treat patients. And a nurse who swam from the medical center to her house to retrieve a paddle boat to evacuate people. And, of course, the father and son team who drove her to safety.

Dr. Manders' undefeatable spirit and sense of humor remain intact.

"I couldn't get a contractor before the storm," she explained. "Just imagine what it'll be like now."

© 2005 HealthNewsDigest.com