restorARTively

Anger moves things. T his Opinion Editorial from today's Wall Street Journal really ticked me off. Taking advantage of his advanced education and the weight the general public will give it, this author is putting forth decades old myths about medical malpractice. I have spent the past seven years digging against the strength of a huge institution to find out what happened to my son and then gathering the personal strength to share what I have learned so others (including the providers) do not suffer needlessly. In Pennsylvania alone, which put in place its own tort reform in March 2002, there were approximately 350,000 reported sentinel events to the state's Patient Safety Authority for 2007. For the same time period there were only about 1300-1400 medical malpractice cases on the judicial dockets. That is one-half of one-percent. And, of those few cases that will go to jury trial , the vast majority will be found for the defense. I am proud to be an American. There are multitu...

I presented my son's one way ticket to heaven and my subsequent journey to hell and back via health care with a small group of health risk managers this morning. The informal restorative practices that I implemented on my own after nothing else worked can serve as an example of what patients and providers can do for themselves. It is possible for them to talk even after errors and mistakes. Hopefully, our story can make a difference for another patient & provider in conflict. Most of the audience understood the importance of proactive restorative circles in health care. The idea of reactive restoration was more of a challenge. One mentioned they had to tell patients we cant talk to you while we are investigating these care concerns. I asked "What will it take for you to include the patient and family in the investigation?" I asked, "Why don't you tell the patient, 'we are investigating what happened and would like your input?'" The most revealin...

Yesterday was a milestone in my personal and professional pursuit for restoration of peace and justice for my son and millions others who have not had a voice in health care . I earned a Master's degree in Restorative Practices and Education. Having deferred a law school admission after my adventures in health care & medical malpractice litigation instead, I took a calculated risk on the long lasting benefits of this new emerging social science which aims to "restore community in a disconnected world". After receiving the strange shaped yellow hood and fresh parchment and finally taking a breather I checked my email. There were three new requests from three different individuals involved in incidents of harm (all in health care ) seeking information and guidance on how to move forward restoratively in their conflicts. As I move forward to do what I had hoped to be qualified to do, I appreciate our graduation speaker's challenges to all the graduates. Terry O...

My Wall written by Grace M. (6th grade) Little brothers, I have two of these, But only one is here with me. Seven years have passed without him, He died around October eleventh. That has been my biggest wall since then, Feeling sad and confused was the newest trend. No one knew how to handle this, We don’t really know him but he is missed. The wall that his doctors had built for us, Is now slowly but surely turning to dust. We’re conquering the challenge, seizing the day, The wall that was built is not here to stay. ~ Thanks Grace. Your courage to share this poem is appreciated as the first guest blogger on RHC blog. It is not always the powerful in health care that can leave the most impact - it is often the most unempowered that are most impacted and leave the most beneficial impact as well.

The eagle soaring outside the hospital room window influences the dream. The sky is a crisp blue only occasionally dotted with appetizing white puffs. I can feel the sun and dream my ailing son will feel it too. The eagle dips to the right and slants to the left. Its wings are stretched in comfort and confidence. As the sunlight gleams between each unfurled feather it stings my eyes. It is not my place to fly yet. The eagle has not come for me. Days pass but not much else. The eagle visits daily outside the young boy's window and just outside of his sight. The sky color does not change only the sun's routine alters the view. The young patient faces medical trials each day. The eagle becomes more brazen in tempting the youth, I help by nonchalantly nudging the foot of the bed towards the window. Careful not to make a sound and not to jar any of the lines tethering this patient to his bed. The flyer enjoys the audience coursing ever closer to the glass. It brings relief to my bed...