Occupational Therapy Assistant (OTA) student Kari Richmond has spent the last three-and-a-half years learning how to care for people with cognitive and physical challenges. When Helene hit, the ambitious mom felt called to jump in to help on A-B Tech’s campus when her classroom building, The Ferguson Center for Allied Health, transformed overnight into an emergency medical shelter for those dependent on power for medical equipment.
During the twelve-hour shifts worked over the course of one month, Richmond, unexpectedly, was able to gain even more valuable experience in her new field. Though challenging, this time was an experience she would never forget.
The shelter, which was operated by Buncombe County and the Red Cross, was open on the first floor of the Allied Health Building from September 28 to October 28. Since the college was without water, portable showers and toilets were set up outside the building. The building’s lobby, Richmond said, housed up to 65 people on cots.
During her 8:00 a.m.- 8:00 p.m. shifts, Richmond assisted with everything from personal hygiene to providing companionship and dishing out hot meals donated by FEMA and the National Guard.
She gave a man a ride to Walmart to get his glasses replaced and sang a George Jones song with another man, who was recovering from a stroke. Richmond, a musician and former music teacher, also had the unique opportunity to bond with one particularly memorable individual, a musician who had lost his violin in the flood. She shares more about her heartwarming experience here.
What did you get out of the experience of volunteering?
I got to know a lot of really amazing people I would never have met otherwise, both patients and staff. I developed a real appreciation for disaster response management and organization and the people who run things on the ground. I don't think they sleep.
I got to practice a lot of the skills that were still pretty new to me as a student. I had already passed practical exams on bed mobility, wheelchair management, transfers (helping someone shift safely from sitting to standing or bed to wheelchair to toilet, etc.).
I had learned how to check pulse and oxygen levels. But I assisted with more of these skills - especially mobility - in one day of working at the shelter than I had in my whole time in the OTA program. It was great practice, and all of the folks I worked with were extremely grateful and gracious to me.
Volunteering was also really helpful to my mental health. I am not a sit-still kind of person, and I enjoyed being a worker bee doing a wide variety of tasks, many of them physically demanding, for long hours. It wouldn't have been feasible to work at that pace long-term, but it was great in the immediate aftermath.
There wasn't much I could do at home. If I hadn't been able to work at the shelter, I probably would have grabbed a shovel and headed to the River Arts District.
How did this experience play into your goals for your own career, if at all?
I don't quite know the answer to this yet. My career goals are not very specific: I hope to obtain some kind of regular employment in the Asheville area that interests and challenges me and pays a living wage. OTAs work in many settings, and all of my fieldwork experiences so far have been interesting and challenging.
Working at the medical needs shelter was kind of like a bonus fieldwork experience. Perhaps one day, I'll find myself working in a team with one of the doctors, nurses, or therapists that I worked alongside at the shelter. I can definitely say that the people I met and the experiences I gained will stay with me and influence my work as an OTA going forward.
Do you have a personal story of someone you helped that was particularly meaningful?
We had a fellow [a musician] who had somehow managed to walk to the shelter in spite of some pretty profound physical disabilities. I think he was probably unhoused before Helene. He was very upset that his prized violin had been damaged beyond repair.
A few days later, he heard that a good friend of his had died of medical complications. He was despondent, depressed, and resistant to receiving any assistance with self-care.
As a fellow musician and long-time music teacher in the area, I hoped I might be able to help him find a new instrument through my community of music-making and music-loving friends. I posted a photo and brief synopsis of the broken violin story on social media.
Within a day, a friend texted me directly to offer a violin that they were no longer using. I was able to drive out to their home to pick up the new instrument - which was in excellent condition - and surprise our patient with it the next day.
His response was really memorable. He had previously refused to leave his bed to get cleaned up. [When I gave him the violin] he was surprised and really emotional. Instead of tuning [the violin to play], his entire demeanor changed. He demanded to get up. He needed a lot of assistance, but he no longer needed any additional motivation!
He found a suit jacket and nice pants among the donated clothes, got totally cleaned up, dressed up, combed his hair, and managed every detail of his appearance.
He sat in his wheelchair, and only then would he take up the violin, tune it, tighten, and rosin the bow. He presented a short formal concert for the nurses and staff, who stood transfixed. His music was fine, though he was a bit rusty from his physical disability and lack of practice. What was truly touching was the transformation of this man from a sick, depressed, hopeless, unkempt "patient" into a polished performer, a man with a purpose.
If you ignored the fact that his chair had wheels, you could forget that he had ever been unhoused or needed assistance to get out of bed. He held the violin and bow with an assurance of long practice and intimacy with the instrument, the technique, and the melodies he played. It was unforgettable.
Scroll down to see photos of the medical shelter and of the musician with the violin, who requested that his identity be withheld.
