Most people would get upset being yelled at for parking in a handicapped space.
For Acton's
Russell Hilterman, it was a shining moment. "This kid screamed at me, 'Hey, you don't belong there. You're not handicapped,'" Hilterman recalled with a smile.
Only months earlier, Hilterman was indeed handicapped, left paralyzed from a rare immune disorder that struck him during a trip to New York. Hilterman was flown back to Henry Mayo Newhall Memorial Hospital to recover at the hospital's Acute Rehabilitation Unit. His condition required months of intensive therapy.
On Nov. 16, 2007, Hilterman, along with four other former rehabilitation patients, spoke about their experiences at Henry Mayo's "Healthy Homecoming," an annual event that celebrates their independence achieved through the hospital's rehabilitation services after traumatic illnesses or injury.
President/CEO
Roger Seaver kicked off the festivities, introducing
Raymond Gritton, M.D., medical director of rehabilitation services.
Elizabeth Cravitz, trauma program manager, gave a brief presentation on the path that trauma patients often take through Henry Mayo before their stay in the ARU and the continuum of care they receive along the way.
Before introducing the testimonial speakers, Gritton noted why he chose rehabilitation as a specialty.
"In rehab, you bond with patients and that facilitates the recovery process. It's not passive - these patients work hard - two to three hours a day," he said. "You get to be there for the victories and the setbacks. I really appreciate the power in that protocol and I'm proud to be a part of it."
Hakan Edstrom was the first patient to speak. President and Chief Operating Officer of MannKind Corporation, Edstrom was removing holiday lights in December, 2006, when he fell 10 feet from the rooftop.
He was admitted to Henry Mayo with traumatic brain injuries that caused him to lose most of his functional and cognitive skills. After two weeks, Edstrom could only remember two zoo animals when asked by his therapist.
By his own admission, Edstrom was not an easy patient. "I tried to convince my son to help me escape through the vents. They had to tie me down," he said. "Yet, overall, the experience was very rewarding and humbling."
Edstrom revealed during his speech that his family was so impressed with Henry Mayo, they donated $10,000 to patient care services.
After leaving the hospital, Edstrom continued rehabilitation on an outpatient basis. He has since returned to work. "Every time I pass Henry Mayo, I say thank you. This hospital is such an asset to the community," Edstrom said.
Excruciating head pain and numbness in her right side led Castaic's
Patsy Bossingham to believe she was having a stroke, which her mother suffered from 30 years earlier.
At Henry Mayo's Emergency Department, Bossingham remembered being coherent yet tired. She decided to take a nap and woke up in the Acute Rehabilitation Unit.
Extensive physical, speech, and occupational therapy followed. "On the first day, I thought I'd never walk again. By the third day, I knew I'd get better," Bossingham recalled. "The hospital staff cared for and encouraged me every day. I couldn't have done it without Henry Mayo. Their rehabilitation people are responsible for the fact that I can still walk."
Retired air traffic controller and former Valencia resident
Norman Winkel of Indio demanded to be brought to Henry Mayo after receiving a bilateral hip replacement, waiting for 36 hours post-surgery to come to the hospital's ARU. Why? His wife was an ARU patient before passing away. "I wanted the people who took care of my wife to take care of me," Winkel said with tears in his eyes. "I was knocking on the door for them to let me in."
Winkel became the hospital's first patient to rehabilitate after a bi-lateral hip replacement, recovering quickly and asking to walk out of the unit, instead of being pushed in a regulation wheelchair, when it was time for discharge.
While he didn't get that wish, today Winkel can play golf, swim, and ride a bike with no pain. "Thank you all, thank you Henry Mayo," Winkel said in conclusion, his voice quivering with emotion.
Using his favorite sport as a metaphor for his recovery, Hilterman's speech left barely a dry eye in the house. "Like a hockey player must have a goal, a therapist must care," he said. "My team of therapists worked every day to help me meet my goal and I could fall asleep at night knowing that someone cared for me."
Hilterman's Henry Mayo "team" included
Ken Skeens, who helped arranged a private jet to transport Hilterman to the hospital;
Hayden Logston, the nurse who cared for Hilterman his first night and would check on him frequently, even when it wasn't his shift; and
Terence Bito, the therapist whom he described as "a big, cuddly teddy bear with the strength of an ox and the only person I trusted to pick me up."
"Coach Gritton, thank you for assembling my team and helping me reach my potential," Hilterman said.
On Aug. 14, 2007, Hilterman went back to playing hockey and shot his first post-rehab goal. He threw that puck to
Terri Quiantance, his physical therapist and chosen Henry Mayo MVP, before walking off the stage.
"I thought I was here to play bingo,"
Chris Knopf, the last speaker, joked, referencing her time spent socializing in the ARU after a head-on collision left her with a fractured nose, broken rib, cracked eye orbit, and a crushed heel.
Knopf was in a coma for five days prior to receiving surgery for her injuries and spending two weeks rehabilitating at Henry Mayo.
Knopf thanked her ICU team, as well as surgeon
Donald Wiss, M.D. , who replaced her heel with titanium to regain use of her foot and repaired her eye orbit, before moving on to the rehabilitation staff:
Suki Rana,
Michelle Gravier,
Lori Senft and Dr. Gritton.
"Rehab was frustrating for me. I don't like to be told what to do, but everyone at the hospital was awesome, just phenomenal," Knopf said. "I try to come back to thank them whenever I can. Henry Mayo saved my life."