Disaster exercise brings out the "VICTIM" in me?

A funny thing happened on the way to today: Yesterday, I was a movie-extra … Well, not exactly in a movie, but a filmed presentation … a series of digital stills that will likely be overlaid to create the illusion of a larger group of participants and … but that's not really important here …

The interesting part of it, if there was one, was that I got a chance to hang out with a lot of young college students and nurses (in and out of uniform) -- most of whom (including me) had been dressed in pastel clothes bought from Goodwill, made up with splotches of red, sugar-based "dust" and various black smudgings, and made to look like "disaster victims" for the making of a training exercise for nurses and other healthcare practitioners.

The purpose of all of this was to simulate the results of a Weapons of Mass Destruction terrorist bombing (with a "dirty bomb") in a major city mall and office complex. I have to admit, I have no idea who was sponsoring this, although I understand it is not the first time they have done this exercise. I presume it was some sort of Vanderbilt Medical Center exercise, since the whole shoot took place in one of their parking lots. All I really know is I spent about an hour picking out and trying on clothes, being made up, getting those clothes torn and "bloodied" in places with corn syrup and red food coloring, and then waiting around for further instructions.

I had originally been led to believe the shoot would require those of us playing the "victims" only to "play dead" and lie still; I found out differently once we finally got started. Instead of a set scene, the camera work mainly involved shooting stills of one group of ten at a time, and then more being added as the time progressed, staggering and limping across the parking lot, as though we were both severely injured and somehow forgetful of where we had parked our respective cars. (For me, this required a little "method acting" since I not only had not driven to the site, but had not owned a vehicle for the past two years and more, and had hardly even driven a rental during the interim. But I digress…) The lone photographer was shooting all of this, at long range and then very close up, as we approached and passed him by, nearly walking on him in some cases as he sprawled among the rushing mob.

We repeated takes, at least on the initial approach, at least a half-dozen times. Then the second group of ten joined us, and we did it all over again, with the groups moving forward in slightly different directions. Finally the third group was called over, and all three clumps went through their paces. (By now, several of the young women from my group, the initial one, were experimenting with different motivations, and one had even managed to fall down in a heap in the middle of the pavement, at least once during each pass. Nothing like a bunch of nursing students with delusions of Broadway …)

Then the whole group gathered at an intermediate point and proceeded to stumble slowly forward, only a few steps this time, as a half-dozen (maybe fewer) actual nurses (well, at least they were dressed that way) merged on the throng, each well armed with gauze pad and stethoscope, and began to simulate some impression of "first aid" (No, not triage; that would have required much more attention to detail: My decrepit looking carcass, for example, complete with what appeared to be either severe sharapnel hits or actual bullet-holes in my shoulder, stomach and right knee, passed by without the least bit of nursing notice on each of at least a dozen takes from this position.). A couple of the self-styled wits in the crowd cried out, "Oh don't worry. I have GAUZE!"

And then there was suddenly the call of "one more take and we are done" and then it was over with. We walked (normally this time) back to the trailer, wiped the schmootz off our faces, necks and shoulders, changed one at a time in the little bathroom stall, and headed home, after being rewarded with a gift certificate to a "local" mall. (In my case, still having no vehicle, I'm not sure what to do with it. That local mall is about 30 miles away!)

As I said before, I really don't know who was behind all of this, and have not had occasion to find out, so I haven't. I didn't even know I was going to try to write about this until It did seem rather strange, to be going through all of this just for some still photos and a simulation first-contact with the healthcare folks, but what do I know? Maybe this kind of visual imagery provokes more frank discussion about how a health practitioner, faced with a potential catastrophe like this, is supposed to behave and perform, within a pain-wracked cluster of people in need. What do I know?

All I do know is, I got some sunshine, fresh air and exercise; some time away from this screen, chair and keyboard … and a gift certificate I might yet find a use for.