Navigating the long road to recovery after recent hurricanes
As with hemophilia, the healing process is often the hardest
In my Oct. 4 column, I reflected on the devastation Hurricane Helene had inflicted on my community in Punta Gorda, Florida. I never imagined that just weeks later, I’d be writing about a second hurricane — Milton — that would prove even more destructive to my town than Helene.
From Oct. 4-6, I attended the National Conference for Women and Teens with hemophilia and rare factor deficiencies, organized by the Hemophilia Foundation of Michigan (HFM) and held both in Detroit and online. Leaving my community was tough, as the lingering effects of Helene weighed heavily on my heart. But the conference was exactly what everyone promised it would be: powerful, inspiring, and full of connection.
I reconnected with Shari Luckey, whom I first met at the Hemophilia Federation of America’s Mild Matters Summit. Our shared experience of living with hemophilia B created an instant bond, and I continue to be in awe of her. Shari, HFM’s education and program services director, flawlessly led the event, and I couldn’t be prouder of her work.
The sessions were invaluable, covering critical topics such as “Self-Advocacy in the Emergency Department” and “Understanding Factor Levels and Bleeding in Hemophilia Genotype Positive Females.” We were privileged to learn from rock-star presenters like Jill Johnsen, MD, from the University of Washington’s Washington Center for Bleeding Disorders, and Lynn Malec, MD, associate director of the Comprehensive Center for Bleeding Disorders at Versiti Blood Center of Wisconsin and associate professor at the Medical College of Wisconsin.
Milton
While I was deeply engaged in the conference, part of me was constantly checking weather updates, as a new storm, Hurricane Milton, was brewing. By the final day of the event, I was already questioning my decision to return home.
Sure enough, shortly after I arrived in Florida, a mandatory evacuation order was issued for Zone A of Punta Gorda, where I live. The sheriff of my county even appeared on the news, delivering a chilling message: If residents of Zone A didn’t evacuate, there’d be a good chance they’d die. He went so far as to suggest that those staying behind should write their name and date of birth on their arm — a stark reminder of the potential danger.
Naturally, this sent my family and friends into a panic, urging me to leave immediately. But living on the fourth floor of a sturdy condo, I didn’t feel that evacuation was the best option for me. Evacuating comes with its own set of challenges. Finding gas becomes nearly impossible in such situations, roads can be impassable on the return, and you often end up staying away from home longer than expected. My hemophilia medications require refrigeration and are not easy to travel with, adding another layer of complexity. On top of that, the anxiety of wondering what kind of damage your home may have sustained can be overwhelming.
My hometown was devastated yet again. Businesses and residents, who had just begun repairs from Hurricane Helene, were faced with another wave of destruction, this time flooded by mucky, foul-smelling water. My car, which survived Helene, didn’t make it through Milton.
The road to recovery
What makes these storms so difficult isn’t the storm itself; it’s the aftermath, the grueling recovery that follows. My electricity was down for nearly a week, and devastation surrounds me. I often liken this to undergoing surgery when you have hemophilia or a bleeding disorder. The surgery isn’t always the hardest part; it’s the slow, painstaking healing process afterward that really tests your resilience.
In moments like these, the importance of support cannot be overstated. Just as patients with bleeding disorders rely on medical teams, family, and community support during recovery, hurricane survivors lean on our neighbors, local organizations, and volunteers to help us rebuild after a storm. Whether it’s a hot meal, a place to charge devices, or just a comforting conversation, the network of support after a disaster is what helps people move forward when they feel stuck in the slow recovery process.
Milton and Helene are over, but the recovery will take years.
Note: Hemophilia News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Hemophilia News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to hemophilia.
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