A decade living in the Bahamas and weathering tropical depressions still didn't prepare Lisa Hooper, RN, for the ferocity of Hurricane Charley. The 2003 Emory University nursing graduate and cardiac care nurse rode out the storm with her patients at Charlotte County Medical Center in Punta Gorda, Fla.

During the height of the storm, Hooper saw air-conditioning units ripped off buildings, heard the hospital's first-floor windows blow out and watched as a home across the street was destroyed.

"I wasn't on shift that day; I was supposed to work that Friday night, but I had a class [at the hospital] on Thursday and I went by my floor," the Atlanta native said.

She checked in with her floor manager; the hospital had invited patients' families, employees' families and friends - and even pets - to stay in the facility during the storm.

Meteorologists had forecast a landfall near Tampa, and hospitals within a 100-mile radius, like Charlotte Medical, were preparing for storm casualties.

Hooper, who lives less than three miles from the hospital, went home to storm-proof her condo, gathered important papers and medical instruments, and brought her inflatable mattress to the hospital.

She would never use it.

In short order, the storm jumped from a Category 2 to a Category 3 storm, missed its predicted landfall and gathered more power. Now a Category 4 storm, the hurricane headed toward Fort Myers. Punta Gorda was directly in the storm's path.

"I got to the hospital and parked my truck as far away from the trees as possible," Hooper said. "There's no parking deck - in fact, there's no building in town that's over three stories."

At this point, Hooper said, hospital officials knew they were in for a wild ride. Patients were all moved to the fourth floor. Mattresses were pushed against windows and equipment was moved to the center of the rooms.

Punta Gorda was the hardest-hit Gulf Coast town in Charley's path.

"At one point, I peeked out of the window to take pictures," Hooper said. "I saw the air-conditioning units torn away from the building, and political signs were flying everywhere."

Then the first-floor windows blew out.

By now, the power was out in the patients' rooms, and the staff was examining patients by flashlight. A small generator provided some emergency backup power.

Patients were pulled into the hallway; the doors were closed and towels and blankets were packed underneath them to keep water from coming in.

"We could hear the floor shake below us," Hooper said.

The force of the hurricane hit one side of the hospital; and more than 100 people held a collective breath as the storm passed over and hit the other side of the hospital.

"A technician, who lived across the street from the hospital, started crying. She saw her house just go - everything was gone except one wall," Hooper said.

When the storm had subsided, it was still daylight, and the staff surveyed the damage. The hospital was missing part of its roof, there was water damage and windows were blown out. A tree blocked the emergency department entrance.

But the staff at Charlotte County Medical Center didn't stop treating patients.

"The first victim I saw come in couldn't get up the driveway," Hooper said. "It was a gentleman who was in a pickup truck. He had a compound fracture below the knee . . . and we took care of him."

The ER was hobbled by water and storm damage, but employees set up a MASH unit in the cafeteria using emergency power.

Then Hooper saw something she will never forget. "There was a convoy of ambulances coming down the avenue. I saw ambulances from Miami, Tampa General and Sarasota." The ambulances transported the hospital's patients to those facilities.

It had been 19 hours since Hooper parked her truck in the hospital parking lot, but still she wasn't tired. "The adrenaline rush was unbelievable. I didn't sleep until 5 p.m. that day," she said.

When Hooper went home, she found that the roof of her condo had been torn off and that water damage had left her home unlivable. She is living with friends and relatives in Tampa until her home is repaired.

"But I was fortunate," she said.

More than a third of the hospital's employees either completely lost their homes or had nothing left worth salvaging.

"They called it Ground Zero for a reason," Hooper said. "The beautiful downtown is gone."

Employees will receive 30 days' pay while the hospital is being repaired.