He’s just finished an overnight shift in the chaotic halls of Methodist Hospital’s emergency department.

It’s a place that sees an average of 270 people come through its doors each day — 106,000 in a year. It’s a place of wonder and a place of shock. It’s a place of the unknown and a place of routine.

Steven Roumpf, M.D., wouldn’t have to work these overnight shifts, caring for gunshot wounds and heart attacks, overdoses and mysterious symptoms.

But he does. He chooses to work as an ER doc, in the trenches, because that’s exactly who Dr. Roumpf is. Humble, caring and never asking someone to do something he wouldn’t do himself.

He’s also the medical director of IU Health Methodist Hospital’s ED.

“To do my administrative job, I still need to be a clinician. I wouldn’t be effective if I wasn’t still practicing and having my feet on the ground,” says Dr. Roumpf. “I need to get out and do what everybody else is doing. That’s what I signed up for.”

And what he signed up for is what he loves. Dr. Roumpf has been at Methodist since 1999, when he came to the hospital for his residency. Nearly seven months ago, he took on the role of director.

The adrenaline rush, the unexpected inside the ED is the lure that has kept the job fresh for Dr. Roumpf.

“There are moments when something happens you just couldn’t have foreseen,” he says. “It’s an exciting place to work. It’s a dynamic place to work. The people here are doing things for the right reason. They are here because they want to be here.”

***
Half of the medical care in the United States comes through the nation’s emergency departments. At Methodist, it’s no different. Just more than 50 percent of the admissions to the hospital in 2017 came in through the ED.  

As director of clinical operations for Methodist’s ED, Dr. Roumpf is in charge of what really is its own medical town. Methodist is a Level I trauma center plopped in the middle of an urban setting.

“I have virtually every resource you can imagine so that’s a great benefit,” says Dr. Roumpf, a married father of two boys. “With that comes some of the sickest patients. We’re a referral center for the entire state, and really beyond that.” 

At his disposal, Dr. Roumpf has a trauma team, cardiologists, neurosurgeons and more. Specialists ready to be at a bedside in minutes.

“On a day-to-day basis, we see the sickest of the sick and we provide the best care in the state,” he says. “And, arguably, we’re the top tier in the country.”

To work in the emergency department, Dr. Roumpf says it takes a certain type of provider.

“You have to be unflappable but, at the same time, you have to be patient,” he says. “I think it takes a real balance of those things, which isn’t always easy.”

But Dr. Roumpf has perfected that art.

***

He was born in Fairbury, Nebraska, a little speck on a map. He lived there until he was 7, when his family moved to Chicago.

There was no science, no medicine in Dr. Roumpf’s family. His father is a Presbyterian minister and his mother is a schoolteacher.

Dr. Roumpf grew up in between two sisters, playing whiffle ball and ice hockey with the neighborhood boys.

In high school, he played tennis and worked at a veterinary office. He helped care for the animals, holding them while they received treatment. On weekends, he came in to clean and feed the animals. It was there he got his first taste of caring for the sick.

For college, Dr. Roumpf headed back to his early childhood home for college, attending the University of Nebraska. He was leaning toward computer science or engineering, but then medicine caught his eye. He decided to stay in Nebraska to attend medical school.

He found himself enamored with the specialties of critical care and trauma surgery. Emergency medicine ended up being the perfect fit; it had variety and an element of the unknown.

Dr. Roumpf came to Methodist for his emergency medicine residency in 1999 – and he never left.

It was all those years ago, nearly 20 years, that Kathy Hendershot first met Dr. Roumpf.

“He was an instant like,” says Hendershot, director of nursing operations for emergency services and behavioral health at Methodist. “He was the kind of person you knew from the start was a keeper, someone you wanted to make an offer to stay after he finished.”

Confident, kind, humble and smart – that’s how Hendershot describes Dr. Roumpf. As a staff physician, he was one of the nurses’ favorite physicians to work with.

“He was always calm, never demanding and treated everyone with the utmost respect — his peers, the patients and the nursing staff,” she says. “He was always willing to help, no matter what. He just always does the right thing.”  

More With Dr. Roumpf

Personal: He is married to Sheila, a dermatopathologist. The couple met in medical school and have two sons, Ethan, 14, and Gavin, 13.

Hobbies: Running, mountain biking, skiing and climbing. The family loves to go on trips together, most involving mountain sports.

Dr. Roumpf on Methodist: “This is an amazing institution. It really is. It’s huge, yet it’s still personable,” he says. “The camaraderie, the loyalty to the people you work with, it’s remarkable. It’s filled with really exceptional and talented people.” 

— By Dana Benbow, Senior Journalist at IU Health.

   Reach Benbow via email dbenbow@iuhealth.org or on Twitter @danabenbow.

When he rang the bell inside the IU Simon Cancer Center seven months ago, Joseluis Gonzalez, 20, was celebrating his last chemotherapy infusion. As he rings in a new year, Gonzalez looks forward to life marked by a full recovery.

At the age of 19 he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. On May 10, 2017, the day after his last college final of the semester, Gonzalez underwent surgery to remove a tumor and two weeks later he started chemotherapy. Under the treatment of IU Health University Hospital urologist Timothy Masterson and oncologist Costantine Albany, Gonzalez has completed two surgeries and three chemo cycles in seven months.

After his final treatment he said, “Cancer doesn’t have to be news that means it’s the end of the world.”

Today he says he is working his way back to the familiar routine he knew before his diagnosis. He has returned to college – studying toward a degree in criminal justice and working regular shifts at Duluth Trading Company. And he is focusing heavily on a talent that helped him navigate his treatment – he chronicled his cancer journey through animated sketches.

“I have relied heavily on my artwork with a better and more focused direction than before,” said Gonzalez, a 2015 graduate of New Palestine High School. Using pen and ink and some paints, he has told his story from beginning to end. One of the latest designs is a tribute to testicular cancer survivorship – a design he wears proudly on the back of a jacket.

“I learned a few things and one of the greatest is that life is too short for a person to focus on anger. I also learned that no matter what the situation is, if you are surrounded by one good person and you are doing what you enjoy most, it feels like things go by faster and you’ve accomplished more than you intended,” said Gonzalez.

He’s also recognized his own emotional strength.

“My Zodiac sign is an ox and I know that there were times I was tired, hurt and felt the weight, but like an ox, I kept moving forward.”

— By T.J. Banes, Associate Senior Journalist at IU Health.
   Reach Banes via email at T.J. Banes or on Twitter @tjbanes.

It was a quiet fall Sunday afternoon on trails buried back in the woods with no one around. Larry Stevens, M.D., was riding his mountain bike.

He was a diehard cyclist, passionate about all kinds of cycling. Road, mountain, even cyclo-cross, a form of extreme racing over trails, grass, steep hills and pavement.

But on this day in 2014, something went wrong. Dr. Stevens went for a jump and flipped over the handlebars.

“Next thing I know, I wake up on the ground, blood pouring down my face,” says Dr. Stevens, the medical director of surgery at IU Health Methodist Hospital. “I had this intense pain in my neck and head.”

But no one was around to help. So, Dr. Stevens hopped back on his bike, rode out of the trails and drove himself to the hospital.

There, he received unthinkable news.

He had suffered a concussion, nasal fracture and nasal laceration. But, most severely, Dr. Stevens had a spinal cord injury to the C4 vertebrae. Most people with that injury need 24-hour round the clock breathing support. Most are paralyzed.  

“So, it’s miraculous, an incredible blessing I’m not a quadriplegic right now because it broke in four different places,” Dr. Stevens says. “Somehow, all the pieces stayed where they were and didn’t impinge on the spinal canal.” 

They remained intact even as he rode out of those woods, even as he drove to the hospital.

“It is a miracle,” Dr. Stevens says, “absolutely.”

He is sitting in his office at Methodist, talking about how he’s given up mountain biking and cyclocross. But he still loves to ride, mostly the road variety of cycling.

Dr. Stevens’ other passion is evident in the career he chose and the way he talks about it. That passion is helping people. Dr. Stevens is a surgeon. He started out in abdominal transplant, but after five years moved to laparoscopic surgery.

Fifty percent of his time now is spent on administrative duties as Methodist’s operating room director, leading 400 employees, more than 100 surgeons and 100 anesthesiologists. He is also one of the medical co-directors for quality with IU Health Physicians. And, a few months ago, he joined the board of directors at IU Health.

But Dr. Stevens still insists on caring for patients and he still spends about half his time in the operating room, performing mostly gall bladder, hernia and hiatal surgeries.

“You truly get to help people and make a difference in the world,” says Dr. Stevens, the married father of three grown children. “Always remember why you started in the first place. It’s about caring for others.”

***

Dr. Stevens grew up in a tiny town called Crandall, Ind. At the last U.S. Census, the population was 152 people.

As a farm kid, he milked cows, baled hay, planted crops and helped the neighbors on their farms, too.

The oldest brother to one sister, Dr. Stevens played a lot of sports, but he was mostly a bench warmer. He was the first in his family to go to college.

His grandfather dropped out of school after eighth grade to work on the family farm. His dad was a smart man, but never had the opportunity to go beyond high school. He worked as a farmer part time and was a paralegal in Louisville, commuting to the city each day.

And Dr. Stevens was on his way to following in the family farming footsteps, with plans to go to Purdue University for an agriculture degree.

Until something fascinating happened.

The area the Stevens family lived in was so rural, there was no ambulance service.

“So, literally, without exaggeration, if you were in an accident the hearse from the funeral home would come pick you up to take you to the hospital,” says Dr. Stevens, “because it was the only vehicle in the county that somebody could lie down in.” 

When Dr. Stevens’ neighbor started a volunteer rescue squadron to go to accident scenes and stabilize victims until the hearse could arrive, his dad highly encouraged him to be part of that squad.

As Dr. Stevens puts it, “dad voluntold me to participate in the rescue squadron and do something productive with myself.”

So, he went to high school classes during the day and EMT school at night.

“I discovered I had a passion for it,” he says. “I withdrew my application from Purdue and submitted an application to IU to go the pre-med route.”

Dr. Stevens likes to joke he has “one of the most boring resumes on the planet.”

He went to school at Indiana University for both his undergraduate degree and medical school. He did his residency in general surgery at Methodist, when the hospital had its own residency program.

He spent a couple of years at the University of Chicago for a transplant surgery fellowship and then came back to Indianapolis. He started at Methodist in 1991 and has been here since.

His philosophy on treating patients:

“You talk about bedside manner, but it’s really more than that. It’s how you relate to people. Is this simply a technical exercise? Or are you caring for the person?” Dr. Stevens says. “People trust you to do this. People are granting you incredible privilege to insert yourselves into their lives and, ultimately, help them. So, it’s less about bedside manner and more about trying to build a relationship.”

Advice for new surgeons:

“What I tell anyone in healthcare is healthcare’s tough. It’s constantly changing. But it’s still incredibly important and an incredibly rewarding profession,” he says. “You truly get to help people and make a difference in the world. When you get discouraged, remember why you started in the first placed. It’s about caring for others.”

More With Dr. Stevens

Personal: He is married to Jilaine, whom he met at Methodist when he was an intern and she was a nursing student. She now works at the hospital in the pre-admission testing area. Dr. Stevens has one son, Adam, from a previous marriage. He and Jilaine have two children, daughter Taylor, 24, a sophomore medical student at IU; and son Austin, 22, a mechanical engineering major at the University of Mississippi.

Hobbies: Cycling, salt-water fishing and reading. He and his wife are both foodies. Dr. Stevens once took a weeklong cycling vacation in northern Italy. There was also a time he fancied himself a race car driver. He and Jilaine love Sanibel Island and just purchased a home there. They have a Maltese dog named Ellie.

Favorite quote from a patient: A man came in who, in his lifetime, had been in a motorcycle crash and broken his leg and had fallen from a cliff and broken his shoulder. Dr. Stevens told him,
“My, you’ve had a rough time.” “He looked at me and said, ‘Doc I would rather wear out than rust out,’” Dr. Stevens says. “That’s a great philosophy. Live life instead of sitting around.”

— By Dana Benbow, Senior Journalist at IU Health.

   Reach Benbow via email dbenbow@iuhealth.org or on Twitter @danabenbow.

Barb Mathauer has had diabetes for more than 20 years. She first tried to control it with diet and now she’s on medication. She’d like to get back to focusing more on her diet.

So on a recent Tuesday night she sat around a table and joined an informal discussion about setting goals in the New Year. Nurse Angela Madden a certified diabetes educator led the discussion.

“The hardest thing for me is eating three meals a day and trying to get enough sleep,” said Mathauer, who recently lost her husband. “I feel better when I eat right and take care of myself, I just need a little encouragement.”

On the second Tuesday of every month, Mathauer and others diagnosed with diabetes can find that encouragement at a support group. The group meets at various locations – including local libraries. Topics include: “Diabetes and stroke;” “Monitoring diabetes and what to do with your results;” and “Foot and Heart Care.”

Participants recently shared recipes and resources including information about a mobile app – “IU Health My Diabetes Tracker.” The app was created by Indiana University Health to help patients and their families manage their diabetes. The app helps track insulin dosage and blood sugar, set up medication reminders and log nutrition and activity. Patients can also receive messages from their healthcare providers.

“Diabetes isn’t just about food, but food is a big part of our culture,” said Madden. She encouraged participants to plan ahead when eating out (even review the menus online) and reviewed the “seven self-care behaviors” provided by the American Association of Diabetes Educators:

• Health Eating
• Being Active
• Monitoring
• Taking Medication
• Problem Solving
• Healthy Coping
• Reducing Risks

The next Diabetes Support Group meets February 13 at Irvington Library. All meetings are from 6-7 p.m. Learn more about upcoming meetings, topics, and how to subscribe to the monthly diabetes newsletter here.

– T.J. Banes

As a child, Grace Walke remembers playing “nurse” with one of her favorite toys. The Hedda Bedda Doll popular in the 1960s was known for its three faces. With the turn of a knob the doll changed from a sad face, to a sleeping face and then to a face covered in spots – like chicken pox or measles.

“The doll came with a hospital bed and I can remember taking care of her like a real patient,” said Walke, whose mother is also a nurse.  She grew up on the west side, graduated from Our Lady of Grace High School, and went straight to nursing school. Her first job was as a student nurse at the former Robert Long Hospital where she worked on the Med/Surg unit. She’s been with IU Health ever since.  She has worked in anesthesia since 2001.

“I’ve known Grace for a long time. She’s our go-to person with anesthesia,” said her supervisor Linda Allanson. “She’s the first person I go to with an emergency.”

Starting her shift at 6:30 a.m. Walke reviews the schedule for the day and begins making assignments for the team of nurses working in anesthesia.

“We are there when the patient gets in the room. We turn monitors on, set up lines, and talk to the patient,” said Walke. “There’s a lot of activity in OR and I want the patient to know there is someone there focusing on them. I can size them up pretty quickly and tell if they want to cry, joke or just be quiet. A lot of people are nervous. One of my favorite things is holding their hand and when I’m not holding their hand, I’m still right there, checking their pulse.”

Walke has been recognized for her commitment to her profession and positive attitude with an IU Health Values Leadership Award. In addition to her bedside nursing she serves as an instructor for Anesthesia Boot Camp, a preceptor for new Anesthesia nurses, and an instructor of an OR Fellowship program section. She is also a Past Presidents Circle of Honor Recipient from the American Society of PeriAnesthesia Nurses (ASPAN).

Here are a few more things about Walke:

• Her grandmother is from Slovakia and lived with Walke’s family for a time. Walke learned to speak Slovak before she spoke English.
• Her self-appointed title is “The Answer Queen” because when people come to her with questions, she’ll search to find the answers.
• She loves to read fiction. Author recommendation: Canadian mystery writer Louise Penny.
• She enjoys attending theater productions. Recommendations: “The Book of Mormon,” “Kinky Boots,” “Wicked” and “Hamilton.”
• It might surprise people to know . . . she hiked the Grand Canyon; has gone whitewater rafting (multiple times); ridden in a hot air balloon, participated in a medical mission trip to Vietnam, and stuck her toes in the Arctic Ocean in Barrow, Alaska.

— By T.J. Banes, Associate Senior Journalist at IU Health.
   Reach Banes via email at T.J. Banes or on Twitter @tjbanes.

Seconds. That’s all it takes to react to symptoms. Those seconds could mean the difference between life and death.

Cardiologist Ali Farooq Iqtidar recently spoke at a Fishers YMCA luncheon series, providing information about identifying and reacting to symptoms of heart attack.

“The goal is to recognize the symptoms, react to the symptoms, seek the best care and return to a normal life,” said Iqtidar, assistant professor of medicine, IU School of Medicine and an interventional cardiologist serving patients at IU Health Saxony. The Advanced Heart Care Program at IU Health provides a multidisciplinary approach to evaluation, treatment, and follow-up of cardiovascular diagnosis.

Following are other facts about heart attacks and heart health:

• The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention report about 610,000 people die of heart disease in the United States every year – one in every four deaths.
• Heart disease is the leading cause of death for both men and women.
• Every year about 735,000 Americans have a heart attack. Of these, 525,000 are first heart attack and 210,000 happen in people who have already had a heart attack.
• The Heart Foundation includes the following risk factors for heart disease: Age (As you get older, risk factors increase); Gender (Men are at a higher risk than women); Family history of heart disease, stroke, or diabetes. Other factors include: Smoking, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and diabetes.
• Symptoms of heart attack vary among individuals but may include: Pressure in the chest area; pain or discomfort in the back, arms, jaw or neck area; and shortness of breath, nausea or lightheadedness
•  Iqtidar listed the following reasons people often fail to react to symptoms of a heart attack: Denial, inability to recognize the symptoms or and mistaking the symptoms as something else such as indigestion, and fear of drawing attention to themselves.

“The important thing is that the quicker you seek medical attention, the quicker we can lessen the damage to the heart. Time is of essence,” said Iqtidar.

— T.J. Banes

Her hair is growing back. It is one of the first things Elizabeth Sutherlin tells people who ask about her. It’s just one way she relates to guests at IU Health Saxony who have shared her experiences with cancer.

She was on the drive back from Iowa 10 years ago after caring for her ailing mother when Sutherlin had a thought. “If I could be a caregiver for my mom, maybe I’d be a good fit for a hospital.”

Her interests were in customer relations and she landed a job on the front line greeting patients as they arrive at the hospital. “People come in frightened and confused, I just like helping them whether it’s giving them directions or helping to calm their nerves,” said Sutherlin.

The day before Thanksgiving of 2016, Sutherlin learned she had cancer. Under the care of IU Health oncology Drs. Hillary Wu and Jeanne Schilder a treatment plan was started to address Sutherlin’s diagnosis. The Squamous cell carcinomas also known as epidermoid carcinoma started in the lymph nodes of her groin. She was treated with chemotherapy and then surgery.

She was away from her job for seven months during treatment. During that time, her co-workers organized meals and encouraged her to keep up her strength, she said.

“I can’t say enough about my team of caregivers. People were so compassionate and my doctors explained things so I could understand,” said Sutherlin, who is affectionately called “Buff” by friends and co-workers. “This experience has taught me that cancer touches everyone in some way. Everyone has a story to tell and I just want to give them hope that we have the best doctors, this is the best hospital and they will get through it.”

— By T.J. Banes, Associate Senior Journalist at IU Health.
   Reach Banes via email at T.J. Banes or on Twitter @tjbanes.

A Gin Blossoms song is playing inside Andrew DeNardo’s office, where he sits next to a computer with a screensaver of a bright red Ducati motorcycle.

There is a woodworking magazine on his desk – next to a piece of paper where he’s sketched an amazingly easy-to-understand drawing of the complex world he works in.  

Interventional neuroradiology. Aneurysms. Strokes. The brain and the spine. Life threatening conditions.

But that’s Andrew DeNardo, M.D. He’s anything but pretentious. He describes himself as a “brain plumber.”

“It’s all plumbing. Or, sometimes, I tell people I’m a cardiologist for the brain,” says Dr. DeNardo. “I deal with the blood vessels in the head and in the spine. But most of it’s in the head. And so if it’s leaking, we plug it up. If it’s plugged up, we open it.”

Dr. DeNardo does it all with a kind word and a compassionate heart. And with a bit of flair.

He loves to ride motorcycles – he owns two red Italian models, the Ducati and a Moto Guzzi. When the weather is good, he rides to work on those bikes and saves lives.

He also relishes the time in his woodshop, crafting salt and pepper shakers, cutting boards and all sorts of other knick knacks. He’s down to earth in a way that’s contagious.

Perhaps, that has to do with his upbringing. After all, he spent his summers as a young man in the world of construction.

***

Dr. DeNardo grew up in Pennsylvania. His father is a civil engineer and owned a construction company. In the summers, every year up until his second year of medical school, Dr. DeNardo worked road construction, highways.

Yes, this doctor who cures the delicate brains of his patients used be a mean jackhammer user. He looks back on those days fondly.

Dr. DeNardo didn’t know as a young boy that he would be a medical doctor. But he knew he liked the sciences and went to the University of Virginia for his undergraduate degree.

He was thinking of a major in chemistry until he saw what the university PhD folks did in chemistry.

“I was a little less enthused. I wanted to do something a little more with people, so I decided I wanted to go into medicine,” he says. “But going into medicine without anybody in my family in medicine was kind of just a big mystery.”

He went to medical school at Temple University in Philadelphia and decided on radiology. From there, he returned to University of Virginia to do radiology training — and then neuroradiology and interventional neuroradiology training. 

“It’s stroke patients, aneurysm patients, patients with blood vessel problems in the head,” Dr. DeNardo says. “There are different blood vessel malformations where you have the arteries abnormally connected to the brain. That can cause bleeding and or stroke. We try to cut off those abnormal connections.”

Dr. DeNardo came to IU Health in 1994 and has quietly done amazing work with his team at IU Health Methodist Hospital. That team includes John A. Scott, M.D., Richard Paulsen, M.D., and Daniel Sahlein, M.D.

***

The stroke intervention volume at Methodist doubled –- both from 2015 to 2016 and from 2016 to 2017.

It’s not that more people are having strokes. It’s that the endovascular approach to stroke has become scientifically proven – and used more frequently.  

In 2005, the team was treating, at most, 10 strokes a year, Dr. DeNardo says. In 2017, it treated 150.

When it comes to aneurysms, the interventional neuroradiology program is the top five in the country for using the Pipeline stent, a procedure that uses a micro catheter to navigate past the aneurysm without having to enter the aneurysm.

Almost immediately, blood flow to the aneurysm is reduced. And by six weeks to six months, complete closure of the aneurysm typically occurs.

“It allows blood to go through to small blood vessels slowly over time grows,” Dr. DeNardo says. “As a former concrete guy, I think rebar.”

The work Dr. DeNardo’s team has done in advancing their field at Methodist is tremendous, says Judi Jacobi-Mowry, critical care pharmacy specialist at Methodist.

“They take call from home with new technology. They can look at a scan from anywhere, and that provides a rapid response for patients,”  she says. “They are second to none — low key, but fantastic at what they do.” 

More With Dr. DeNardo

Personal: He is married to Diane, his high school sweetheart, and has two grown sons. The family has two Irish wolfhounds, Sona and Jenna, and two Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, Louie and Buddy.

Hobbies: Running, motorcycle riding and woodworking.

Bonus: Dr. DeNardo invented a device for closing the hole in the groin after procedures.

— By Dana Benbow, Senior Journalist at IU Health.

   Reach Benbow via email dbenbow@iuhealth.org or on Twitter @danabenbow.

On any given day, Angie Shah can be seen working in various areas of IU Health University Hospital. But the areas of the hospital aren’t her focus. It’s the patient in her care. Intensive care, outpatient, oncology, transplant – Shah sees patients who come to University Hospital seeking the best care possible. These patients require complex care that can only be provided in an academic hospital with the latest technology and advances in medicine, said Shah.

“Radiology intrigued me – knowing that I am assessing the patient and I’m an integral part of the healthcare team in diagnosis and care,” said Shah, 43. She came to IU Health 23 years ago working in radiology film loan while in x-ray school. She then worked as an x-ray tech while going through the Bachelors program to become an ultrasound tech. For the past nine years she’s served as team leader for University Ultrasound. In May she graduated with her Masters of Science as a Radiologist Assistant – an advanced practice of patient care that heightens her role assisting the radiologists with patient assessment, patient management and radiological procedures.

In a typical day Shah is performing ultrasounds for such purposes as assessing organs, and reviewing blood flow and pathology – all in the name of patient care. It’s a science that fascinates her and a career that keeps her close to the spirit of her upbringing.

A graduate of Connersville High School, Shah is the second oldest of four. Her mother is a nurse and both parents worked hard on the family farm.

“Cows, pigs, sheep, goats, grain – we did it all. When I was growing up it was required to help.  My parents taught me the value of hard work and dedication. Those values instilled in me at a very young age, have helped me achieve success in my career,” said Shah.

Four years ago, at the age of 67, Shah’s father died as a result of a heart attack.  Over the years, Shah has been an advocate for organ donation – knowing the difference it makes in the lives of the transplant patients she sees daily. She didn’t know until his passing what an impact she had on her father’s final decisions. She learned then that he had made that lasting gift.

“He was a simple man,” said Shah. “Very humble, friendly, quiet, with a gentle, caring spirit.”

Working with transplant patients is one of Shah’s greatest passions. Another passion is teaching others about ultrasound as a means to improving healthcare. She has traveled to Kenya five times through a consortium of North American academic health centers, led by Indiana University. The program, based at Moi University, Moi Teaching and Referral Hospital works in partnership with the Kenyan government emphasizing training, research, and care to address the challenges of global health. Shah will return to Kenya in January. Each time, she spends two to four weeks working with a team of healthcare providers.

“The best advice I was given by my friend and colleague Dr. Marc Kohli when I went the first time was to go with no expectations. It was very humbling,” said Shah, who married Himanshu Shah, department chair of radiology in 1997. Over the years, the couple has hosted radiologists from Kenya who are part of the program.

“They have become friends. I know their families and one of the most rewarding aspects is being able to educate them and help them work toward becoming self-sustaining,” said Shah. She and her husband are parents to two daughters Mackenzie, a freshman at IU, and Jasmine, a sophomore at Zionsville H.S.

Shah loves to travel with her family and has traveled to at least half of the states in the U.S.

“I don’t think you truly realize what you have to offer in your career until you are older,” said Shah. “It’s when you start to see things and become more involved that you come into your own and realize how you are going to interact with people to obtain a common goal.

“One of the things I love the most about my job is working with wonderful coworkers and colleagues and getting to know and help new patients. It’s a joy to watch them progress – especially the transplant patients who come in so sick and then you watch them go through their journey to getting better.”

— By T.J. Banes, Associate Senior Journalist at IU Health.
   Reach Banes via email at T.J. Banes or on Twitter @tjbanes.

He’s sitting there in his light blue polo with that smile — that huge, contagious smile. The smile that more often than not erupts into laughter.

Jim Rednour sees no use in being dismal – ever. Life’s too short. And so each day as he checks patients in at IU Health Methodist Hospital’s catheterization lab, he smiles and cracks jokes.

On this day, an elderly man walks up to the window. Rednour, the chief cath lab welcomer (officially a system patient access associate), asks for his name — and for a signature.

“I just need an autograph,” he says, as the man signs the paperwork. “We’re going to try to sell it on eBay.”

The man looks up almost in shock. He had seemed a little nervous. Now, he’s chuckling down to his core. Rednour laughs with him, then offers the man reading material, tells him to relax and sit down with his family.

In other offices, patients sit in front of the person typing on a computer while they are registered.

“My philosophy is, ‘Do they want to sit here staring at me working on a computer when they could be with their family?’” Rednour says. “No, they don’t.”

Rednour registers them, and then walks out to the waiting room to put on their wristbands.

“I try to think if this was my family here,” he says, “how I would want them to be treated.”

***

After a nearly two-decade career in the phone industry, Rednour went to work for a temp agency 18 years ago.

He was given a choice of three jobs. The first: Sit in a corner and do numbers, no contact with people, but great pay. The second: A mid-level income job. Or the third: Transport patients in wheelchairs at a hospital. It was the lowest paying job.

“I said, ‘That’s my thing. It’s people. I love that,’” he says.

So, 18 years ago, Rednour came to Methodist and he did love it. He loved connecting with patients, being a bright spot in their day. And learning the landscape.

“I know all the little nooks and crannies all over the hospital thank you very much,” says Rednour, an openly gay male in a long-term relationship, who serves on IU Health’s diversity panel.

Rednour did his job so well at Methodist, he quickly landed a full-time job. He has worked as a transporter, a unit secretary, in pre-admission and, for the past eight years, checking patients in at the cath lab.

“The thing that makes it perfect is I’ve had three catheterizations on my heart,” he says. “I’m the guy who has been there done that. I can’t tell you about the medical jargon, but I can tell you how it feels, how it’s going to impact you emotionally.”

Rednour is attuned to his patients’ feelings. He truly cares, says Jim Porter, patient flow coordinator at the cath lab. And he cares about anyone who walks into the lab, even if they’re not his patients.

“Jim doesn’t let them go any further than this door without them knowing exactly where they need to be next,” Porter says. “Jim will make phone calls and find out where they are supposed to be.”

Rednour will even personally escort patients across the hospital to make sure they get to the right spot.

“Patients love that,” Porter says. “That’s really the standard of care that he gives. And he shows that same consideration to the patients here.”

For the regulars at the cath lab, Rednour has become a comforting sight. They know they need not worry when he is around.

Rednour says he thinks people appreciate that he is an open book.

“I do make myself known. I talk about my partner. People do like the idea that I’m open about being gay at my age when I had to struggle so much to get here,” he says. “That’s really all it’s about with anything – just truly being yourself.”

— By Dana Benbow, Senior Journalist at IU Health.

   Reach Benbow via email dbenbow@iuhealth.org or on Twitter @danabenbow