“In the days since the storm, New Orleans had become an irrational and uncivil environment. It seemed to [Dr. John] Thiele the laws of man and the normal standards of medicine no longer applied. He had no time to provide what he considered appropriate end-of-life care. He accepted the premise that the patients could not be moved and the staff had to go. He could not justify hanging a morphine drip and praying it didn’t run out after everyone left and before the patient died, following an interval of acute suffering. He could rationalize what he was about to do as merely abbreviating a normal process of comfort care – cutting corners – but he knew that it was technically a crime. It didn’t occur to him then to stay with the patients until they died naturally. That would have meant, he later said he believed, risking his life…”
- Sheri Fink, Five Days at Memorial: Life and Death in a Storm-Ravaged Hospital
If you want a case study on situational ethics, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better one than the five days at Memorial Medical Center during and after Hurricane Katrina. With the power gone, the heat sweltering, and rising water making evacuation slow, the doctors and nurses faced agonizing choices regarding the order in which their patients were rescued. At the end of their ordeal, believing that certain patients could not be removed, a handful of individuals injected their wards with a lethal combination of morphine and midazolam.
When the waters finally receded, forty-five bodies were discovered in the chapel of Memorial, some belonging to those who had been euthanized. This revelation caused a national furor, and three women – including Dr. Anna Pou – were brought before a grand jury for murder.
This is the kind of story that generates gut reactions and moral certitudes, a perfect encapsulation of the outrage-industrial complex. In Five Days at Memorial, Sheri Fink resists the impulse to find simple conclusions, and turns these events into an epic of ambiguities.
***
If nothing else, Five Days at Memorial is thorough. At nearly five-hundred pages of text, Fink has the luxury of space, and she uses it well.
Fink begins with a brief history of Memorial Medical Center, and its place within the City of New Orleans. The takeaway from this section is that the city – and its hospital – had been hit by hurricanes before. These experiences demonstrated a number of risk factors, though precious few steps had been taken to ameliorate them. Thus, decades before we get to the fraught decisions made by Dr. Pou, Dr. John Thiele, and others, we have larger systemic issues foreclosing some of their options.
***
Unsurprisingly, the most gripping part of the book is the day-by-day recounting of Memorial Medical Center during and after Hurricane Katrina. Initially, the hospital weathered the wind and rain with no more than modest damage. Though it lost city power – knocking out the air-conditioning – the hospital’s generators kept life support systems going. Moreover, despite later assertions of shortages, plenty of food and water were at hand.
Then the levees broke, the floodwaters came, and the ground floor electrical systems at Memorial failed, killing the generators. For the most part, doctors and nurses performed valiantly, even though no contingency plans had been formulated for such an occasion. Only tenuously supported by Tenet, their corporate parent, hospital staff managed to get some patients and family members out by boat, others by helicopter.
Desperation nevertheless reigned. Rumors from outside the hospital told of a city turned into a hell-zone of looters, rapists, and murderers. Inside the hospital, high temperatures, overflowing toilets, and a lack of sleep all dulled the decision-making abilities of those tasked with making life-or-death choices. It is also apparent that the loss of their high-tech gadgetry wreaked havoc on the psyches of Memorial’s staff. Plunged backwards in time, they struggled to practice medicine without the tools upon which they typically relied. One is tempted to believe things would have been better off with the nineteenth century expertise of Florence Nightengale or Clara Barton.
The upshot is that things that seemed clear in hindsight were hidden in the moment. Actions that should have been unthinkable began to seem the only humane option.
***
Fink’s coverage goes well beyond the titular five-day span. Indeed, roughly half of Five Days at Memorial is devoted to the somewhat convoluted aftermath.
This section is not as inherently vivid as the storm, and involves quite a bit of repetition, as we revisit scenes that occurred earlier. Furthermore, some of Fink’s storylines feel less vital than others. For example, she closely follows one of Dr. Pou’s cancer patients, a man with no connection to Memorial or the hurricane. Fink does this out of fairness, to show that despite being accused of murder, Dr. Pou was – in better circumstances – a very good physician. Still, it felt rather disconnected from the core narrative.
With that said, I appreciated Fink’s detailed recounting of the investigation of the Attorney General’s Office, which eventually led to a grand jury hearing. I also liked her discussion about the ethical dilemmas presented by triage, in which medical professionals have to decide who gets immediate treatment, and who has to wait. Meanwhile, Dr. Frank Minyard, the Orlean’s Parish Coroner, is a character bizarre and charismatic enough to carry his own book.
***
Fink is an author perfectly suited for this material. She is a medical doctor, has a Ph.D. in neuroscience, and helped refugees during the war in Kosovo. Given this background, she is more than entitled to cast judgment. Yet Fink mostly refrains from so doing. I definitely got the sense that she disagreed with Dr. Pou and others, but she lays out all the evidence. More than that, she goes above and beyond in her efforts to incorporate all perspectives.
***
Five Days at Memorial is one of those volumes that begs to be chosen by book clubs, everything in it ripe for debate.
Ultimately, it seems clear that the Memorial “mercy killings” were wrong, both medically and morally. Some of the patients that appeared likely to die probably would have survived if left alone. Whether these actions constituted crimes is a tougher call.
The fundamental proposition underlying criminal law is the requirement of mens rea and actus reus: a bad act coupled with evil intent. Obviously, there are exceptions. Most would agree that a drunk driver who kills someone has committed a homicide, even if he did not intend to end a life. The general rule, however, is firmly rooted. Criminal law serves two main purposes: to punish and to deter. Deterring a person from a mistake is illogical, while punishing a person for a mistake is unjust.
The doctors who chose to euthanize patients at Memorial were misguided; they were flawed; they based their conduct on faulty assumptions. But their motivations did not appear malicious. This is not the case of Harold Shipman or Beverley Allitt. Dr. Pou and her companions truly believed they were doing the best thing for their victims.
As a former defense attorney, I understand firsthand that America is a country that is crazy for convictions. We love to see people incarcerated (unless that person is a corporate executive, an elected official, or a person with true power and overarching responsibility). To me, if you are going to apportion criminal responsibility, then you cannot stop at the doctor who chose to stay at a hurricane-savaged hospital. You also have to go up the chain to Tenet executives, members of the Army Corps of Engineers, the Mayor of New Orleans, the Governor of Louisiana, the director of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, and the President of the United States. All their fingerprints are also visible in these deaths.
In short, Five Days at Memorial is complex, a small scale human drama played out against a vast background of governmental incompetence, structural failures, and relentless nature far larger than a single person.
***
We like to think that when faced with a great challenge, we will rise to meet it. That our best selves will show through. Five Days at Memorial shows you that this is not necessarily going to happen, even if you are a highly-skilled practitioner who has seen terrible things before. More frighteningly, it shows you that certain challenges are so extreme that it is hard to say what your best self even looks like.