hurt me - although that’s not to say they haven’t tried. I could tell you stories that would curl your hair, but our time can best be served by telling you only what you need to know.”
With that he paused just long enough to finish one last spoonful of cherry dessert.
“Dick Lanin is an inept GP who could hardly qualify for his license to practice after he finished his general internship. About nine years ago he sucked up to his controller buddy Collier and the Sisters, whom he hates, so he could get appointed as Board Chairman at the hospital. We’ve all known that Collier was an original plant from that huge Nashville monopoly, but none of us had the guts or foresight to do anything about it back then - nor did we ever think it was even going to be a problem. As a result, Lanin and Collier have been stealing the hospital blind, and you’ve been successful in finally cutting off their water. If they had it their way, they’d bankrupt the hospital so they could take it over. You also need to know that Sister Jean, the former Administrator, and Sister Catherine the former Nursing Director, before you came here, were murdered by that son-of-a-bitch. Bill, that’s the absolute truth, but nobody is ever going to accuse him of that, if they want to live very long. You also need to know that those two Sisters were fed up with Collier’s crooked accounting tactics, and were about to blow the whistle on him. In fact, Sister Gerome, the Provincialate, told me they were driving to Denver to explain what was happening when their car ended up in the lake. They’d also told Gerome they were leaving the convent, and that was final - all because of the hell Lanin and Collier had created for them.”
“Later,” Gerome said to me, “she’d placed Jean and Catherine in two of her most responsible positions, and had told them they couldn’t just walk out on them - she told them they needed to drive to Colorado, so they could at least talk before they made any decisions that involve the hospital. If we lose that hospital, we lose our mission in healthcare she’d said to them just before they were murdered.
“Then after Lanin concocted that damned accident on their trip to Denver, Gerome flew here to visit with me. She told me she was searching for a solution to what was rapidly becoming an impossible situation. As you know, they’re a small order of just over three hundred nuns, and they’d already lost two of their smaller hospitals in the same type of hostile take-over. Bill, it was going to be impossible for them to survive if they lost this hospital. I remember standing there and watching her nervously pacing back and forth as she agonized over the predicament she was in.”
With this, Doc paused, taking one last swig of coffee.
“Then she told me she should’ve seen this coming. You know how our hospital’s costs have been spiraling out of control since those profit-centered HMOs have taken over our once nonprofit healthcare system, she’d said. And it was probably Jean’s only way of getting out of an impossible situation. Just as soon as she earned her Master’s Degree, I moved her right into one of the toughest jobs we had - and that was wrong, she explained to me.”
“Yes, but you had no choice - you had no one else who was even qualified,” I replied.
“I know, but she was just too young and inexperienced, and it was a huge mistake. Worse yet, we’ve kept her in that position way to long. In fact, she told me she couldn’t tolerate another day in that hospital because of these two thieves, which she referred to as Sodom and Gomorrah. Doctor, do you realize both Jean and Catherine were asking me for dispensation from their religious vows - can you believe that? She’d said to me - I can remember when a Sister’s vow was for life, and if we keep losing our younger nuns, it’s going to be hopeless for us to continue to help the sick and disabled.”
“Bill, for as long as I’ve known Sister Gerome, she’d always been a very efficient and capable decision maker, but this time she was clearly at a loss as to what to do. In fact she asked me if I’d pray with her, and as I watched her lower her tall aching body to her knees her voice echoed through the room in a way I’ll never forget. It was just as if she had a direct line to God. I’ll never forget the way she said Dear Lord, when will I acquire some problem solving skills? Please give me your divine guidance. I just don’t understand what you want me to do. Then she lowered her head and prayed out loud - saying a prayer I’ll never forget.”
“Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant me that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved, as to love; for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”
“I can’t explain it but I felt like the Lord was right there in the room with us. It was scary. I don’t know if you know this about Sister Gerome, but she’s half Lakota Indian, and she loved working on their Indian Reservation at Wounded Knee. She felt far more at peace swinging a hammer, or helping to build a home for a needy tribe member than playing corporate politics. But since much of her life had been spent helping the sick and disabled, she’d often said to me that she’d be damned before she’d let another group of entrepreneurial fat cats take over their largest hospital. Bill, when she finished praying her entire body seemed to relax as if she was finally at peace with herself - just as if an answer came to her without any doubt as to what had to be done. I could see the pain in her eyes as she maneuvered her large frame into a standing position, inhaling deeply to relieve that constant hip pain that had always plagued her.”
Then she looked at me and said, “Doc, we’re not licked yet. We’re not going to give up our mission, or let some corrupt group of fat cats profit from these poor sick and disabled human beings.”
“Bill, I can remember how her brown eyes were flashing in defiance as she hurriedly walked to Sister Jean’s office with me right behind her.”
“Dave Nelson, that consultant we hired, has just completed a Role and Program Study for us,” she muttered, searching for his phone number. “He’s familiar with our problems. I’m going to ask him to get us a professional administrator who can salvage this hospital.”
For a moment, I’d felt like I’d just witnessed a miracle. Fortunately, Dave Nelson, the Vice-President of the Harrington and Associates was at his desk, as she blurted out, “Mr. Nelson, this is Sister Gerome. I’m sorry to bother you, but something has come up that urgently requires your help.”
Since she had him on a speaker phone I could hear him say, “Sister, that’s no problem. What’s on your mind?”
“Mr. Nelson, I’ve got a big problem and I need your help. Sister Jean and Sister Catherine were killed in a car accident Friday night. They were both driving to Colorado to meet with me on Monday, and they were planning to resign if you can believe that. In fact, they told me they were planning to leave the order immediately.”
“Sister, I’m so sorry to hear that - that’s terrible! Please accept our sympathy.”
“Thank you, but this has been a terrible set back to us as you can well imagine, and I can no longer let our hospital problems continue this way. I need to take the necessary steps to protect our ownership, and I want you to get me a top notch lay administrator who can put things back together. I know the church won’t like that, but that’s the way it is.”
“Sister, this day was inevitable,” Dave said to her, “and I’m glad you’re finally ready to face up to your problems. What you’re going to have to do is get somebody who can go in there and play hard ball - and you know what? You’re going to have an even bigger problem when these new Medicare Caps control your hospital’s reimbursement, which goes into effect in just eighteen months. Actually, you have less than two years to reduce
