We used to call it the God Forbid Hospital. 130 beds, intensive care, dialysis. In two weeks the gravel-filled lower parking lot in the still unopened Gandel Rehabilitation Center at Hadassah Hospital Mount Scopus was transformed into an emergency hospital. Hadassah staff worked around the clock. They traveled to the beleaguered south of Israel to help construct the beds.
And we always said, God Forbid we should need it.
It's better to be prepared; better to be safe than sorry.
At 3:30 am on June 13, Hadassah staff transferred 90 patients of Hadassah Hospital Mount Scopus from their beds and operating tables to safety in the God Forbid Hospital, re-nicknamed the Thank God Hospital.
"The transfer was smooth and efficient," said the US-born Dr. Moshe Simons,* deputy head of Internal Medicine at Hadassah Mount Scopus. "You can tell that a lot of thought was put into this, even though we hoped the day wound not come when we would have to use this facility. The youngest patients are a few months old. They're at two separate ends of the room. The oldest patient is 97. We're running five different departments: internal medicine, orthopedics, rehabilitation, post- and pre- surgery, and pediatrics. Rehabilitation includes both physical and neurological rehabilitation. The psychologists from rehab have also joined the team.
"The challenge is to run all these departments in a single room, but everyone understands and does their best to speak quietly, work calmly and always preserve patient privacy," said Simons "We make as special effort to discharge patients quickly. The facilities are new and modern, but of course, patients would rather be in regular hospital wards where they have more solitude. Nonetheless we haven't had anyone who didn't understand the situation and who was not grateful for being in a safe space and getting professional and compassionate care.
"So far, we are working seamlessly. As always in our hospital, the staff and patients are a mix of ethnicities. We have Jewish, Muslim, Christian doctors and nurses — and the same in our patients."
Patient care continued without a pause Tuesday morning when emergency sirens warning of enemy missiles or drones sounded.
Said Simons, echoing the underground hospital's new nickname. "Thank God, we are able to continue our treatment in a such a secure environment. Safety is the name of the game."
Dr. Simons , 46, made aliyah from Monsey, New York. He is a father of seven and grandfather.
