Anita created the artwork above. The wall they adorn is seen daily by staff and volunteers MercyMed.

Anita went to work with me one weekend. Mom said she needed a little “daddy time”. Anita was having a hard time finding her space in the family being a six-year-old girl, second born of four girls. So off we went to the hospital to see my patients. Our first patient was Mr. Carl, a 51-year-old who was diagnosed with a bad liver because of hepatitis C and would probably die within the next few months. He had been in prison up until 8 months before. At that time, he had moved in with his old girlfriend who had kicked him out when she realized they could not both live off her social security. He then moved in with his brother. And now he was spending all day in the hospital, alone, dying from his disease.

And in walks Anita. She was a little shy at first. Simple sentences, “I’m Anita.” “I am 6 years old” “I am in the first grade.” But soon it became much deeper. “Are you going trick or treating tonight?” He responded, “No, Anita, I have to stay in the hospital.” “Well, I’ll bring you some candy tomorrow.” I prayed for Mr. Carl and when I said “Amen”, his eyes were watering and mine began too as I saw him realize everything he is missing out on dying alone at the age of 51.

The next morning Anita was up and ready. She had her 2 pieces of candy in her hand and then went to her room and took a dime out of her piggy bank. As we drove back to the hospital Anita asked me if Mr. Carl knew Jesus. After a long sad pause, I said, “I do not know Anita.” “Well I think you ought to ask him, Daddy.” I tried a quick move here I learned in father school, “Why don’t you ask him, Anita?” “Daddy, you know him best, you ask him.” We continued driving to the hospital and I became nervous thinking about my future conversation. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I didn’t want to sound foolish. “Daddy, are you going to ask him?” “Yes, of course.” We came up to his door and washed our hands. I pulled up Anita’s sleeves and once again she said “Daddy, are you going to ask him?”

As we went in, Anita walked straight to him and presented him with her little treasure gifts, 2 pieces of candy – and then she almost cried as she realized she lost her dime. Mr. Carl told her that was okay and that he was very grateful for his candy. Anita turned to me, “Daddy, ask him.” – “I will, I will, shhh, just wait a minute.” I went on to explain to him what was going on with his liver, his prognosis, the treatment plan, and procedures being performed – all the while, Anita kept interrupting, “Daddy, ask him.” I felt the need to get through the important stuff – his liver – before talking about Jesus. But somehow Anita knew what was really important, “Daddy, ask him,” for about the sixth time.  “OK, Anita.” I turned to face Mr. Carl with butterflies in my stomach and the proudest 6 year old on my lap that you had ever seen. “Mr. Carl, Anita and I are Christians and she asked me today if I knew if you were a Christian and I did not know. Mr. Carl, do you know Jesus?” He turned to Anita, “Yes Anita, I know Jesus and thanks for asking.”

We stood to pray and this time Anita started first. As we were leaving, Anita turned around again and said, “Mr. Carl, I play the violin, can I play for you someday?” “Anita, that would be wonderful.” As we walked out, Anita was already thinking about when she could play for her new friend. We left the hospital and went directly to church. In church, she had been writing prayer requests on the prayer request cards. Normally it was something like “help me be good in school,” but today it was quite different. “There is somebody in hospital. He is very sick. His name is Mr. Carl. Please pray for him.”

After church, we went home and Anita and her older sister, Jane, picked up their violins and we headed for the hospital. It was the most beautiful music you have ever heard bouncing off the hospital walls. They played every song they knew. Mr. Carl clapped and thanked them for every song. They bowed at the conclusion of their concert and as we walked out, Mr. Carl whispered, “Thank you for bringing your daughters.”

Anita taught me a lot about medicine in just two days. Healing is so much more than just making the right diagnosis and giving a pill. It is worth my inconvenience, two trips to the hospital the same day, to bring joy to someone in need. It is really worth caring for the entire person. Being a doctor is a calling and means of giving away some of the good God has given you, even if it is 2 pieces of candy. And yes, Jesus is more important than the liver. Mommy thought Anita needed a little “Daddy time”, but I think God thought Daddy needed a little “Anita time.”

Thank you for choosing to read. We appreciate the opportunity to share this transparent insight into our ministry through this blog. This Thursday, Nov. 12th, is Georgia Gives Day. Please consider this opportunity to support MercyMed. Every dollar donated goes directly to caring for our patients. Click here to give.

 

By: Dr. Grant Scarborough

 

One day at the clinic, we had a VIP come to be seen. I didn’t know she was coming until I pulled my cursor over my list of appointments and her full name popped up. “Oh snap!” I hopped up, cleaned up my desk, and grabbed my nurse. “A VIP is here,” I told Kristy, “put on your white gloves.” A new volunteer was walking down the hall with the VIP’s paperwork to call her back and I said, “Whoa whoa whoa. Let me see that paperwork, you take the next one – KRISTY! Go get her, do not make her wait.”

 

I went in as soon as she was worked up. I spent a little extra time talking to her. I made a few jokes and talked about her interests some. I was engaged. I placed the computer aside for a second to show her she was more important than work.  I wanted her to think all patients were treated this good. I even got her referrals scheduled before she walked out the door.

 

Let’s face it, we could not afford to run the clinic, which serves people without insurance, without special people helping to make it happen. Medicine is expensive and, without generous friends giving money, we would have to close our doors and no one would be seen. I do not like showing special treatment to anyone, but, as much as she had been involved, I felt I had to give the VIP service. And she got it! She felt loved and cared for. She walked out proud of her investment in MercyMed. As the next patient walked in, she knew he would get that same type of care.

 

But, the next patient was not a VIP.  He was poor man who recently had a stroke. He could wait. I wanted to watch the VIP leave, see her reaction, talk to the staff, and get a quick survey of our medicine product.

 

Then, conviction came in. Well, kind of. Okay, a little conviction. As a ministry we run understaffed. We don’t have the manpower to do everything as quickly and timely as we did for the VIP. I wish we could. All I could think is that I am glad God does not treat me the way I treat people. I pay more attention to them more if they can benefit me.

 

So, I decided the next patient would be a VIP too. I hurried back in to see him and treated him the same way I treated her. I told a few jokes, laughed a little, put the computer to the side, spent too long in the room, and got farther behind. I needed a referral on him as well, so I handed it to my staff and said “VIP, need referral scheduled now.” She looked at the name on the paper and said “VIP?” “They are all VIP’s today,” I replied. She responded with a simple, “yeah, right.”

 

She knew what I knew – we do not have the personnel, manpower, or finances to run a VIP clinic for the poorest of the poor in Columbus. We really desire to and maybe we should change our model, but there are so many hurting in the city – how do you balance? The person I wanted to spend most of my time with today was an elderly black man that lost his job at the meat processing company and was struggling with depression. We have been friends for a long time, but he was really sad today. He needed the VIP treatment and I did spend more time with him. But, what he really needed was to be invited to dinner, a relationship, and an invitation to meet know the God that makes all people VIP’s.

 

I don’t have resolution for the problem, except to admire God who treats us all as VIP’s. We all get the special white glove treatment. We all get the care we need – He has endless resources, endless time, and endless love – He knows exactly what you need and is able to be present with you, deliver, and provide everystep of the way. You are God’s VIP. It does not matter your finances, your skills, your abilities. You are God’s VIP! You are God’s VIP! You are God’s VIP! And it is not because you hit a home run or threw a touchdown – it is simply because the God of Heaven and Earth has chosen you, given you a new heart, set his affection upon you and said, “you are mine!” “Beloved!” “Child” “VIP”

By Dr. Grant Scarborough

 

Faithful? I wasn’t too sure, at least, when he walked into the clinic.

I know him really well and like him a lot. He is tall, black, and muscular with a huge smile. He has long dreadlocks. He looks like a wide receiver or a basketball player or both. I am sure he use to dunk. Have I mention the huge smile? He is mid-thirties and a looker for all the ladies – from the chest up. But if you look further down, you will notice him pushing a rolling walker, shuffling his feet.

Keep looking and you will notice both his feet wrapped with a small tube coming out of the wrapping draining the infection. If you dare unwrap his feet, you will find half his left foot missing and 3-4 toes on right foot gone. Trust me, don’t unwrap the dressing. When odor meets your nose and ulcer meets your eyes, the med students pass out. He has bad diabetes and peripheral vascular disease. If it wasn’t for a wonderful vascular surgeon performing a procedure, he would have lost both feet already. Are you still smiling – because he is!

“God is faithful, doctor.” I wanted to stop him right there and say, “stop it, you cannot be serious,” but I let him proceed. “Yes doctor, I had no idea what I would do without this clinic here. Before I found you, I was getting sicker and sicker and then I found this clinic. Man, God is faithful! The vascular doctor told me if I was a month or two later I would have lost both my legs. You know, God doesn’t always answer my prayers on my time, but He always delivers. I think God brought me through this all so that I can have a testimony for others.”

I don’t want a testimony like that! God give me an easy testimony. I know that sounds bad – but man I love my feet. I love playing with my girls, throwing the Frisbee, swimming, water skiing, and jogging with my wife. I walk the halls of the clinic and the hospital. Imagine if I could no longer walk. Would I smile? Would I feel God was faithful? Would I become depressed and feel forgotten?

I want to follow Christ when it is easy and He does not ask much of me. I want him to deliver on my timetable not His. So often I want a Savior – but then I want to be my own lord so everything goes perfect. My friend found a faithful God in the midst of losing his health. He found a testimony. He found joy. He found his smile. I want what he has, but I desire for it to come easy. Lord give me the courage to say, “may your will be done in my life.”

He pushed out of the office on his rolling walker, feet still wrapped, and with pockets bulging. He stuffed many “Daily Bread”, a small devotional book, into his pockets to assist in his testimony to others. He was going out to tell of his faithful God. He was going out – smiling – knowing God has provided for him.

Lord I pray for my friend, but Lord may he pray for me. May he remind me that life is more than physical health. It is a God in heaven that has set his affection upon us here on earth, a God that is faithful!

By Billy Holbrook

 

“Tommy” is a long time patient of MercyMed. He recently stopped me in the parking lot out back. At first, I thought he mistook me for Dr. Scarborough which happens often. I still recall a lady, at the nearby Marathon, who was convinced I was Dr. Scarborough. She asked my opinion on what I would do for her back pain. Even after I told her that I wasn’t the doctor, she continued to list her ailments. I listened politely and told her to take two aspirin and call the clinic in the morning.

 

Tommy didn’t need the doctor that day. Instead, he was looking to share his story with me. This kind man said our counselor, Peggy, and his doctor, Grant, had done so much for him. He told me that without this clinic, he did not know what he would do. He explained, “MercyMed serves so many people who need help, and I wanted to do something for them because y’all have done so much for me.”

 

I want to pause this story to give you some context. When Tommy started talking, I didn’t want to be interrupted. I just wanted to walk into the clinic and do whatever was on my list inside. I can become so caught up in my own world and quickly slip into a cynic. I assumed I would be asked to give, but my skepticism was quickly replaced by a sense of wonder at the man in front of me. Tommy poured out his heart. He told me how compelled he was, by the Lord, to make a meaningful sacrifice for people he did not know. Shame on me for jumping to conclusions.

 

Tommy told me that he wanted to donate one of his most valuable possessions to the clinic – his drum kit. It was the one he had used years ago to record with his band. He asked Peggy if MercyMed could use it. She explained we didn’t really have space or much of a good use for them. She encouraged him to keep them or perhaps find a musician who could play them. Some time passes, then he comes across an old friend looking for a good drum kit to buy for his son. Tommy shows his friend the drums, makes the sale for $565, comes to MercyMed, and interrupts my routine with a selfless and sacrificial donation to our mission.

 

I was stopped in my tracks by this significant and meaningful gift. Tommy accomplished just what he set out to do. His gift went straight to our mission of providing affordable healthcare. Here’s how: (Pardon my bulleted list.)

• The low end of our sliding fee scale for the uninsured is $25 per encounter.
• Our cost per patient is approximately $75.
• For those who pay us $25 we have a deficit of about $50.
• Tommy covered MercyMed for 11 patient encounters.

 

 

Imagine the Starbucks “pay it forward” you come across in the drive thru, but apply that concept to healthcare for the underserved. Tommy was the guy taking care of it for 11 full appointments.

 

His donation was one of the most meaningful gifts I have witnessed MercyMed receive. No one mailed him an annual report asking for a gift. No one called him and asked him if they could update him on the exciting things happening at MercyMed. He simply experienced the clinic first hand, and wanted to give away his excess to something he really believed in.

 

That’s powerful.

 

I am thankful for the interruption of my day. I am thankful for Tommy’s generosity. He showed mercy here, and he showed mercy to others.

 

by Dr. Grant Scarborough

He was three hours early for his appointment. I hate when that happens. What does he expect, to get worked in early and then make the people who had earlier appointments wait? I don’t think so. But of course he was. There was a gap in the schedule so he slid right in. Rude, but that is how people are nowadays. Just rude.

A middle-aged, small African American man stood up as I walked in the room. He gave me a firm handshake. What’s this guy’s angle? I thought. Does he want drugs? He looked me straight in the eye and talked with confidence as I made small talk. “Where do you work?” I asked. “Popeye’s.” Well, to be honest, I do like Popeye’s chicken. I asked him if he worked at the one by my house. “No, the one on the other side of town.”

As he tells me his tale, I liked him all the more. To be honest, there is not enough good guys’ stories out there – and if you are hiring, you’d better listen up. I will tell it how he told me…
“I interviewed at the one by your house sir. But they had no openings. They told me the one on the other side of town had one. So I immediately walked there in my suit. It was August, mid – 90’s temperature. So when I showed up, I was sweating so bad all my clothes were wet. The manager said it looks like I really wanted to work and asked if I could get started today. I was getting up to start working when he said, ‘no – tomorrow is fine.’ So I walked home, excited about having a job. I have now been there a year. I live about 3-4 miles away. I walk there every morning and walk home at night and have not missed a day the entire year. I leave the house about three hours early so I do not have to walk too fast to be sweating when I arrive at work. Yesterday, they offered me a job promotion. I’m going to take it.”

As I sat back and listened, I was amazed. He walked through rain, sleet, snow, and never missed a day. He spent 3-4 hours a day just walking – I have never wanted a job that bad before. He showed up early every day. His commitment was amazing.

I thanked him for his story and I walked out of the room. I smiled, mumbled something like, “I need to get you a bike.” We laughed. I went into the next room… but something seemed to bother me.
I quickly got up and walked back to see him. “Sir, how did you get here today?” He looked down at his feet, “I walked, of course.” I knew he lived at least four miles away. I knew he got there at eight, for his 11 o’clock appointment. I also knew he was leaving the office and walking to Popeye’s to work. And then I sensed the real problem – it was me that was rude. It was me that thought I knew a person and his motives before walking in a door. It was me thinking I knew the man before meeting the man. It was simply me.

He showed up three hours early out of respect. He left earlier than he needed for his 11 o’clock appointment in case he ran into trouble while walking. He showed me responsibility, courage, and maturity. Oh, to meet more men like this gentlemen. Men like him could change the world.