Nick's Blog

Once in a Lifetime . . . Twice in One Year?

It was an exciting week-end earlier this year when Indiana University recognized me as a distinguished alumni... one of only 250 from the 85,000+ graduates. But then something else happened. The Windber Area Hall of Fame Committee selected me for inclusion into, you guessed it, the Windber Hall of Fame. This would have been an honor if I had been a Windber Athlete, a Windber resident, a Windber product, but I was born in Connellsville and raised in a little village called East Liberty, a.k.a., Dickerson Run, Pennsylvania. (As far as I know, the 200 people who live there don't have a hall of fame, but I was once told that I was the best paperboy they had ever had!)

So, to be inducted into the Windber Hall of Fame without any of the above listed attributes was especially gratifying. To paraphrase the words of Dr. Rudolfo Furigay, "I look like I'm from someplace else, but my home is Windber."

Well, because you weren't all able to attend, I decided to include my two minute speech, but let me just say that I was moved by this honor. So, thanks, Windber, for the memories.

Thank you Mike, the committee and all of the citizens of Windber. As my Quaker Presbyterian mom used to tell me whenever I got too much press, “Fools names and fools faces, always appear in public places." (I think that was an old Quaker saying that was meant to keep us Italian Quakers humble!) Love ya, mom, but we’re here tonight anyway.

It is with deep humility that we accept this recognition here this evening. I believe that the true recipients of this acknowledgement, however, should be my board of directors, our employees and the Windber Medical Center Medical Staff. Unlike any other board and medical staff with whom I have worked these past 18 years, these men and women in both the Medical Center and the Research Institute have allowed me to fly. And I’m sure on many days they were holding their breath and saying, "I hope the heck this guy knows what he’s doing." Because, I’ll tell ya, I've scared myself more than once during this journey.

They should be acknowledged and recognized for their work for not eight years, but for the past 99 years. Because, without their tenacity, dedication and passion, there would have been NO WINDBER MEDICAL CENTER for us to build upon. People like Drs. Wheeling, Blair, Orris, Barefoot, Furigay, Csikos, Gary, Park, Bencie, Swansinger... board members like Dave Klementik, Ted Hollern, Ron Corl, Jeanne McKelvey, and oh so many dedicated, hard working staff members have made our Healing Hillside come to life.

When Dr. Dean Ornish used to argue with me about my ability to bring his program to WMC, he would yell, "What do you want from me, Jacobs?" And my consistent response was, "I want you to help me take the question mark away from the word Windber on the international stage." Well, together we have done that. It has been at no small price to any of us.

But when this chapter is finished and this book is closed, NO ONE will be able to say that collectively we haven't made a difference. We’ve added nearly 300 jobs and a payroll for Windber that is approaching $12M. So, everyday I thank God, my family, the employees, this board and medical staff for their help and support and for allowing me to FLY.

Not Bad for a Friday . . .

For the past two and a half years, we have struggled with our federal funding.  This struggle has become very personal at times for me, and the weight of its impact has sometimes taken a heavy toll. 

The struggle hasn't been because of a lack of success in our efforts to acquire federal contracts. Due to Congressman Murtha's efforts in our stead, we have been extremely successful.  In fact, we have been told that our collection of federally earmarked research contracts is one of the largest in the United States.

This situation also was not because of our lack of partners.  We are partnering with places like Georgetown University, the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, the University of Pittsburgh Cancer Institute, Conemaugh Health System, Johns Hopkins University, the University of Maryland and the University of California, San Francisco to name a few. 

Our first challenge came when our long time funder, the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences moved their focus from Congressional funding to NIH funding.  The transition process involved in our transfer of those funds to TATRC at Fort Detrick held back the flow of our grants for over a year. Then we hit head on into the controversy created with the diocese's demolition of St. Mary's Hungarian Church.  Our funds were embargoed for nearly seven months, while the mitigation process with the historical groups took place. 

The greatest challenge, however, occurred because of our success.  Windber Medical Center was a for profit hospital the entire time that it was owned by the Berwind White Coal Company, and when we became a 501(c)3 non profit hospital, we did so with very little funding in reserves.  Consequently, as the Windber Research Institute grew, our funding mechanisms were structured so as to require funds to be spent and receipts submitted prior to the release of our grant monies.

The evolution of this growth was an extremely tight cash flow crunch that jeopardized not only the hospital, but also the Institute.  It's important that you understand that our business has doubled in the past eight years, but, due to this grant requirement to spend before receipt of funds,  our cash flow had reached an all time low, and the domino effect of this interesting predicament has been many sleepless nights for those of us responsible for making all of this work.

Why am I telling you this?  Well, today, four of us went to the Jackson Foundation, the agency that handles our grants from the Department of Defense, and something great happened.  After seven months of searching, we discovered with our partner, a way to accelerate the flow of our funds in order to alleviate this shortage of cash. 

What does it mean to you?  Maybe not so much.  What does it mean to us, potentially, everything.  It will allow the Research Institute to expand, exponentially.  It will allow the hospital to be fiscally stable.  Finally, it may even let a few of us worriers sleep a little more often. So, thank you Mr. Murtha. Thank you Jackson Foundation.  Thank you Ft. Detrick/TATRC, and THANK YOU, GOD!!

The Fourth of July

It's actually only the 2ND of July, but on a long week-end, everyday feels like the fourth.  For example, last night the kids all gathered in the back yard and set off firecrackers.  Illegal, a little.  Noisy, yes.  Today, the first of three picnics.  Now, understand, today was "the big one,"  It was the one where all of the kids and grandchild came as did the godchild and some friends.  Twelve in all.  There was, as always, way too much food, too many margaritas, and, of course, lots and lots of conversation. 

Well, here's where the day may have taken an interesting turn.  I went to HealthStyles and started walking on the tread mill beside a friend of mine, and he told me this story.  He said that he had started the day by drinking a glass of milk before his workout at HealthStyles.  When he got on the treadmill, he said that he began experiencing discomfort in his chest.  So, as a heart patient, of course. one begins,to wonder.  Was he getting sick?  Did his last procedure work?  He asked me if he was having chest pains because of the exercise or because of the milk?  He wanted to know if it was the beginning of a heart attack or just gas?  He wanted to know if I thought he would make it through the exercise? 

He clearly got my attention, and that was the way my day started.  My day started like many days have started for me as a hospital administrator.  People think that, because we work in a hospital, we have medical knowledge.  They think that we civilians can answer questions that most of our physicians have trouble answering.  We become the experts in their lives.  They come to lean on us for help and guidance as communicators and lay people.  It's a very big responsibility.

He got off the treadmill and began to walk the track.  I listened to my IPod and  watched him walk FAST.  Then he began to run.  Slowly, he later told me as I watched with baited breath, that the discomfort had dissipated and converted into a few burps, a gas bubble?  Maybe. 

He continued to walk and run for about four miles.  Then rode the bike.  Then he did the weights.  No more discomfort?  No more pain?  BUT, is he okay?  Are any of us okay? 

You know. It made me very thoughtful today, once again, about the enormous responsibilities that we all have to help our fellow man just "make it through the night."  I wish I could have helped him more, but then . . . that is life.  We must be very aware of our power, and we must never abuse it.