Name: Juan Valdez Simpson
Nickname: “Dez”
Age: 10
Race: Undetermined
Chief Complaint: “My leg hurts”




History of Present Illness:
Scraped left knee sliding into second base on Tuesday.

“Yer Out!”
Cleaned with peroxide at home.

“Where’s my momma?”


Outer bands felt Thursday morning. Windgusts and a hard rain (landfall) by evening.

Already on our way out, up (North), away…
Traffic not moving. Standstill.




Got out and starting walking up the interstate.

Like everyone else.
Dark. Wet. Bugs. Smells.



Moms carrying cryin’ babies.

“Hey mister, what did you say?”
Don’t talk to my momma that way.
Don’t look at my momma that way.


“Where’s my momma?”



Past Medical History:
“My asthma’s bad”
Meds: “Puffer”
Allergies: Mold, cockroaches (but isn’t everybody?)

Family History:
Mom alive and well, pregnant “but you can’t tell yet”
Dad — “My mom says he’s a good-for-noth…”)
Dad — out of picture…

Social history:
Fifth grade, likes math. And baseball and bikes.
“No, I don’t smoke, I’m only 10!”

Vitals: Temp 101.4
Exam: “Oww, that really, really hurts!”


No sleep when the flood came.
Washed away.
Scared. Alone. “My leg hurts.”


Grab at something, anything, to pull me up, higher, drier.
Wet, sad.

Wonder if Billy got out. And Raul. Natalie and Taneshia, too.
Fifth grade, you know.
“I feel cold.”



Plan: “Xray over here
CBC, thick smear”
IV pain meds
“Feeling better now, Dez?”


“Not going back.
I seen the news. Nothing left.
No one…”



Juan Valdez “Dez” Simpson
Age 10.

Cellulitis of left leg s/p mild trauma.
Can’t find his mother.

Climate refuge.




(Google Images)