Town Hall Meeting
- At March 12, 2022
- By admin
- In Annes Letters
0
Dear Family and Friends,
Please forgive a letter following so quickly after my recent one. That message was about the past and the horrific present we are facing. However, this one is about the future, a local one, that is.
It seems the Miyagi Prefectural government is planning to relocate four medical institutions out of Sendai. Those include two regular hospitals, a cancer center, and a mental health facility.
One of the hospitals is down the street from me. I go there for my broken arm. After the initial three-week stay, I returned for rehab four times a week, then three , then twice, finally once a week. I am to see the doctor again next Wednesday, hopefully for the last time. This process has taken over a year.
Of course, I am not too keen on the relocation proposal. Neither is my friend Izumi. She has taken her husband to its emergency room four times in the middle of the night. “It was bad enough as it was. What would I have done if a hospital had not been there?” she wailed.
Today’s lecture-discussion began with a government official lecturing on why the move was crucial. His reasons were financial and the need for better medical institutions in rural areas. After an hour, he yielded the floor to anyone who wished to speak. I was surprised that everyone there, from both Sendai and the countryside, was opposed to the idea.
Many of the people who spoke lived nearby and had personal medical reasons, just as I have. But there was also a physical therapist who pointed out how inconvenient it would be for people like him. His salary would probably not increase, but his transport time and fees would. And what about his family? They would see him a lot less. Or was the government expecting them to move? Would his kids have to change schools? Could his wife keep up her current job? Or is the government planning to dismiss current employees and replace them with local ones? Needless to say, he was on edge by this entire idea.
My favorite, though, was a delightful old farmer. His recent hobby was photography. He loved the world around him and would get up early to snap shots of sunrises or the swans and cranes who visit here from Siberia in winter. He proudly held up a few of his masterpieces for us all to admire. Then he said, “Every year the Red Cross Hospital allows us to have a photo show in their lobby. How can we agree to give up that nice community space just to please you!” With that, everybody clapped.
There will be other discussions later in the month.
Please forgive a letter following so quickly after my recent one. That message was about the past and the horrific present we are facing. However, this one is about the future, a local one, that is.
It seems the Miyagi Prefectural government is planning to relocate four medical institutions out of Sendai. Those include two regular hospitals, a cancer center, and a mental health facility.
Lucky for us, the government is allowing people to voice their opinion, pro and con, to their grand plan. Today’s meeting was open to anyone in the prefecture, both in person and via Zoom.
One of the hospitals is down the street from me. I go there for my broken arm. After the initial three-week stay, I returned for rehab four times a week, then three , then twice, finally once a week. I am to see the doctor again next Wednesday, hopefully for the last time. This process has taken over a year.
Of course, I am not too keen on the relocation proposal. Neither is my friend Izumi. She has taken her husband to its emergency room four times in the middle of the night. “It was bad enough as it was. What would I have done if a hospital had not been there?” she wailed.
Today’s lecture-discussion began with a government official lecturing on why the move was crucial. His reasons were financial and the need for better medical institutions in rural areas. After an hour, he yielded the floor to anyone who wished to speak. I was surprised that everyone there, from both Sendai and the countryside, was opposed to the idea.
Many of the people who spoke lived nearby and had personal medical reasons, just as I have. But there was also a physical therapist who pointed out how inconvenient it would be for people like him. His salary would probably not increase, but his transport time and fees would. And what about his family? They would see him a lot less. Or was the government expecting them to move? Would his kids have to change schools? Could his wife keep up her current job? Or is the government planning to dismiss current employees and replace them with local ones? Needless to say, he was on edge by this entire idea.
The folks from the farming areas had the most unexpected things to contribute. I thought they would be delighted to have new medical facilities near them. But Tohoku people are conservative. One man pointed out that his village was surrounded by paddies and a circle of mountains. “It is perfect,” he said. “If you barge in and start building fancy places, you will have to widen the valley, reduce the size of the mountains, start building housing developments, widening and increasing roads. You have done that in other areas. We don’t like that. If you have to build, and we don’t want you to, you should think of building places that fit into what is already there. You should not try to change the natural world to match your desires.”
Another was an administrator from the mental institution. “We spent years getting the community around the hospital to include our patients. Now folks let them rent apartments at reasonable prices. And everyone, including the kids, accepts them and is kind to them. Plus the patients themselves. They would become terribly confused if you changed their environment so dramatically. So, please, please reconsider your plan to relocate this hard-earned anchor in our neighborhood.”
My favorite, though, was a delightful old farmer. His recent hobby was photography. He loved the world around him and would get up early to snap shots of sunrises or the swans and cranes who visit here from Siberia in winter. He proudly held up a few of his masterpieces for us all to admire. Then he said, “Every year the Red Cross Hospital allows us to have a photo show in their lobby. How can we agree to give up that nice community space just to please you!” With that, everybody clapped.
There will be other discussions later in the month.
But for now, I keep thinking of what my Dutch brother said years ago. “Daddy practiced the (fine) art of medicine. That is why I became a doctor. I left medicine when it shifted to become a science. Now, to my dismay, this great profession has become predominantly the business of medicine. It is another mentality entirely.”
My idealism nudges me to hope that in this major decision all three aspects can blend harmoniously. That is, economic concerns respectful of both the science and the art of medicine. And it is crucial to remember that medical care is first and foremost attending to vulnerable human beings with attention, skill, time, and genuine concern.
Love,
Anne
My idealism nudges me to hope that in this major decision all three aspects can blend harmoniously. That is, economic concerns respectful of both the science and the art of medicine. And it is crucial to remember that medical care is first and foremost attending to vulnerable human beings with attention, skill, time, and genuine concern.
Love,
Anne
