50 Skilled Nursing Home Beds Disappear
Daily Observer
Recently
50 skilled nursing home beds disappeared from
How
can they be missing? The answer is as
simple as magic, as deceptive as an optical illusion. The beds have been upgraded from skilled
nursing home beds to hospital beds to service the new rehabilitation
hospital.
When
the new Garden State Rehabilitation Hospital was adjacent to the Toms River
Convalescent Center on ground facing the Community Memorial Hospital,
permission was granted by the New Jersey State Planning Council for the
Convalescent center to donate 50 of its beds to the new hospital. The conversion of beds completed, the
community is now minus placement for 50 patients who require the services of a
skilled nursing home.
Of
course the 50 beds could normally be replaced by any entrepreneur who had the
ambition to do so. But in these complex
times such a market place solution is not possible. Unless the entrepreneur received a
certificate of need from the state he could not receive a license to build. The certificate of need is probably an
unconstitutional piece of legislation contrived to protect the monopoly of
existing health facilities, or otherwise stated, to prevent reduplication of
existing health facilities.
The
The
government abhors vacancies in the house its Jack built, and thus clamps a lid
on potential competitors until centrally located computers indicate that an
increase in hospital beds in the area will be no threat to present hospital
occupancy.
Townco Medical Enterprises, Inc. which owns the Toms River
Convalescent Center, the Garden State Rehabilitation Hospital, and the Country
Manor Nursing home received a certificate of need to build 100 beds at Country
Manor to replace those lost at
However,
the beds were not built according to the officers at Townco
because although they applied for permission at the
The
inconveniences foisted on the medical community by this temporary loss of 50
skilled nursing home beds is the result of a squeeze by two commissions with
divergent missions. If a community must
live with the evil of a certificate of need, one would hope that in the process
of depriving a community of new beds, it would protect the old.
Because
Normally
a physician would transfer such a patient to a nursing home close enough so
that he could follow the case. If no
beds are available in a nearby nursing home, a physician would be inclined to
allow his patient a few more days in the hospital until a bed became
available. But Prudential Insurance,
which pays Blue Cross and Medicare bills will not pay for the extra days, as
long as there is an equivalent facility within a 16 mile radius. This decision is based on the premise that
all skilled nursing homes are equivalent and equally desirable.
The
financial pressure exercised by Prudential in threatening not to pay for the
extra days, forces patients to be transferred to domiciles away from the
immediate area. When this happens family
relationships are burdened, and the doctor-patient relationship distorted
because the patient must find a new physician to care for him at the distant
place.
The
point of all this is to illustrate how impersonal and depersonalized the system
has become; how much our freedom has been usurped by the planners who connive
to use computers in the night to dictate to a community the extent of its
needs; how the hapless patient, isolated already by illness, is further imprisoned
by rules, codes and legislation for which there is no one who can be held
accountable, no one who will accept responsibility.
The
administrative procedures that bind our health care system result in a
haphazard authority, a random construct of stifling law which, while it
purports to save the community, will surely strangle the patient.