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Author(s):
Aaron Zitner, Globe Staff
Publication title:
Boston Globe (pre-1997 Fulltext)
COMMUNITY WORKS AT RESUSCITATING AILING SYMMES HOSPITAL; [THIRD Edition]
Aaron Zitner, Globe Staff. Boston Globe (pre-1997 Fulltext). Boston, Mass.: Apr 1, 1990. pg. 1
While Woburn mourns Choate, residents in nearby Arlington fear they will lose Choate's sister hospital, Symmes, the largest employer in town and a lifeline for Arlington's unusually large elderly population. "Without Symmes, there would be nothing that serves Arlington, Lexington and Belmont that is right in the area," said Dr. Burt Perlmutter, president of the Symmes medical staff.
In October, the single corporation that runs Choate and Symmes filed for Chapter 11 protection from its creditors, setting off the first Massachusetts hospital bankruptcy in memory and sending community leaders scurrying to save the hospitals. In Woburn, residents offered to raise money through dances and raffles, while Mayor John Rabbitt agreed to forgive $43,000 in unpaid sewer and water bills. In Arlington, the 1,000 people who braved stormy weather for a meeting on Symmes impressed state Public Health Commissioner David Mulligan with "a level of fear that is particularly intense."
Other hospitals may cost more. The average inpatient stay at Choate-Symmes cost $2,947, far less than at Mt. Auburn Hospital in Cambridge, Lahey Clinic in Burlington, Lawrence Memorial Hospital in Medford or Somerville Hospital, according to a 1989 memo by the state's Rate Setting Commission. Winchester Hospital was the only one in the area to charge less than Choate-Symmes.
(1326 words)
Copyright Boston Globe Newspaper Apr 1, 1990
NORTHWEST WEEKLY
WOBURN - Twenty-six years after Billy was born, 19 years after bone disease hit her and only months after Bob's heart attack, Fran Hammond recently walked into Choate Hospital once again for an uncomfortable event.
Each wheelchair, each X-ray machine and just about everything in the hospital wore a yellow tag to signal that it would soon be auctioned off. Heart monitors and blood pressure machines that had been hooked to Bob, her husband, just weeks before stood ready for sale.
Choate Hospital was bankrupt and closed, and Fran Hammond was nearly in tears over the loss of "something Bob and I have used all our married lives," a central feature of life in Woburn for 82 years.
"Dress shops close. Pet stores close. Hospitals don't close, and when they do, you worry," said Fred McCauley of Woburn, who worked security at the auction. "I think everyone used the emergency room here at least once with their kid."
But the story may get even sadder, as more of Boston's northwest suburbs could join Woburn as early victims of a statewide shakedown in the hospital industry.
While Woburn mourns Choate, residents in nearby Arlington fear they will lose Choate's sister hospital, Symmes, the largest employer in town and a lifeline for Arlington's unusually large elderly population. "Without Symmes, there would be nothing that serves Arlington, Lexington and Belmont that is right in the area," said Dr. Burt Perlmutter, president of the Symmes medical staff.
Town leaders trying to save the hospital argue that the need for it grew after Sancta Maria Hospital, near the Belmont-Cambridge line, closed its inpatient services last year. And while state health officials deny it, some say that the longer ambulance rides to other hospitals could jeopardize patients who would have gone to Choate, Symmes or Sancta Maria.
In October, the single corporation that runs Choate and Symmes filed for Chapter 11 protection from its creditors, setting off the first Massachusetts hospital bankruptcy in memory and sending community leaders scurrying to save the hospitals. In Woburn, residents offered to raise money through dances and raffles, while Mayor John Rabbitt agreed to forgive $43,000 in unpaid sewer and water bills. In Arlington, the 1,000 people who braved stormy weather for a meeting on Symmes impressed state Public Health Commissioner David Mulligan with "a level of fear that is particularly intense."
But the Choate-Symmes financial problem is formidable: after merging Choate and Symmes in 1981, the hospitals' parent company issued $32 million in bonds that it now cannot repay. In addition, it owes at least $8 million to other creditors, and the state has said it must return an undetermined amount to insurers to make up for past overpayments.
The extensive community support may not persuade state officials to throw Symmes a life preserver. While there is a sentimental attachment to community hospitals, they say, Massachusetts has too many hospital beds. Competition for patients has increased, and officials say the state cannot afford to keep losing hospitals afloat.
In fact, the staff of the state Acute Hospital Conversion Board, to which Symmes applied for financial help, has said Symmes's 148 beds are not needed. Mulligan and other members of the board are scheduled to vote in May on the staff recommendation against any further financial aid.
"Every community that has a local hospital wants to keep it, but you have to balance that with the other side of the coin," Mulligan said. "Health costs are going up. When we have a shrinking health care dollar, we can't keep using it to prop up empty hospital beds."
Rather than sustaining expensive emergency rooms and inpatient beds, health officials say some hospitals should extend their outpatient and psychiatric services or cater to the long-term needs of the elderly. Sancta Maria, for example, is making that transition, and 122-bed Choate Hospital was recently sold to a nonprofit group that will turn much of the building into "assisted living" apartments for senior citizens. Choate will also have a walk-in health center and other medical offices.
But as of last week Symmes was still working to keep itself intact, emergency room and all. Creditors appeared willing to forgive a portion of the debt. The plan under negotiation would give them lower-valued bonds as well as most of the $3.1-million sale price for Choate and the $5.5 million that Winchester Hospital paid for Choate-Symmes's outpatient center in Wilmington.
A revived Symmes Hospital would still face the market pressures it did in the past. Two-thirds of the state's hospitals operated at a loss last year, up from one-third in 1986, according to the Massachusetts Hospital Association. But Choate-Symmes Health Services President David Speltz says his hospital can make it.
By lowering the current monthly debt cost of $319,000, "we can live within our means," he said. Speltz said the new Symmes Hospital would have to cut back on free programs and has already laid off eight employees with "vice president" in their title.
Speltz and others say Arlington has cause to fear serious problems from a closure:
Local people work at local hospitals. About 500 people lost their jobs at Choate, while 550 work at Symmes.
The elderly would be inconvenienced. More than 20 percent of Arlington residents are over 65, far above the statewide average of 14 percent, according to hospital figures. Only 13 percent of the elderly have driver's licenses. These people rely on Symmes for easy access to outpatient services, meals-on-wheels programs and for a place to volunteer their free time.
Other hospitals may cost more. The average inpatient stay at Choate-Symmes cost $2,947, far less than at Mt. Auburn Hospital in Cambridge, Lahey Clinic in Burlington, Lawrence Memorial Hospital in Medford or Somerville Hospital, according to a 1989 memo by the state's Rate Setting Commission. Winchester Hospital was the only one in the area to charge less than Choate-Symmes.
Ambulance service may suffer. Woburn Fire Chief Robert Doherty downplayed the fear that patients will die because of longer trips to other hospitals. But he said the extra travel time means the city's single ambulance will not be able to return to service as quickly.
Said Robert Casey, Arlington's fire chief: "We can reach Symmes from any place in town within three minutes. . . . If we do lose the hospital, there is a big impact."
Most sorely missed, according to Fran and Bob Hammond, would be the feeling that familiar doctors, nurses and clergy are nearby.
As real estate developer William S. Cummings, whose nonprofit foundation is converting Choate to new uses, auctioned off mammography units and other equipment last month, the Hammonds stood back from the crowd and remembered the times that the hospital staff gave them a hand.
Bob's sister had graduated from the hospital as a nurse, and the Hammond's son, Billy, was born there. "When you were sick, you knew the nurses and the priest would be right here," Fran said.
Meanwhile, two veterinarians picked over a box of clamps and braces. A woman examined an X-ray machine for the clinic her group will open in Haiti. Hospital agents from Taunton and Medford bid against each other for a sterilization machine.
Former hospital employee Susan Nelson said she is less worried than Hammond about the loss of Choate, despite the fact that Nelson was born there, lives next door and worked there from age 16. Her parents also worked at Choate -- her father as a doctor and her mother as a nurse.
Now, Nelson works for the non-profit agency that is converting Choate to new uses. "I can see what they're doing here, and the senior housing is needed," Nelson said. "Other than this horrendous situation of losing the hospital, we're having a rebirth. Other people in town haven't had a chance to see that."
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Caption: PHOTO
GLOBE STAFF PHOTO/DAVID L. RYAN / Fran and Bob Hammond stroll by the closed Choate Hospital in Woburn.
[Illustration]
PHOTO
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