Tag Archives: Immanuel Hospital

Radical Simplicity

November 19, 2015 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

Ron Dotzler grew up in defiance. The small town of Defiance, Iowa, that is.

“I’ve been rebellious ever since,” he says with a chuckle.

That’s a good thing for his home of the last four decades—a city some have referred to as the most dangerous place in America to be black.

According to a 2014 report by the Violence Policy Center, a Washington, D.C., research and advocacy center, 30 black people were murdered in Nebraska in 2011, the latest year for which data was available. Of them, 27 were murdered in Omaha. That put the state’s black homicide rate at 34.4 per 100,000 people—twice the national average. And in Omaha alone, Dotzler points out, the FBI reports an average of 23,000 major felony incidents each year.

Dotzler has seen the devastation firsthand. Four years after moving to north Omaha, two girls in his neighborhood were murdered. That’s what got his defiant nature fighting back.

“That was kind of the straw that broke my back,” Dotzler says. “I felt like God was saying to me, ‘Ron, will you give me your life so other children won’t have their lives cut by violence?’”

The murders made him ever more committed to Abide, the inner-city nonprofit he and his wife, Twany, had launched in 1989.

Abide works “one neighborhood at a time,” helping develop healthy communities through four main foci: community building, family support programs, housing, and partnerships. It has become one of the most successful—and increasingly well-known—nonprofits affecting change in Omaha.

But significant change didn’t come until 2007, when Abide altered its strategy. Most importantly, Abide began a holistic, grassroots tactic of “adopting” neighborhoods. With partners and volunteer power, the nonprofit began mowing lawns, cleaning litter, fixing abandoned properties, and more. They got to know neighbors personally. Relationships were built and change followed. People felt safer. Crime went down.

Law enforcement officers wanted to know what was happening. They were pointed to Abide. “The police showed up and said, ‘We don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s working,’” Dotzler says.

With help from partner Lifegate Church, Abide has since adopted more than 100 neighborhoods with help from 15 partners and more than 8,000 volunteers each year. They have targeted 600 other neighborhoods to adopt.

Abide also establishes “Lighthouses,” abandoned homes that are fixed up and occupied by families. More than 30 Lighthouses have been established since 2009.

It has three community centers and offers family support and employee development programs, plus basketball and swimming programs for children. It throws block parties, hosts grill-outs, and stages Easter egg hunts. Abide’s annual budget has grown to nearly $1.5 million.

Dotzler, 57, is board president. Son Josh, the former Creighton University basketball star, now is Abide CEO. Three other Dotzler children—Ron and Twany have 14 total—also are employees. Abide has 24 full-timers and 11 who work as paid, part-time interns. The organization’s work has earned recognition from Omaha Mayor Jean Stothert and Nebraska Gov. Pete Ricketts.

Dotzler says Abide doesn’t “market itself as the savior” of north Omaha. “We’re just one entity” among others working to make things better, he says. They’re just trying to “put the neighbor back in the hood.”

And those neighbors include Dotzler and his family.

Abide headquarters is a former Immanuel Hospital boiler facility on Fowler Street. The building doubles as the Dotzler home.

The family originally moved to north Omaha from Millard in 1988. Dotzler had worked as a chemical engineer in the computer industry but felt called “to really invest in the lives of others.” To him, that meant mission work overseas. The Dotzlers sold their house and many of their possessions, but needed a temporary place to live before deciding where they would serve. A friend said he could stay rent-free at his house in north Omaha—if Dotzler fixed it up while he was there. It needed more than a bit of work.

“I had grown up around pests, but not roaches like I saw in that house,” he says.

He was more shocked, though, by what he saw outside. “I started seeing the brokenness of lives like I’d never experienced before,” he says. “I saw more police in a couple weeks living in north Omaha than I saw in my whole life. I’d never dialed 911, and suddenly it began to be on my speed dial.”

In north Omaha today, he says, nine out of 10 homes are headed by a single parent. And at least 70 percent of families, he estimates, don’t own their own homes.

That’s radically unlike his childhood home in Defiance, Iowa, a small, rural community halfway between Denison and Harlan.

“I grew up with a mom and dad in the household, and the whole culture surrounding you had that kind of parental influence,” he says. “There was an infrastructure in rural Iowa. You were on the same page. There was a culture of understanding. We were all working toward the same things.

“In urban settings the autonomy is so greatly individualized and independence is so great that you don’t have those connections anymore.”

Before moving to north Omaha, Dotzler says he was “cold, callous, judgmental, and critical” of those living in the inner city.

No longer.

Now, he abides with them.

“We’ll never see the brokenness of crime and violence transformed,” Dotzler says, “until the brokenness of crime and violence transforms us.”

Visit abideomaha.org to learn more.

Dotzler-1

From Patients to Caregivers

February 25, 2013 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

Margaret Ludwick spends her days sitting in a wheelchair at a senior care center in Elkhorn. She never speaks. The only expressive motion involves her hands—she constantly puts her long, tapered fingers together like a church steeple. Her big blue eyes stare straight ahead but focus on nothing. No one can reach her anymore, not her daughters, not her husband.

Alzheimer’s, the most common form of dementia in adults 65 and over, robs even the most intelligent people of their brain and eventually destroys their body. There is no cure. There is no pill to prevent it. There’s not even a test to definitively diagnose it. Effective treatments have proven as elusive as the disease, itself.

“We do have medications that may help with symptoms in some patients, especially in the early stages of Alzheimer’s,” says Dr. Daniel Murman, a specialist in geriatric neurology at The Nebraska Medical Center. “But they don’t truly slow down the disease process.”

According to researchers, the number of Americans living with Alzheimer’s will triple in the next 40 years, which means 13.8 million will have the disease by 2050 (Chicago Health and Aging Project research as reported by nbcnews.com).

Awareness of symptoms is crucial for early intervention.

“Memory loss and changes in behavior are not a normal part of aging,” stresses Deborah Conley, a clinical nurse specialist in gerontology at Methodist Health Systems who teaches other nurses and caregivers about Alzheimer’s. “I would urge family members to take [their loved one] to a family physician first, seek as much information as possible, and start making your plans.” An assessment that includes the person’s medical history, brain imaging, and a neurological exam can result in a diagnosis that’s about 85 percent accurate for Alzheimer’s.

Ludwick, a registered nurse, who worked at Immanuel Hospital for years, never received an extensive workup.

 “I would urge family members to take [their loved one] to a family physician first, seek as much information as possible, and start making your plans.” – Deborah Conley, clinical nurse specialist in gerontology at Methodist Health Systems

“I first noticed something was wrong about 15 years ago, when Mom was 70,” explains Ludwick’s daughter, Jean Jetter of Omaha. “It was the day I moved into my new house. Mom put things in odd places, like a box labeled ‘kitchen’ would wind up in the bedroom. And she stood smack in the middle of the doorway as the movers tried to carry large pieces of furniture inside, and she just stared at them.”

As Ludwick’s behavior grew worse, Jetter begged her father, Thomas, to get her mother help.

“He didn’t want to hear it. He kept saying, ‘This will get better.’ He had medical and financial Power of Attorney. Dad worked full-time, and she was home alone. This went on for eight years.”

Ludwick’s steady decline rendered her unable to fix a meal or even peel a banana. She lost control of bodily functions. After she was found wandering the neighborhood on several occasions, Jetter was finally able to call Adult Protective Services and get her mother into an adult daycare program. After breaking a hip two years ago, Ludwick arrived at the Life Care Center of Elkhorn.

“This is such a sad, but not unfamiliar case,” says Conley, who began working with Alzheimer’s patients in the mid-’70s. “Even in 2013, people do not know what to do, where to turn.”

Dr. Murman adds, “There is still a stigma attached to Alzheimer’s. People don’t like to hear the ‘A’ word. But it’s much better to be open and specific about it.”

A specific diagnosis may rule out Alzheimer’s.

“Depression can mimic the symptoms of Alzheimer’s…symptoms like mistrust, hallucinations, apathy, social isolation,” explains Dr. Arun Sharma, a geriatric psychiatrist with Alegent Creighton Health. “But we can treat that. We can treat depression.”

Dr. Sharma helped establish a 22-bed, short-term residential facility called Heritage Center at Immanuel Hospital to better diagnose the reasons for a person’s memory loss. Once a patient is stabilized and receives a proper care plan, they can return home. The more doctors learn, the faster a cure will come.

“I see something exciting in the next five to 10 years,” says Dr. Sharma. “If we identify and isolate the protein believed responsible for Alzheimer’s, perhaps we can do a blood test to catch the disease early.”

 “There is still a stigma attached to Alzheimer’s. People don’t like to hear the ‘A’ word. But it’s much better to be open and specific about it.” – Dr. Daniel Murman, specialist in geriatric neurology at The Nebraska Medical Center

But what about a cure? With 78 million Baby Boomers coming down the pike—10,000 of them turning 65 each day—this country faces an epidemic. And what about the psychological, financial, and emotional toll on the caregivers, who are very often family members? They, too, feel isolated.

“It was an impossible situation for me. I couldn’t get her the help she needed,” says Jetter, who bore the brunt of the family crisis since her married sister lives in Dallas. “Now that Mom is at [the nursing home], I can take a breather and concentrate on Dad, who also has mental issues.”

In recent weeks, her father, Thomas, has been admitted as a permanent resident of Life Care Center of Elkhorn as well.

What about her own family?

“I have no one. No husband, no boyfriend. I mean, what boyfriend would put up with all this?” asks Jean, who’s been shuttling between one parent and the other for years, all the while trying to run her own business. The situation has obviously taken a huge personal toll.

Conley has two words for anyone facing similar circumstances: Alzheimer’s Association. The Midlands chapter has support groups, tons of information, and can gently guide the adult child or spouse. They even have a 24/7 hotline: 800-272-3900.

For anyone dealing with Alzheimer’s, that number could become a lifeline.