My Corner of America

One morning at work one of the nurses came up to me.

Starting soon, she said, the nurses would be required to care for five patients instead of four.  They would also be receiving stroke patients who require more care.  And, their “rescue nurse”, who was available to help when things got busy, would be taken away.

I stared at her.

Everyone knows that healthcare in America is in turmoil–or perhaps simply America is in turmoil–but today it was suddenly personal to me.

I’ve worked the floor, both on that floor and in a rehab center.  I know what it’s like to be helping one patient, knowing that another patient is waiting for pain medicine, or finding out that another patient has fallen.  I know what it’s like to try to be present while one patient is dying, without forgetting that you have two or three other patients who also need to be monitored.

So now they would be asked to work harder, with more difficult patients, with less help. 

“I’m just flabbergasted,” I told one of our surgeons later as we stood in the cafeteria waiting for our fantastic chef to fry some eggs. “How can we say, ‘We don’t have enough money, so let’s stop taking care of the patients?’ ”

He quietly corrected my exaggeration.

“It’s not that we’re not going to quit taking care of the patients,” he said.  “It’s a different level of care. At least now nurses have a place to work.  If we operate with no money, soon there will be no hospital at all.  Some people are making predictions that a big percentage of small hospitals will have to close.”

“But we just built an expensive addition!” I said.  “Why did no one think of this then?”

“It’s happening all over the country,” he said.  “All of IU hospitals have switched to higher patient loads for the nurses.  It’s because Medicare is reimbursing less, and at the same time hospitals are being forced to care for people who can’t pay at all.  If someone shows up in the ER with no insurance and no ability to pay, they might rack up a $500,000 bill.  The hospital has to eat it.  Before, the hospitals operated on a bigger profit margin and they could absorb the loss. But not anymore.

“Besides,” he added, referencing my comment about the expensive new addition, “one reason people give good reviews–which brings in more Medicare money– is for hospitals that have brand-new facilities.  That costs a lot more than our addition.”

“It just seems that there has to be a better place to cut,” I said.  “I don’t see anything good coming out of that.”

“There’s nothing good about it,” he agreed.

So I stewed, and daydreamed about a “Save our Small Hospitals!” campaign to somehow wrench the healthcare craft out of its nose dive.  Between the predicament of healthcare and a strangely gloomy election year, I thought, perhaps America is seconds from crashing.  Perhaps our greatest fears are about to be realized.  Perhaps we are about to become the next Syria.

And if so, then what?  Will it help for me to whine and complain until then? Will it help for me to try to “figure out” what multiple smarter people than I are already doing their best to solve?  Will it help for me to focus on the inconsistencies, laughable candidates, gloomy news reports?  Will it help for me to bitter toward the poor people with an entitlement mentality (my neighbor most likely helping herself to the box of goodies from my sister), or the rich people with an entitlement mentality (the insurance company who does everything they can to avoid paying for my mammogram)?

Hmmm.

Probably not.

And so, on the eve of this election, on the eve of this “re-staffing” of nurses across the state, in the wake of another phone altercation with the insurance company and the missing box off my porch, let me share what I love about Elkhart, about Elkhart General, about America, about life.

Perhaps these things will soon be gone.  Well?  All the more reason to embrace them now.

1.)  I love Elkhart. I love the trash man who came this morning and took my trash away, just like that.  I love that I can walk to the hospital, the post office, the grocery store, my friends on Laurel Street, and any number of places for breakfast.  I love that we don’t have water restrictions here and I can water my new trees as much as I want.

2.) I love Elkhart General. I love that I know more people at Elkhart General who truly care for the patients than I ever thought could be possible.  Almost everyone, really, from housekeepers to transporters to nurses to nurses’ aides to food delivery people to–contrary to popular opinion–doctors and surgeons.  Even–and this is REALLY contrary to popular opinion–orthopedic surgeons.  The other night we called one in on a Friday night. He had been hosting a party with about 30 friends in his house, but he came in and did what needed to be done with flexibility and compassion, two traits that orthopedic surgeons are rumored to lack. Check with my friend Rosie if you haven’t heard any stories about orthopedic surgeons. 

3.)  I love my electric fireplace, and the fact that my electricity is dependable.  Even during storms, here in perhaps the darkest part of Elkhart, I don’t think my electricity has ever gone out beyond a blink.  Check with my cousin Sara in Ghana if you don’t think this is a blessing.

4.) I love the Baker’s Nook.  If you haven’t tried their pancakes you are MISSING OUT.

5.) I love that the hospital gives us a $15 Martin’s gift card for the holidays.  It’s not much, but I’m still really grateful for it. It came with a nice letter thanking each employee for their hard work.

6.) I love Martin’s.  Today I went to the less-than-ritzy Jackson Street branch, looking for boneless, skinless chicken thighs and I asked the meat man which ones I should get.  He suggested that it might be cheapest to get the bone-in, skin-on, and he would just take the bones and skin off for me for free, which he did.  He then put the bones and skin in their own separate packages…in case I wanted to make soup with them. Ha! I also went to buy crusty rolls, just because they’re so delicious, and the crusty roll bins were completely empty.  I asked about this, and who should be walking up just at that second, but the baker with her cart full of trays of warm, crusty rolls.  And I think of a Syrian refugee telling us about Syria… that when her sister offered her money she replied in frustration, “It’s not about money!  There is nothing to buy!”

7.) I love Elkhart General. I love that guy at the grill in the cafeteria who does such a good job making breakfast food.  The other day when I was whining in the cafeteria, we were a few minutes past grill closing time, and he still cooked us fresh breakfast.

8.) I love my primary care office. I love that the Waterford Street Clinic staff spent a great deal of their time today trying to see why my insurance company isn’t covering my mammograms.  All this, despite the fact that they mostly work with private pay.

9.) I love America. I love that Americans still play baseball (!) and that usually no one gets shot over election time.  I love that the balances and checks system of government prevents any one person from running everything.  I love that I’m free to write a blog, free to go to church, free to live out my beliefs, free to go to any other country in the world on the merits of my American passport.  I love that in America we are taught to speak one of the most difficult languages in the world.

10.) I love Elkhart. I love the absolutely stunning colors of fall all over town.  In fact, from my front porch there is a yellow tree, an orange tree, a red tree, and a green tree.

11.) I love America. I love that my grandma’s valve problem has come to a head at a time when she can get it fixed through a catheter, and that Medicare in fact does still pay for this.  I love that when she goes to the hospital on Monday for the procedure, she will go to the beautiful new addition, and be taken care of by two of the most talented and compassionate doctors I know, with a procedure developed by the brightest minds and best technology in the world.

This also is what it means to live in America. Perhaps we whine most who  are most accustomed to luxury. 

If in doubt, buy my new book,  Voices of Syria.  

12.) I love God and the church. I love that no matter what happens, it will not fall outside of the realm of God’s sovereignty.  If I can learn to trust Him in every today, then I can learn to trust Him in any tomorrow.  I am secure, not because I am American, but because I believe that God meant what he said in His Word (“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away”-Luke 21:33), and because, although I am prone to error and mistake, He is not.  Though I stumble and forget, I have found Him faithful. Though I am swayed by emotions and circumstances, I have fellow Christians with whom I can exchange counsel and cheer. 

This is what it means to live in the kingdom of God. (If in doubt, buy my new… just kidding.  Although it does showcase some radiant Christians!)  It also means I am part of the pool of people who should laugh most often, smile most sincerely, and face the future with the least fear.

Happy week, everyone.