Piece about my Beloved Alma Mater - great summary of St. Vincent's Hospital, NY, NY accomplishments

Anne Marie O’Brien, RN,MSN,CIC February 7, 2010 · 8:56 pm

The following is an excerpt from the NY Times which was written by SVH Graduate, Anne Marie O’Brien:

“I offer only a small portion of SVH accomplishments or “firsts” which have directly impacted on the lives of our community, city and, indeed, the art of healthcare:
1) Dr. Stephen Smith established the first Dep’t of Health in 1875 to control communicable diseases. I believe that the NYC the Dep’t of Health is the finest in the world; 2) SVH developed the first “Code 99” team to resuscitate victims of cardiac or respiratory arrest and the first mobile coronary care ambulance team; 3) SVH is renowned in outreach to and healthcare of the homeless, an often overlooked population with unique illnesses and a myriad of needs; 4) SVH pioneered the Chelsea Village model of care bringing a team of MDs, RNs and Social Workers into the homes of the frail elderly to help them remain in their homes (far less expensively than frequently hospitalizing them); 5) SVH diagnosed one of the first 10 AIDS cases reported to the CDC and helped develop models of care which ushered HIV into the realm of a chronic, treatable disease rather than a death sentence; 6) SVH was first to offer Hospice care to, at the time, beautiful young men dying of AIDS, and their significant others and families who often had little support; 7) In its 160 year history, SVH has treated victims of every major disaster affecting NYC from the Civil War to the Triangle shirt factory fire and the Titanic to September 11, 2001, and last year’s “Miracle on the Hudson” . We treated over 800 survivors on 9/11, innumerable families and friends searching for their loved ones for many weeks thereafter, and pioneered post traumatic stress treatment of survivors, rescue workers and witnesses (especially children and young adolescents); 8) SVH cared for the “worried well” staff of NBC and the Post Office after the Anthrax attacks, shortly after 9/11/01; 9) SVH is a center of excellence in the treatment of Cystic Fibrosis, in cardiac and stroke care and other specialties; 10) SVH’s Dr. Vincent Fontana pioneered child abuse recognition, prevention and treatment nation-wide, and through the astute recognition and documentation of the horrific abuse and death of Lisa Steinberg in SVH’s Emergency Department, all Emergency Departments in NY State are required to photograph suspected victims of abuse; 11) SVH established the first Neonatal ICU (NICU) and ambulance transport system for premature infants (using Bellevue’s ambulances) in NYC. The NICU is a center of excellence with an extremely low mortality rate (even in infants as small as 400 to 500 grams), and the rate of chronic lung disease in our infants is 2% compared with most other centers publishing rates of 23 to 48%. Most recently, SVH in conjunction with the Sisters of Life, established the first perinatal hospice in NYC offering care to parents who have received an adverse diagnosis in their pregnancy and who choose to have their baby to cherish during its brief life. The dignity of life and death is emphasized and parents are tenderly supported by Father O’Connell, the Sisters and SVH staff on this journey. Through the Mother Seton Foundation, clothes may be purchased, free funeral services and burials are provided, as necessary, to ensure that these treasured babies are not buried in Potter’s field.

Accomplishments such as those above, do not occur in a center for mediocrity. SVH provides excellent care, despite the innumerable obstacles of today’s healthcare system.
Each member of my family and I can also personally attest to that excellence as recipients of that care. As SVH’s recent advertising campaign stated: “St. Vincent’s is my hospital” and it always will be !

Memories,Terrors and True Confessions - More bullets

·         Some of my memories are vague but the feelings surrounding the next memory are as vivid today as they were in 1963.  I remember getting on the elevator and squeezing as far back into the corner as I possibly could.   I was holding a package that was quite heavy and looked exactly like a nice fat, rolled piece of roasting beef.   Other people got on the elevator and I averted my eyes and tried to look nonchalant.  I wanted to say, “no, I can’t do that” but how could I refuse to do one of the first assignments that I was given as a Student.   I was told to bring a freshly amputated leg down to the morgue. I was sure that everyone I met knew what I had in the package in my arms. 

I remember:

·          Routinely giving aspirin for temperatures over 101⁰.  The connection to Reye’s syndrome hadn’t been made yet.

·         The kids on Peds would get soaking wet in those clumsy square oxygen tents.

·         Sitting in a 4 bedded “baby” room during feeding time.  I/We would pick up and feed one baby and prop up the bottle for the next baby.  In our defense there wasn’t usually enough staff on evening and nights, the kids needed to be fed and we never left the room while a bottle was propped.

·         This leads me to the next memory.  We would have had loads of people who were willing and anxious and ready to feed each and every baby in the most loving manner if we didn’t practice the cruel and inhuman policy of limiting parents’ visiting hours.  I can still hear the wailing and gnashing of teeth and visualize the horrendous scene of parent’s being pulled away from sick, young children who were screaming at the top of their lungs for Mommy and Daddy to stay.   I NEVER AGREED with this policy – NEVER -but I was powerless to do anything about it.  It used to break my heart.  What was wrong with “us”?  Thank God this practice no longer exists.

·         I remember the new “clean room” on Pediatrics.  I believe Dr. Vincent Fontana was instrumental in getting this up and running.  (He was also a Leader in the Field of Child Neglect and Abuse Prevention)  You needed to don all kinds of gear including foot covering before you entered this chamber.  When you walked through the ante-room you were practically blown away by the vacuum jets.  I felt as it I was on a mission to Mars (similar to being in an episode of Star Wars) on those occasions when I was assigned to that room.  I must say it was a bit of a pain in the neck to get in and out of that place.   Do any of my classmates have more details about this special environment for kids with severe allergies and asthma?  Whatever happened to this concept?  Was it proven to help or did it go the way of aspirin for temps over 101⁰?

·         I remember attending a little “party” in the playroom area in the middle of Pediatrics. Dr. Vincent Fontana was in attendance, accompanied by the “heavyset” nun (am I allowed to say that?) who was the Pediatric Supervisor at the time.   Dr. Fontana approached me and said something like, “Hello, there, I don’t believe we ever met?”  I had worked on Pediatrics for near close to a year at that point ( It was the year after graduation so it really doesn’t fit in the category of Memories of a Student Nurse but since we are on the topic of Dr. Fontana I decided I’d throw it in).  I was more than a little bit insulted that he didn’t know that I was one of the nurses on the Unit and I responded, “Maybe it’s because I recently dyed my hair blonde. But I recognize you because your hair is the same color it has been for the last few months”.   The staff within hearing range couldn’t believe their ears.   How could I say such a thing to this big Specialist’s face?  I guess it was because I was now wearing white and was starting to get tired of the philosophy that the doctor was a supreme being and I was an ignorant peon.  This was a time when nurses stood at attention and offered their seats to any doctor entering the room.  Even, I might add, after being tattered and frayed after running ragged all night with the humanly impossible task of giving care to a ward of 40 very ill patients.  

   

Memories, Terrors, and True Confessions - bullet # 2 "I Don't Like To Sleep Alone"

After Theresa left, I was all alone in my small, dorm-style room on the 12^th floor (Kathy Murphy Leventhal - was it the 12th floor? )  at 158 West 12^th St., NY, NY.   As I mentioned in bullet # 1, I had always had a roommate – first my big brother, Charlie, and then my baby sister, Meg.  I came from a very well protected environment.  My dear Father, God rest his soul, should have had the following epitaph placed on his gravestone, “Don’t stick your neck out”.  Our safety and well-being was all he seemed to care about.  When I was a teenager and wanted to learn to drive, he said and probably meant it, “Why do you need to drive?,  I can drive you anywhere you need to go.”  I said, “What Daddy, you plan to drive me around for the rest of my life?” I finally learned to drive when I was 20.    My very first couple of nights at St. Vincent’s, I remember lying in my new bed, looking out the window at the big city lights and realizing that my childhood was over and like the Babes in Toyland, “ I could never return again”.  I cried myself to sleep for several days until my grief subsided.  When my roommate left I felt sad, scared and in need of some company.  But, by this time in my relatively new career as a student nurse, I had developed two marvelous friendships with MM Bonner and M. Geraldine Crowley. They shared a dorm room a few doors down from me, on the other side of the hall and they warmly welcomed me into their room.  The only problem was there was not one centimeter of extra space in our dorm rooms and of course, no extra bedding.  No, problem!  MM and Gerry were most generous in assisting me as I dragged my mattress down to their room.  I placed the mattress on the floor in between MM and Gerry’s beds and I felt safe, happy and content once more.  In fact it was such a positive experience that the next morning I decided to simply push the mattress under one of the beds so I would be ready for bed again that evening.  MM and Gerry were most agreeable and I believed my lonesome days were  over.   Not so.  That day, the house mother discovered that the  mattress missing from my room was stashed under the bed in my friends’ room down the hall.  She immediately reported the “incident “to the nun in charge (I believe it was Sister Delores Elizabeth).  The next thing I knew I had an appointment scheduled with the School Psychologist in order to uncover my deep seated psychological problem, i.e., “I don’t like to sleep alone”. I had several visits with the Psychologist and I really enjoyed our time together.  But the truth of the matter is I should have simply sung some of Paul Anka’s lyrics to him on my very first visit:

“No, I don't like to sleep alone
It's sad to think some folks do
No I don't like to sleep alone
No one does
Do you?”

Memories, Terrors and True Cofessions of a Young Student Nurse

Last evening I had a lengthy conversation with one of my oldest and dearest friends, Eleanor, and after sharing some stories with her, I have decided to momentarily divert from my chronological biography and go off in another tangent.

In my never ending attempt to get to the point, I will document my memories and terrors and true confessions using a bullet formatting.

• My first roommate was from Flatbush, Brooklyn.  Her name was Theresa Fitz –something (patrick or gerald – I don’t remember which).   Her Brooklyn accent was at least as strong as mine.  I think we liked each other well enough and initially I felt relatively satisfied having her as a roommate.  Things appeared to be going along quite well and we were getting more relaxed with each other.  I guess she started to really feel at home because one day out of the blue, she began to “open up”.  She began telling me all about her wonderful boyfriend.  And when I say, “all”, I mean “all’ - every last vivid detail of their relationship (if you get my drift).  She was doing things with that guy that I didn’t even know existed.  To say I was stunned and shocked is a massive understatement.   At this stage in my life (17 & ½ years old), I had already kissed a guy or two but the activities she was “enjoying” were so completely foreign to me that I stood there mute and horrified.   I never really responded verbally but that didn’t seem to discourage her.  She went on and on.  Definitely fits the acronym - TMI (too much information).  A few days later I came into the room and she was sitting crossed legged, Indian-style on her bed.  She was completely nude.  I didn’t know where to look or where to turn and I don’t even remember what I did to excuse myself from this awkward situation.   She left nursing school after only a short time (several months at most).  I don’t remember why and I don’t remember us saying “good-bye”, or “let’s keep in touch”.   So for the very first time in my life, I was alone in a bedroom.  I did not like it.