Wednesday, September 21, 2005 - September 16, 2005, Doubletree Hotel, Somerset, NJ
On September 16, 1999, exactly 6 years ago today, Hurricane Floyd barreled up the coast of New Jersey, pouring 19 inches of rain that breached the dyke protecting the campus of Zarephath. The little building at 8 Liberty Square was covered with 15 feet of water. Many of us here remember the sense of despair and can truly identify with the loss that people are experiencing in Louisiana and Mississippi right now in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
This building held memories; it began as a garage and was converted into a home that over the years housed some of the people sitting here in this audience. But when the waters receded, the building was left full of soggy sheetrock and rotted floorboards. The campus of Zarephath had other priorities and the little building on the edge of the campus was left empty for 18 months.
For several years, my husband, John, and I had had a dream to find a place to provide low cost health care to those without insurance, and we shared our dreams with others. We had seen the great disadvantages to poor people getting health care from the government, as it always seemed that the bureaucracy was paid first, and the payments to the caregivers would not cover our expenses. We have a private practice in Piscataway, and realized that if we cared for many people with Medicaid, the payments to us would be so low that we would not be able to pay our rent or pay our staff, and we would soon go under.
Yet we had taken the Hippocratic Oath when we became physicians where we had promised to care for people regardless of their financial state. How could we do this? We knew that the story of the Good Samaritan in the Bible somehow had to fit into whatever we chose to do, for Jesus meant for all of us to apply it. The answer was to band together as a group of volunteers and donate several hours per week or month. This way we could care for the poor without jeopardizing our own livelihood, and without dependence on the government with all its rules, restrictions and paltry pay scale. We had read and studied Marvin Olasky's The Tragedy of American Compassion, and decided to use the principles outlined, the ABC's of compassion, in our approach to caring for the poor. Those principles are summarized in the brochure we have prepared.
We needed a place to work, and the leadership of the Pillar of Fire decided to take the risk and allow us to take over the condemned building. Many volunteers got to work, and the building was entirely gutted. The sturdy brick walls and roof had survived the flood, but new plumbing and electricity needed to be installed, and a new cement floor was poured. Plans were drawn up and a beautiful new medical facility took shape.
Finally, by September of 2003, exactly four years after the flood, the building was ready to open. It was debt free, with a base operating expense of about $500. per month. We were ready to begin.
With an all volunteer staff and no ready made patient base, we began operating two half-days per week, and one evening. John, a family practitioner, is there on Thursdays, and I, an internist, come every Monday. We work together on Wednesdays. We now have two new physician volunteers, Dr. Chris Sedlacek and Dr. Ava Stanley, so we are preparing to expand the hours. We have obtained free medical malpractice coverage from the federal government under the Federal Tort Claims Act of 1996, as we are recognized as useful members of the Public Health system.
We ask people to make appointments, but more than half of the people just show up. So we never know who is going to be there. That's OK. We prayerfully make ourselves available during the hours we are there, and consider the encounters to be divine appointments. The operating hours have become full of patients and volunteers--each with a story that can sometimes tear at your heart. Young mothers barely able to scrape by, older people unable to pay the $5 co-pay on their PAAD prescriptions, recent college grads with a lot of debt, no job and no insurance, no money. I can honestly say that I never come away feeling that I have not done something truly significant in the lives I have touched. And the volunteers feel the same way.
Let me give you an idea of how a typical two hour session goes on a Wednesday evening. When John and I arrive at exactly 7 PM, every seat is usually full in the waiting room.
Children are often playing on the rug on the floor, some putting together a puzzle, others stacking blocks. Patients and volunteers have big smiles for us, and we get to work right away. Missy the nurse efficiently takes one of our regular patients into one of the two exam rooms, while Susan or Nicole brings a new patient into a private room to get his or her story. These non-medical volunteers help the patients fill out forms, designed to give useful information, but also to get the patient feeling comfortable that we are interested in them as people, not just patients. These volunteers take a medical, social and financial history and determine what brings them to this free clinic. Some have lost their jobs, others have jobs without benefits. Some care for sick relatives, a thankless job with no pay or benefits. By the time one clerical volunteer and one nurse volunteer has seen the patient, he has a sense that he is very significant. Then the doctor comes to review the information and find out exactly what the patient needs. We might run a urine test, we might run an EKG, we might draw blood, but we find that the history tells us the most. Some of the illnesses are quite easy for us to treat with a simple antibiotic or blood pressure medicine. But others run deep, and are rooted in a deep depression and hurt that has taken years to develop.
Just this month I saw a young college student who had undergone an abortion 15 months earlier. She had gotten very ill and weak, and lost a lot of blood over the next year, and causing her to miss a whole semester of classes. Her parents know nothing of the abortion and her boyfriend was long gone. She had gone to the campus student health facility and was told to go back to the abortion clinic. She refused to go back, as it filled her with too much pain. This beautiful girl was frightened and alone and I felt privileged to be trusted by her. I am helping her physically and hope to help her emotionally and spiritually as well. I told her that we really care about her and wanted to help her through this, called and arranged for an ultrasound and gave her a little booklet that she could read when she was ready. I will see her again in two weeks. Having studied the Saline Solution course by Dr. Walt Larimore, we have learned that we must not be too strong or two weak, but just right in our gentle approach to meeting a patient where she is.
Back to our busy Wednesday night--we see patients who need medicine but have absolutely no way to pay for it. We have a pharmacy filled with samples left in our other office by pharmaceutical reps who want to help us out. So we hand these out. We also have purchased some medicines in bulk that we can give out without charge. If we identify one medicine that a person needs but cannot afford, one of the volunteers helps that patient fill out a meticulous form specific for that drug company. Sometimes a phone call needs to be made, or a fax sent, but the patient can often get a three month supply for free, mailed directly to us at the Health Center. Another volunteer sits at the front desk with the phone, making future appointments, and greeting patients as they come and go. Susan makes sure there are lollipops at the front desk, a special treat for anyone without a special diet. We have a box for donations, and most patients deposit $20 for the visit and give us a big "thank you" or "gracias", and leave feeling uplifted and blessed.
I have to tell you one story that stands out in my mind. Marvin Olasky tells us that our charity needs to be effective, challenging and diverse. This last category means that we cannot develop a one-size fits all approach, but need to treat each individual as unique, with their own unique set of problems. One day in November, Doug Rooney, one of our more creative volunteers, got a frantic phone call from a patient who seemed to be at her wit's end. She had recently gotten out of the hospital after suffering a heart attack, but was told that she could not go back to the cardiologist unless she paid her bill. She had no insurance and no job, and needed medicine so called around to some town agencies. She told them she needed medicine, but didn't have a doctor who would see her to write the prescriptions. One agency gave her our phone number. Doug gave the phone to me, and I told her to come right over. She said she had no car. Doug offered to pick her up, and she said OK. Now that was trust! Getting into the Mercedes Benz of a complete stranger--- but here, I will let her tell you the rest of the story.
( Patient gets up and relates her positive experience with ZHC. She is now a volunteer. )
So there you have it. Most of our patients are with us short term. Once they are back on their feet, their finances change and they don't need us anymore.
We are not taking care of the masses, but one individual at a time. And if we can help them along, convince them that someone out there cares, encourage them to get back on their feet again, we will have made a lasting difference.
So that is what we do at the Zarephath Health Center--with more volunteer physicians nurses and support staff, we could expand our hours and our effectiveness.
But now we turn to a different topic, one that has been on our minds for many years, but one that might be new to you. We have discovered that the uninsured have a difficult time when they need to go to the hospital. Recently, one patient had prostate surgery, and received a bill for $28,000. We learned that Medicare had set their price at $3,200 and that BC/BS had contracted to pay $4,500. We were able to talk to the hospital president and the bill was negotiated down to $4000. Why do they charge so much to the insured? Aren't these the people who have the least ability to pay? But what do people do who have no such allies?
We think we have part of the solution. Antigua. But, to set the stage, we will begin by showing a video of a recent 60 minutes broadcast.