Worth a thousand words

As I researched the St. Mary's website, I found plenty of information on its many health departments. From Cardiovascular Care and Diabetes Wellness, to Orthopedics and Surgical Services, St. Mary's answers all of the frequently asked questions with an exception of one--"What does the hospital look like?"

I was astonished when an hour's worth of searching produced three mediocre pictures of the inside of the building. I was disappointed that I could not provide proof to my readers of the dull living arrangements within the hospital; however, I soon realized that the lack of visual images may bear more weight in my argument.

With a single snapshot of St Mary's cement and steel-clad towers, the patient is left with a wondering imagination as to what the inside reveals. The website does not offer any virtual tours or photo galleries of the 380 bedrooms it boasts. The few pictures it does contain are closeups of patients, hiding the whitewashed walls surrounding them. Additionally, one can not get an accurate size of the rooms or the proximity of large machinery. I have been inside this medical tower to experience first-hand the bland, claustrophobic spaces.

If I were an expecting mother, I would not only request a picture of my birthing room, but the blueprint of my entire floor! The gift of life should not be squeezed between vinyl curtains and tight lunch hours. Additionally, if I were recovering from a surgery or fighting a disease, I would not want to wake up to walls like these:

Coffee is great, but I wouldn't choose the "love of latte" paint swatch to adorn my walls. Since when does the color beige evoke deep psychological thought? Answer: It does not.

Can you spot a commonality in the picture on the right with the previous one above? I see one--white walls and bulky machinery. Both doctors look happy and inviting, yet pictures may be deceiving. Once the medical practitioners exit the room, the patients are left with cords, monitors, and power switches. Even if paint, plants, and pictures were impossibilities, cover the walls with a soft, linen drape that decorates and conceals the ugly metal.

The question is yours--What bed would you rather wake up in?

The American Hospital Association

The American Hospital Association (AHA) was created in 1898 to represent hospitals, health care centers, and patients across the United States. It is a national organization that addresses health policy development, legislative and regulatory debates, and judicial matters.

When I came across this organization, I was enthralled by the similarity between their vision and mine. Although I am approaching a national medical society from a creative side, both of our goals are to improve the health and atmospheres of hospitals. The AHA's mission statement reads:

"Our mission is to advance the health of individuals and communities. The AHA leads, represents and serves hospitals, health systems and other related organizations that are accountable to the community and committed to health improvement."

I would also like to "advance the health of individuals and communities" by revamping the inside aesthetics and workings of these infrastructures. If I could create a partnership with the AHA while communicating with each hospital's executive officials, my message and work would surely be acted upon.

In 1937, the AHA created the Blue Cross; and in 1951 they established the Commission on Financing of Hospital Services which resulted in the Medicare legislation in 1965. The most significant accomplishments of the AHA have been the establishment of the House of Delegates in 1938, the regional advisory boards in 1968, the constituency sections in 1983, and the restructuring of the process in 1987.

The AHA has state, regional, and metropolitan hospital associations with an interactive map that, when clicked on, gives contact information of each executive.

View Map

Rich Umbdenstock is the president and CEO of the entire AHA; however Bill Welch is the lead executive of the Nevada Hospital Association. Since my efforts will begin in my home state, I will contact Mr. Welch first.

With headquarters in Chicago and Washington D.C., this organization has made great strides throughout history. Their assistance will surely turn my vision into a reality.

To learn more about the AHA, click here.

The Ultimate Road Trip

As I mentioned in my opening statement of this blog, my vision is to reconstruct St. Mary's Hospital in Reno, Nevada. It is here where two of my sisters were born, and continues to stand as the leading health care organization in my home town. I take pride in the city of Reno and will first make improvements to the area that means the most to me; however, my efforts do not stop here. In addition to local reconstruction, I would like to take this feat further and conquer hospitals across the Untied States. Because of my gigantic and difficult task, I had to chose a small area to start in which I would build upon.

I have chosen to to master this task by targeting hospitals one region at a time. When St. Mary's is finished, I will move on to the Washoe County Hospital which is also in Reno. From here, I will move to Las Vegas and restructure hospitals such as, Centennial Hills and Montevista. My current change agent is St. Mary's Vice President, Linda Dierks. Although she will be extremely helpful in my first reconstruction, she will not be able to assist me outside of her own hospital. Therefore, I will contact the Chiefs of Staff and Vice Presidents of my future hospital projects in order to achieve my vision.

After the state of Nevada is complete, I will move directly westward to northern California. I will transform hospitals in Sacramento, San Francisco, and move down the state to Los Angeles and San Diego.

State by state, the new wave of hospitals will expand, creating inviting, happy, and positive atmospheres for patients across the United States. I will move into the North West, from Oregon, Washington, and Idaho; and make my way down to Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico.

As the West materializes and grows, I will communicate with Tuner Construction in building management centers in every region. These centers will work with the hospitals' main executives to oversee development and maintain modern-looking hospital settings. There will also be research groups analyzing the effects of aesthetics on the mind. They will constantly find new ways in which to improve the lives of hospital patients and see how their attitudes progress. The management centers will keep hospitals connected, implementing a sense of creative uniformity. Lastly, the centers will make the process go faster, as we will be travelling the US and working on hospitals from many different fronts.

After St. Mary's hospital in Reno is finished, I will ask Linda Dierks, as well as a few other executives, to travel to conferences with me. Here they will give personal testimonials about how my strides have brought great success to their community and patients.

It's going to be a long road, but I'm ready to take it.

Meet the Neighbors

One of the most frightening feelings that a patient endures when he or she is checked into the hospital is the fear of loneliness. Patients with cancer, or those scheduled for surgery, may become anxious and depressed because they have just embarked upon battle by themselves. No matter how many friends and family come to visit, the internal feelings of a patient will never fully be understood. Sympathy does not bear as much weight as someone who can empathize with the same stress and fear. Therefore, I believe patients should be able to talk and share stories with other patients in the hospital. If the goal is to build a sense of community, optimism, and happiness, patients need to interact with others in similar positions.

The act of speaking about a problem is a wonderful healing method in itself; especially if the receiver is going through similar struggles. Nurses and doctors should create open-hour meet and greet sessions in which patients are introduced to the neighbors surrounding them.

I spoke previously of brilliantly decorated lounges with comfortable couches in which patients are able to escape to. If two cancer patients are able to connect, relax, and share stories in one of these living room lounges, then my vision will be a success.

An environment is not shaped solely by visual images. It is defined by the emotions exchanged through the souls of others. I have researched many aspects of this hospital project, and my belief could not be stronger that what I am fighting for is worth every effort.

The Voice of a Child

When I was in elementary school, I was a member of my school choir. I had a passion for singing and performing in front of people--thriving off of solos and spotlight performances. When I was in 6th grade, I was elected as president of the choir. I led the other "Roy Gomm Family Singers" in songs that required sign language or split harmonies. One of my jobs was to supervise and aid to the younger students when we went on field trips.

Every year, the Gomm Family Singers perform in local hotel/casinos, malls, and rest homes for the elderly. My favorite places to go were the elderly communities because the people there were so appreciative and thrilled to hear us sing. These field trips in particular, were extremely rewarding for both the tenants and the choir.

I would lead our 85 choir members into the lobby of the rest homes where we would line up in several curved rows. After we assumed our positions, my teacher tested the sound, set up microphones, adjusted the volume, and organized her music sheets. As the choir stood quietly waiting to begin, old men and women were brought to the room, mostly in wheel chairs. The looks on their tired faces were infused with life and happiness as they say the wave of children standing before them.

We sang our traditional choir songs, as well as a few oldies such as, Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. In between songs and at the end of our performances, we would walk through the audience and say hello to the men and women. Feelings of pure enjoyment and love were prevalent in their eyes. Although some were unable to speak, they showed their gratitude with nonverbal facial gestures.

There is a special wonderment that one receives from the presence and voices of young children. As I look back, I am honored to have spread that feeling to a small community. In my hospital project, I want to bring the same overwhelming joy to patients. In addition to the hospital's makeover, I would like to bring in young guests to perform and interact with the patients. Of course, not all hospital patients are old and weathered; however, live performances bring happiness to people of all ages.

The performance groups will consist of elementary to high school choirs, and even some college acapella teams. Additionally, I would like to invite inspirational speakers, magicians, and other performers with special talents. There will be a performing arts theater inside the hospital where patients will get to see the shows. Special conditions will be met for more critical or immobile patients; therefore, almost everyone will get the opportunity to relieve themselves from their stresses.

(6) Optimism: The Best Prescription Medicine

The goal of this blog is to restore optimism in patients by changing the visual atmosphere and the business-like management of the hospital. In order to reinforce my belief that optimism helps fight disease, I found a study that embodies my argument.

The Credit Valley hospital in Ontario, Canada conducted an experiment on the correlation between optimism and less distressed patients. Their results were recently published in the journal of Health Psychology. Through research, the hospital has proved that "what people think and believe can affect how they feel, and can also determine who well they do." They study emphasized the fact that people have the power to change their own attitudes if they want to.

Research psychologists at Credit Valley monitored a variety of patients, all with life altering diseases. First they tracked patients who previously had heart attacks or were diagnosed with unstable angina. They found that after a year after these accidents, optimistic patients were less depressed than those who were pessimistic.

A second study involved patients who had underwent heart bypass surgery. Again, optimists recovered from surgery faster and with less complications than pessimists.

The same results were found when patients with rheumatoid arthritis, chronic back pain, and multiple sclerosis were monitored. If these patients maintained positive attitudes and believed that they were being proactive about their care, then they did better. However, the people who felt helpless and worried about their symptoms only progressed further into their unhealthy states.

This article bears much weight in my blog. If art and atmosphere makes us happy, happiness leads to optimism, and optimism results in healthier patients. The proof is undeniable.

Reference: http://www.cvh.on.ca/admin/wellness_Beliefs_and_Attitudes_Can_Affect_Your_Well_Being_and_Health.php

(5) From the Birthing Chair

I am the oldest of four girls. Alley is 18, Shelby is 14, and Gianna is 5. When my first two sisters were born I was only 2 1/2 and 6 years of age; therefore, memories of their births, if any, are few. Due to a blood type difference between my mother and her girls, Shelby and Gianna were both high-risk pregnancies. As a 6 year old, I remember sitting on a rolling hospital bed with my mother as the doctors squeezed blue Ultra Sound goo all over her tummy. Additionally, she underwent many tests which required a lot of long needles. Nevertheless, besides the goo and the shots, I do not remember very much of Shelby being born.

When my mom was pregnant with Gianna, it was the first time I got to experience and remember each phase of the pregnancy from beginning to end. I was 14 years old, turning 15, and was a freshman in high school. I can accurately depict the exact moment and place we were in when my mom first told me that she was going to have a baby. Ever since that wondrous moment, I accompanied my mother to the hospital for checkups and tests.

Throughout the 40-week period, I became very familiar with the inside of a hospital. Even though every visit was an exciting benchmark that distinguished her due date to be closer and closer, I did not look forward to these appointments. Our visits did not have a negative connotation by any means. We were not seeing a dieing patient or even someone to was severely sick. Contrarily, they symbolized new life to come, a feeling that should have evoked happiness. Nevertheless, I was overwhelmed with negative feelings due to the sad atmosphere of the hospital. The combination of smells, sounds, and visual images made me despise each checkup.

On January 2, 2004, Gianna was born. I can illustrate exactly every object in the birthing room, as well as the room's dimensions. My feelings of excitement and overwhelming joy were momentarily blanketed by a swarm of claustrophobia and disgust. I felt as though my mom was about to give birth in a closet or hallway. The room was extremely narrow and long. There was barely any standing room, especially with my the doctor, nurse, my dad, two sisters, and I. I remember finding a seat at the far back of the room by a small window. I was uneasy, nervous, and experienced much anxiety. Of course, my feelings changed when I saw my baby sister for the first time; however, the moments leading up to her birth were all but pleasant.

I had never experienced a birth before, nor do I care to experience one again. My mom was exhausted; however, after a night's rest in a stuffy room, they pushed her out and said, "So long!" The entire process of the birth was beneath my expectations. I pictured a much larger room with couches, blankets, and rocking chairs. Furthermore, the way in which the doctor worked was extremely impersonal and strictly to business. As soon as my mother was rushed in, she was rushed out. There was not any special treatment or "after-birthing room" in which she could rest and recuperate.

My goal in this project is to enlarge the hospital rooms, even if it means less total rooms in the building. Cosmetic changes are only my first stride in this project. I want to improve the bed-side manner of doctors and nurses. Hospitals should not look or be run like a business. They should not be treated like hatcheries or quarantines. Contrarily, they should look and feel like small, personable communities. Not to make the generalization that all doctors are not personable; however, there needs to be less importance placed on the paycheck and turn-around time, and more emphasis on patient comfort. If we can achieve this, we will see vast improvement in attitudes and satisfaction.