The weekend was well spent in Boston, MA.  Even though it was foggy, rainy, and generally miserable here all weekend, we had time with a wonderful group of people representing Planetree at a conference with the Institute for Healthcare Improvement and the Institute for Family-Centered Care.  Nearly 100 professionals and patients were gathered here to discuss the United States healthcare system.  At my table of experts were some wonderful people from Washington, Texas, Arizona, New York and Boston.  The following is an e-mail that I received on Sunday.  I hope Dale doesn’t mind that I’ve included it. It truly says it all about the need for reform.

Dear Nick,

I am Justin’s Mom, who "happened" to be sitting next to you at the conference yesterday. I have experienced a rough 5 years of dealing with a system that, I thought, was meant to comfort and heal. I wanted to thank you for your much needed expressions of compassion. You did some healing yesterday that you may not be aware of.

I was very much impressed by the work that you’re doing, the lives that you’re saving and the example that you’re setting. I am proud of you! Having a forward thinking, multitasking CEO with compassion and sensitivity to lead, will make the difference. I truly believe some people will never get it and need to be replaced by those that do or this whole industry will make a thunderous fall. Having a mother beg for transparency following the unexplained death of her child while in a physician’s (hospitals) care is the highest form of inhumanity imaginable. Yet, the practice of silence is accepted and continues without even looking back at the personal affects of the tragedy. My goal is to say, NO MORE!

Your courage to take the reins and be in charge and lead your organization with a conviction for doing the right thing, fighting the good fight, has to work. When the not knowing became less important than the not caring, a friend from Walter Reed wrote: "We are truly social animals who need to know that someone cares. That is not a weakness; but, as a friend said, "A basic need like eating and breathing.” (I quoted him in my Powerpoint presentation for Yale med residents.)

Most Sincerely,

Dale Ann Micalizzi
Pediatric Patient Safety Advocate
Dale’s Blog at SignalHealth.come
micalizzidag@aol.com

PS Justin played the trumpet too 😉

When I was a kid, I was pressed into service for every fallen soldier’s funeral, every Memorial Day event and every parade. You see, I was the trumpet player who played TAPS, hundreds of times. Sometimes it was for a funeral for an elderly WWI vet. Sometimes for (at that time) a middle-aged WWII vet. The Korean vets were few and far between, but the most meaningful and difficult for me were the newly killed Vietnam vets because they were my brothers. Their birth dates were my birthdate. Their girlfriends were my girlfriends. Their families were my families. I stood by a tree or above the grave site, and many times trembled with my own tears echoing the tears of the loved ones being interred.

The two most difficult times were both lifetime memories. The first was November 24, 1963, alone, in the middle of my high school football game, in the middle of the field, I played solo taps for John F. Kennedy, our president, who at that time was my generation’s personal hero. The man who brought youth, excitement and challenge to our nation.

The second was atop a Bank Building in Indiana, PA where I stood in full uniform as a non-com in the Reserve Officers Training Corps, looking across a sea of 1,000 uniformed soldiers lined up on Philadelphia Avenue, knowing that many of them were waiting to be shipped out to Vietnam. Many of them were my friends, and many did not come home.

I do NOT miss playing TAPS, and wish that the world would stop producing the need for them.

Today I was suffering from not only the Holiday Blues (Christmas is OVER). . . but also from separation anxiety.  Thirteen and a half years ago, my daughter and I went to the SPCA and adopted a puppy.  He was a little, white, fluff ball that we fell in love with immediately.  She named him Brodie.

Brodie was probably our fifth dog, but he certainly has been the best.  Last year Brodie grew a tumor.  We had it removed, and then, a few months ago, he grew another one.  We knew that Brodie was finite because we’re all on the same train, but Brodie was very very special.   He was kind, sweet, disciplined, loving and CUTE.

Well, as mentioned in a previous web log, we had moved.  Clearly, after thirteen years of running freely through the fields of Carpenters Park, Brodie had a tough adjustment to the new neighborhood.  No one welcomed Brodie to the new neighborhood.  Anyway, after more than a decade of freedom, Brodie was a captive in his new house, a house that didn’t have either of his cat buddies as playmates or unlimited hills and fields where he could run and play.

Two weeks ago we had to go away for a few days, and my daughter offered to watch Brodie.  She had also offered to watch the two cats, cats that made me sneeze.  (She’s been watching them since we moved.)  Well, Brodie seemed THRILLED to be back with his cats, running free through the fields of Davidsville.  He seemed so happy at his old house with the kids and the cats that we decided to let him stay there. 

Then something happened.  It was four o’clock on Christmas Eve and Brodie disappeared.  Our kids searched for him.  I made two trips to search for him.  The kids made three more.  We began calling our old neighbors.  It grew dark, and, for the first time ever, Brodie didn’t come home. 

The night was LONG and tough on all of us.  The following morning the kids started again, and we made more phone calls.  One neighbor reported that she had seen Brodie yesterday, but not since then.  Our son-in-law tracked Brodie paw prints across two fields, through some yards, near a horse farm and into the woods.

Some of our old neighbors got into their cars and looked for Brodie, too. 

Then, a stop at the police station resulted in a call that ended with . . . BRODIE.  He had traveled nearly six miles, was soaking wet, and scared, but some wonderful woman and her daughter found him, wrapped him in a blanket and called police. 

So far, Brodie is doing fine. 

So, thanks for the best Christmas present. 

While driving back from Washington D.C. about a year ago, I received a phone call from work. It was from our Director of Public Relations.  She called and said, “Guess what happened today?”  My immediate, from the gut, response was, “Let me guess, the Virgin Mary appeared on the hospital.”  She paused then said, “Did someone already call you?” My response was a disclaimer.  Well, apparently, one of our patients was at the registration area in the middle of the connecting corridor when she looked out the window and exclaimed that there was something on the rise of the step.   She exclaimed, “Look, it’s Jesus!”  She said, “Look out there on the rise of the step, it’s the face of Jesus.”  When Gloria, our registration professional, looked outside, she responded with a knowing smile.

At first we were afraid that the hospital would be filled with pilgrims there to see the face of God.  Then, we were afraid that it wouldn’t be.  Well, it made the local TV news, and numerous people came by to look at the face in the cement, but it all died down in a very short amount of time.  Is it really some type of miracle?  Did it appear in the concrete to send a message?  Is it Jesus?  Mohammed?  Or is it just a collection of shadings on the concrete that appeared over time?  If you look closely, you’ll see the eyes, eyebrows, nose, and mouth. Our patient says that you can even see a crown of thorns.  Your call.  Just more fun.

As a child of the 60’s, it never seemed possible to me that today’s Blog topic would ever be flowing from my fingers onto this keyboard, but, life leads us in many directions, and four years ago my life was changed forever. I’ve always struggled with the formality and rigidity of organized religion. Having said this, however, I grew up as Beaver Cleaver. The perfect little altar boy in a family of four that demonstrated love and respect for each other at all times.

So, where is this going? Well, as a former music educator turned hospital administrator, it somehow seemed very strange to me that my fate would lead me to run a hospital and to found a research institute. The picture seemed somewhat strange, but, here it was with me in the center of the frame. When people began to gravitate to our facility, (e.g., physicians, scientists, patients), it always felt like there was a greater power at work, a larger orchestrator, conductor and/or choreographer behind the scenes.

The first five PhD’s that we recruited said that our little coal mining town in south central PA reminded them of Scotland, that they were coming here because of that. Others said that they had prayed and, in their hearts, had received permission from their God or gods to come here. One said that he actually saw this facility in his dreams years before it became a reality. Another told me that she felt goodness and caring when she entered our halls.

Well, in 2001, a Harvard M.D. by the name of Dr. Wayne London, came to visit us and began to explain that he had been following our work for four years. He explained that he believed that something wonderful was happening at the little facility that could not be explained by normal words or expressions. He described this area as "the healing hillside."

Dr. London also provided me with great relief when he explained that it was no accident that a musician was in charge because my instincts had led me assemble an ensemble of players who could provide unique and beautiful healing sounds through their science and their work. He also told me to stay humble because something much larger than me was trying to work through me.

If that wasn’t enough, I was walking through Key West with my family when my daughter pushed me into a soothsayer’s chair and then ran from the scene of the crime. The middle aged woman looked down, looked back up and said, "You have been placed on this earth to bring great healing to the world." Nearly a year later, another happenstance placed me in a chair in front of a wonderful woman who looked me deeply in the eyes and said, "I knew you were coming here. God is doing his work through you. You will help bring healing and cures to tens of thousands of people."

Okay, if you’re still reading, all three of these people freaked me out completely, but during the past five years our infection rate has dropped to a level that is, on average, consistently around or below 1%. That’s eight points less than the 9% national average. It was an interesting enough finding that a group of environmental scientists from Georgia Tech, Virginia Tech, The University of Pittsburgh, and Penn State received a grant to study our hospital in order to attempt to determine what exactly is going on regarding this issue.

If that is not enough, we have also begun serious testing of vaccines that are being developed collaboratively with our military partners for breast, colon and prostate cancers. To date, the results have been nothing short of miraculous.

Finally, we have been running a program for the past five years that reverses heart disease through diet, exercise group support and stress management.

What’s it all about? Well, our vision, our mission, our goals and our communications are all based on the spiritual connectivity of humankind with one another and with a universe that is larger than any mere mortal can grasp. It’s based on a spirituality that embraces the thought that race, religion, nationality and political beliefs are all moot points here. It’s based on the love and respect that have become our drivers.

We have recently been nominated as one of the top 50 places to work in the country, and, if we’re selected, I’m not sure what that may end up meaning to our facilities or our employees, but it is clear to me that it will mean that someone, somewhere may ask us just how this has happened, and I will be the first to tell you that The Windber Research Institute and Windber Medical Center were both just a dream, and now, their reality is setting a pace to begin to change our medical world. So, don’t turn away from spirituality. It may be just exactly what the doctor ordered.