None of this, apparently, was going to stop Simpson from leading Appalachian Mountain Community Health Centers in an exhaustive response effort. Or from working to procure not just medicines and supplies for her clinicians, but food boxes for employees in danger of going without. She’d secured therapy for providers returning from the devastation they’d seen in the road, and emergency funding to pay staff salaries after Helene strained budgets and cost nonprofit health providers revenue.
But when Simpson spoke with Direct Relief on Friday morning, she was determined and even cheerful — although she admitted she needed to find some time to look for housing. She’d spent some in-person time with her team that morning, “getting to see their faces” instead of communicating through messaging. The health center had arranged a partnership with local pharmacies, so that medications for new and existing patients would be covered in coming weeks. Although her staff had started out the week with one open clinic and a mobile van, they’d been able to add working sites and expand their hours day by day.
“If we don’t stand up, people go without,” she said. “It’s situations like this that show the true strength of federally qualified health centers.”
“Wherever there is need”
The scale of Hurricane Helene’s impact is only beginning to emerge, but the region’s community health centers were preparing long before the storm hit. They’ve gathered the medications and supplies experience has taught them will be needed, such as through Direct Relief’s Hurricane Preparedness Program. Vulnerable patients have been connected with medication and services. Clinics and mobile medical units have been prepped for response efforts.
Health center leaders describe staff members showing up for work immediately after Helene had passed — even though staff are overwhelmingly locals themselves, and flooded houses, missing or sick relatives, and food shortages were affecting them as well.
Providers at Cherokee Health Systems, a community health center in eastern Tennessee, had spent the last few days moving from place to place to offer mobile clinic services, following guidance they’d received from local officials. In one unincorporated community, they found 200 older people who’d been unable to evacuate and who’d been essentially “locked in” by impassable roads, said Cherokee CEO Dr. Parinda Khatri.
“They are going wherever there is need,” she said.
