The Way We Were: Without A Hospital
Posted Friday, October 18, By Paul Milan, Historical Society, for The Beacon
A few people have asked me why I serve on the [Cibola General] Hospital Board when I should be enjoying retirement at my age.
My response is that a local hospital is one of the most important services that any community could enjoy and that retired people my age will choose a community that has medical facilities and transportation to these facilities or they will move. An investment in a local hospital is one of the most valuable economical development program that a city/county should pursue.
When my family moved to Grants in the 1940s there was no hospital; Dr. Fjord was the only doctor available and at that time he practiced in an old house in back of Caradine’s Drug Store. Dr. Fjord delivered most of the babies at the family’s home. I remember visiting my aunt’s home when her baby girl arrived with Dr. Fjord at the helm.
Mother Whiteside delivered most of the babies before Dr. Fjord opened his practice. My mother said that during the 1920s there was once a doctor in San Rafael who had the first automobile on this side of Valencia County.
My first encounter with medical needs in Grants was when my brother broke his arm and was rushed to Dr. Fjord’s office. Dr. Fjord admitted that he was not a bone specialist. Dr. Fjord set the arm and said that unfortunately my brother would not be able to twist his forearm. A trip to Albuquerque to a bone specialist required that the arm be re-broken and reset, which restored my brother’s arm mobility.
After the war in 1946 I believe a Dr. Harrington had a small clinic with two beds where the PNM Building is now located. My encounter with this facility was in 1947 when I was involved in an auto accident and was rushed to that clinic. Since there wasn’t any equipment to x-ray the doctor assumed that because of the broken ribs I had a punctured lung; and he told my mother that if I was alive in the morning he would operate. Since my father was out of town my mother summoned Ed Baca who had a hearse that also served as an ambulance. After receiving the last sacraments from the local priest I was rushed to St. Josephs Hospital in Albuquerque. My father, who had been in Gallup, arrived after the doctors determined that I was bleeding internally and had lost so much blood that I was almost pronounced D.O.A. (Dead On Arrival). The head nurse told my father not to waste his money because of all the blood that was needed and I would not survive anyway.
A young doctor that had come from the war told my father to let him operate immediately, without testing, because he had saved a lot of lives by immediately operating in the battlefields. My father was a partner in a liquor store in Gallup and he called the Liquor Wholesalers and their workers donated all the blood that I needed.
My father was then informed that I needed 24-hour nursing care so he had to personally hire three nurses on his own and travel to Albuquerque every Saturday to pay them $50 per week at a time when $25 per week was considered high wages.
The orthopedic surgeon told my father that he could not operate on my leg until the internal injuries were healed and to prepare me for the fact that he would likely have to amputate the broken leg. Penicillin had just been introduced and they applied a shot to me every hour on the hour. The only thing that I remember vividly was during the surgery I was floating above the doctors and watched them perform, which I was told later that I had experienced an out-of-body experience.
If this had happened today I would have been taken to the ER at the Cibola General Hospital and diagnosed with the latest equipment, provided with as much blood as needed, and operated by a local surgeon. If a surgeon were not available, they would have transported me to Albuquerque in a helicopter in minutes instead of the hours that it took in 1947. Nurses would have been available 24 hours [a day] at the hospital.
During the late forties and early fifties, Dr. Malcolm practiced out of a house where the Grants State Bank was built in 1958. Dr. Malcolm moved his office to the second story of the P&E Building, which is now the Community Pantry.
When I returned home from college in 1958 the uranium boom brought in a few doctors and most of them had offices in houses. The Anaconda Company had a clinic with at least four beds and allowed non-Anaconda citizens and local doctors to utilize their facilities. My first daughter was born at the Anaconda facility in January. Of course there was a blizzard that night; I slept upright all night in a hard chair and luckily the person who cooked was a family friend; and she fixed me a hearty breakfast.
In 1961 the Cibola Hospital was opened as a result of all the citizens fundraising with donations from the whole community. The new Hospital Board was also able to seek out federal grants and even the first uranium bust in the 1960s did not halt the progress of the hospital. The volunteers continued to raise funds for the operation year around and it seemed that everyone in the community was involved. Almost every woman was a volunteer “Pink Lady” and every family had a teenager who was a “Candy Striper.”
There was an organization of professional women, the Pilots Club, which had year-round fundraisers and a Thrift Shop that provided funds on a monthly basis. The hospital would not have existed if it hadn’t been for the citizens of Grants and Milan working together to achieve a dream of having first-class medical care.
The 1970s brought the big uranium boom and the hospital felt the growing pains and eventually it was obvious that a larger facility was needed. During a boom everybody benefits as well as everyone loses during a bust.
The 1980s brought the bust and the solution in Grants was to partner with Cibola County, which would provide bonding privileges and retain ownership of the building. Cibola General Hospital would continue managing healthcare services. It was a win-win solution with the County at that time receiving $1 per year rent and the citizens would have their health facility.This relationship between hospitals and counties was not unusual throughout the nation. Bernalillo County made the same agreement with the failing Bernalillo Hospital, which is now the UNM Hospital.
During the 1970s I moved to Dallas, Texas, and worked for the Department of Health Education and Welfare, which is now the Department of Health and Human Services. At this particular time all hospitals were looking for partnerships to keep them operating. There were rural towns throughout the nation larger than Grants that did not have doctors or hospitals. I met Cuban refugee doctors throughout the region who were recruited by small towns helping the refugees get certified and offering the Cubans free offices and housing.
After the Vietnam War the office that I worked in had a big responsibility in resettling the Vietnamese refugees at Ft. Smith, Ark. There were rural towns throughout the region (five states) with representatives waiting at the airport to recruit Vietnamese doctors offering homes, offices, equipment and a guaranteed salary.
Since New Mexico was part of my responsibility I remember that Santa Rosa was without a doctor or a hospital; and the city, county officials, and leaders were advertising nationwide offering all kinds of amenities.
I was an Intergovernmental Officer with HEW (now the Dept. of Health and Human Services) and it was my responsibility to work with all levels of state and local governments. I was told that the county government was responsible for the Health and Welfare of the citizens and the County Judge in Texas had the same responsibilities. This gave me the opportunity to visit many counties and attend County Association Conferences; and I was even invited to set up workshops for them.
Most of the officials that I had the pleasure of meeting were aware of their responsibilities and indicated that they would do whatever they could to support the medical and social service organizations and would do everything possible to help them do their jobs. These same officials told me that they were grateful that these Health and Welfare providers were dedicated to providing the services that they were responsible for and letting them as county officials take all of the honors.
Since my wife and two of my children were riddled with diabetes we have spent time in hospitals in Mexico, every hospital in Albuquerque, Las Cruces, and many hospitals in Dallas.
During the 1980s I got involved in acquiring the Grants State Bank with the minority stockholders and I came to Grants at least once a month; and told my wife if we are successful, we will move to Grants when I retire. She replied that she could not leave her doctors and hospitals in Dallas. I convinced her that everything that she had in Dallas could be obtained here; and so when I retired we came home.
If you have about five hours to spare just ask my wife how she feels about the local doctors and the Cibola General Hospital, she is their best cheerleader.
Editor’s Note: Paul Milan, a contributing Beacon columnist and longtime Cibola County resident, serves as a member on the Cibola General Hospital, Inc. Board. and the Cibola County Historical Society.
Posted Friday, October 18, By Paul Milan, Historical Society, for The Beacon
A few people have asked me why I serve on the [Cibola General] Hospital Board when I should be enjoying retirement at my age.
My response is that a local hospital is one of the most important services that any community could enjoy and that retired people my age will choose a community that has medical facilities and transportation to these facilities or they will move. An investment in a local hospital is one of the most valuable economical development program that a city/county should pursue.
When my family moved to Grants in the 1940s there was no hospital; Dr. Fjord was the only doctor available and at that time he practiced in an old house in back of Caradine’s Drug Store. Dr. Fjord delivered most of the babies at the family’s home. I remember visiting my aunt’s home when her baby girl arrived with Dr. Fjord at the helm.
Mother Whiteside delivered most of the babies before Dr. Fjord opened his practice. My mother said that during the 1920s there was once a doctor in San Rafael who had the first automobile on this side of Valencia County.
My first encounter with medical needs in Grants was when my brother broke his arm and was rushed to Dr. Fjord’s office. Dr. Fjord admitted that he was not a bone specialist. Dr. Fjord set the arm and said that unfortunately my brother would not be able to twist his forearm. A trip to Albuquerque to a bone specialist required that the arm be re-broken and reset, which restored my brother’s arm mobility.
After the war in 1946 I believe a Dr. Harrington had a small clinic with two beds where the PNM Building is now located. My encounter with this facility was in 1947 when I was involved in an auto accident and was rushed to that clinic. Since there wasn’t any equipment to x-ray the doctor assumed that because of the broken ribs I had a punctured lung; and he told my mother that if I was alive in the morning he would operate. Since my father was out of town my mother summoned Ed Baca who had a hearse that also served as an ambulance. After receiving the last sacraments from the local priest I was rushed to St. Josephs Hospital in Albuquerque. My father, who had been in Gallup, arrived after the doctors determined that I was bleeding internally and had lost so much blood that I was almost pronounced D.O.A. (Dead On Arrival). The head nurse told my father not to waste his money because of all the blood that was needed and I would not survive anyway.
A young doctor that had come from the war told my father to let him operate immediately, without testing, because he had saved a lot of lives by immediately operating in the battlefields. My father was a partner in a liquor store in Gallup and he called the Liquor Wholesalers and their workers donated all the blood that I needed.
My father was then informed that I needed 24-hour nursing care so he had to personally hire three nurses on his own and travel to Albuquerque every Saturday to pay them $50 per week at a time when $25 per week was considered high wages.
The orthopedic surgeon told my father that he could not operate on my leg until the internal injuries were healed and to prepare me for the fact that he would likely have to amputate the broken leg. Penicillin had just been introduced and they applied a shot to me every hour on the hour. The only thing that I remember vividly was during the surgery I was floating above the doctors and watched them perform, which I was told later that I had experienced an out-of-body experience.
If this had happened today I would have been taken to the ER at the Cibola General Hospital and diagnosed with the latest equipment, provided with as much blood as needed, and operated by a local surgeon. If a surgeon were not available, they would have transported me to Albuquerque in a helicopter in minutes instead of the hours that it took in 1947. Nurses would have been available 24 hours [a day] at the hospital.
During the late forties and early fifties, Dr. Malcolm practiced out of a house where the Grants State Bank was built in 1958. Dr. Malcolm moved his office to the second story of the P&E Building, which is now the Community Pantry.
When I returned home from college in 1958 the uranium boom brought in a few doctors and most of them had offices in houses. The Anaconda Company had a clinic with at least four beds and allowed non-Anaconda citizens and local doctors to utilize their facilities. My first daughter was born at the Anaconda facility in January. Of course there was a blizzard that night; I slept upright all night in a hard chair and luckily the person who cooked was a family friend; and she fixed me a hearty breakfast.
In 1961 the Cibola Hospital was opened as a result of all the citizens fundraising with donations from the whole community. The new Hospital Board was also able to seek out federal grants and even the first uranium bust in the 1960s did not halt the progress of the hospital. The volunteers continued to raise funds for the operation year around and it seemed that everyone in the community was involved. Almost every woman was a volunteer “Pink Lady” and every family had a teenager who was a “Candy Striper.”
There was an organization of professional women, the Pilots Club, which had year-round fundraisers and a Thrift Shop that provided funds on a monthly basis. The hospital would not have existed if it hadn’t been for the citizens of Grants and Milan working together to achieve a dream of having first-class medical care.
The 1970s brought the big uranium boom and the hospital felt the growing pains and eventually it was obvious that a larger facility was needed. During a boom everybody benefits as well as everyone loses during a bust.
The 1980s brought the bust and the solution in Grants was to partner with Cibola County, which would provide bonding privileges and retain ownership of the building. Cibola General Hospital would continue managing healthcare services. It was a win-win solution with the County at that time receiving $1 per year rent and the citizens would have their health facility.This relationship between hospitals and counties was not unusual throughout the nation. Bernalillo County made the same agreement with the failing Bernalillo Hospital, which is now the UNM Hospital.
During the 1970s I moved to Dallas, Texas, and worked for the Department of Health Education and Welfare, which is now the Department of Health and Human Services. At this particular time all hospitals were looking for partnerships to keep them operating. There were rural towns throughout the nation larger than Grants that did not have doctors or hospitals. I met Cuban refugee doctors throughout the region who were recruited by small towns helping the refugees get certified and offering the Cubans free offices and housing.
After the Vietnam War the office that I worked in had a big responsibility in resettling the Vietnamese refugees at Ft. Smith, Ark. There were rural towns throughout the region (five states) with representatives waiting at the airport to recruit Vietnamese doctors offering homes, offices, equipment and a guaranteed salary.
Since New Mexico was part of my responsibility I remember that Santa Rosa was without a doctor or a hospital; and the city, county officials, and leaders were advertising nationwide offering all kinds of amenities.
I was an Intergovernmental Officer with HEW (now the Dept. of Health and Human Services) and it was my responsibility to work with all levels of state and local governments. I was told that the county government was responsible for the Health and Welfare of the citizens and the County Judge in Texas had the same responsibilities. This gave me the opportunity to visit many counties and attend County Association Conferences; and I was even invited to set up workshops for them.
Most of the officials that I had the pleasure of meeting were aware of their responsibilities and indicated that they would do whatever they could to support the medical and social service organizations and would do everything possible to help them do their jobs. These same officials told me that they were grateful that these Health and Welfare providers were dedicated to providing the services that they were responsible for and letting them as county officials take all of the honors.
Since my wife and two of my children were riddled with diabetes we have spent time in hospitals in Mexico, every hospital in Albuquerque, Las Cruces, and many hospitals in Dallas.
During the 1980s I got involved in acquiring the Grants State Bank with the minority stockholders and I came to Grants at least once a month; and told my wife if we are successful, we will move to Grants when I retire. She replied that she could not leave her doctors and hospitals in Dallas. I convinced her that everything that she had in Dallas could be obtained here; and so when I retired we came home.
If you have about five hours to spare just ask my wife how she feels about the local doctors and the Cibola General Hospital, she is their best cheerleader.
Editor’s Note: Paul Milan, a contributing Beacon columnist and longtime Cibola County resident, serves as a member on the Cibola General Hospital, Inc. Board. and the Cibola County Historical Society.