The New Year’s fire in Volendam is still deeply etched in the memory of plastic surgeon Paul van Zuijlen. Rows of burn patients made the Beverwijk Red Cross Hospital (RKZ) the epicenter of the disaster. “It was extremely intense, but it made me stronger as a doctor.”
During the New Year’s fire, Paul worked as a trainee doctor in the plastic surgery department. He is now a plastic surgeon in the burns department and director of the burns center.
Text continues below the photo.
Paul can still remember the fateful night. It is a cold winter night when the then 31-year-old trainee doctor receives an urgent call in the middle of the night. He is then in Limburg and enjoying a festive New Year’s Eve with friends. After that bell, his mood changes instantly.
“There’s a big one fire in Volendam and whether I wanted to come,” said a colleague. “He had no more information at that time.”
Wide awake and stiff with adrenaline, he immediately feels: I have to go there. Via Teletext he sees the number of victims rising rapidly, but he is hours away from Beverwijk.
Rows of burn victims
The weather is bad. Foggy, when he gets into the car the next morning. Not knowing what awaits him later.
While the burn center normally only has four intensive care (IC) beds, a large part of the hospital is now used to accommodate victims. “There were rows of burn victims. The burns ICU was full, as was the regular ICU and the surgery department had been transformed into a medium care unit for them, a slightly less intense care than the ICU,” he says.
The image he paints is at odds with the atmosphere he experienced. It was calm, he remembers. “There had been chaos in the evening. Now it felt like the calm before the storm, because more victims would come in. But there was a kind of general adrenaline, a group feeling of: we are going to do this. That was very nice.”
Clapping for the hospital
Not just the days after. For months the focus was on the Volendam disaster. “I think we ran a full operating theater program (operating room, -ed.) every day for three months. That was very intense, but also special. I learned a lot from it,” he reflects.
After the adrenaline rush, the hospital was hit hard. “Many people dropped out with burnout complaints. Doctors, but especially many in nursing. They of course also have more personal contact with patients.” Paul suspects that this arose from a feeling of powerlessness.
He explains: “We were really in control. I thought very pragmatically: the damage has already been done, now we have to make them better. That sounds easier than it is. But if I sympathize too much, I can no longer help them.”
In the Netherlands he never experienced anything that even came close to that experience again. “It was really a disaster. I had seen this kind of injury before, but never on this scale. That was impressive.”
The event has shaped him as a doctor, he dares to say. “Six months ago I coordinated a disaster in a nightclub in North Macedonia for the Dutch burn centers. That happened remotely, but through the experience of the New Year’s fire you know what is needed. You always carry those lessons with you.”
Not only him personally, the hospital has also been changed by the disaster. “Since the Volendam disaster, we have been much better prepared for disasters. Nowadays also for wars, because of everything that is happening in Ukraine and Gaza. But it all started with Volendam. Then we realized: we have to be better prepared.”
Resilient fishing village
When asked whether he still has contact with patients, Paul laughs.
“Do you know what is striking? Victims of the Volendam disaster do not return. Coincidentally, I recently spoke to Marga for a double interview. She was one of the most affected patients, but I had not seen her for seventeen years.”
He praises the resilience of the fishing villagewhich despite everything has never faded away. On the contrary. “They really have a ‘don’t talk, just clean’ mentality. There were a lot of patients with facial paralysis, or people with craft professions who you would think would come back. But no, they really are like: this is me now.
“I love helping people, but I also love it when they approach it that way.”
Text continues under the photo.
Flip the bullshit switch
In practice, Paul sees that accepting the situation determines a person’s future life. “Those people are really happier. Marga too, who knows she looks different now. But she really has the bullshit button turns around and is happy to be alive. While I sometimes also have patients with minor burns who are very unhappy.”
Moreover, the community plays a major role, Paul explains. “Everyone supports each other. It is a collective trauma, and no one looks at you strangely if you walk there with burns. That is very different from when you are the only one.”
Just like for the victims, it remains an unforgettable experience for Paul. “Next week I plan to visit the exhibition.”