Skip to main content

There's a self-appointed saint in constant hover around the soccer stadium that has grown into one of the most packed tent cities here.

Her name is Franz Remy and she came pushing a wheelchair the day after the earthquake squashed her home and rendered the hospital where she's worked for the past 18 years inoperable.

Newly homeless and unsure of what else to do, Ms. Remy, a 50-year-old surgical nurse, scavenged together some medical supplies and piled them onto the wheelchair. Grabbing its dusty handles, she steered it down the pocked road, turned into the stadium and annexed a spacious corner.

Shortly after, her makeshift emergency clinic was born.

"I was just making do with the stuff we had," Ms. Remy explains.

With her country in ruins and her future uncertain because of the Jan. 12 quake, helping people just seemed like the most logical thing to do. But each day the lines grew longer as word of her clinic spread, and she began to feel overwhelmed.

"When I saw it was too much, I asked other people to join me," she says with a shrug.

She now has a team of medical and nursing students as back-ups, and over the weekend, a small contingent of doctors from New York took over the day shift. Ms. Remy sleeps beside the clinic, though, in a room made out of blue surgical sheets, in case any one should need medical attention in the night.

"At night, if patients need us, they can come," she says nodding, and looking tired.

With the tent city growing by day and foreign medical aid workers ramping down the projects in nearby camps, demand will only swell. Her dedication has won her the admiration of a Canadian Medical Assistance Team working nearby, which supplies her with their surplus medication.

Still, the logistical challenges Ms. Remy's clinic faces will grow: There are no X-rays and sterilization capabilities are limited. And the endless lineup means none of the clinic volunteers can line up for food aid during the day. In devoting themselves to helping others, many are going hungry, Ms. Remy says.

"They're starting to ask for some financial assistance. They have the same situation as the other people outside," she explains.

As she said this, a team of Canadian doctors from a nearby camp gave each other a knowing look and a nod before walking back to their camp.

Chances are high that Ms. Remy and her staff will have their bellies full of Canadian rations tonight.

Follow related authors and topics

Authors and topics you follow will be added to your personal news feed in Following.

Interact with The Globe