By Story Bellows
I’ve worked in the fields of connectivity and digital equity for over a decade and have long understood the importance of ensuring that everyone has access to reliable connectivity. As a big city resident, that was — for me — assumed. Then Covid happened, and we moved to upstate New York, a world where connectivity was no longer guaranteed. Although reliable in our home and most of our town, it was far from ubiquitous. But lack of access for us still felt like a personal choice: we hike, and lose connectivity; drive far enough in any direction, the same. I’d obviously seen the role that connectivity plays in the ability to make a call or drive economic development, but had never experienced the immediate and critical benefit in digital equity providing health equity.
Then three weeks ago my daughter, Eliza, had an asthma attack. She was newly diagnosed, and by the time it seemed clear that she needed to go to the hospital, she clearly needed to get there quickly. I drove to the small emergency room in Elizabethtown, a town 15–20 minutes away. Within about thirty seconds from walking in the door, Eliza was being cared for by ER doctor, Neil Krulewitz. Quick treatment notwithstanding, she wasn’t improving, and it became obvious that we were going to head to UVM Med in Burlington, Vermont. At that point, I guessed maybe we’d drive the hour and a half, not fully comprehending the gravity of the situation.
A few minutes later, a video conference unit was wheeled into the room. I had a flashback to talking with clients about how 5G and broadband service could transform rural health, learning about telemedicine and other use cases that seemed really compelling, never thinking that I’d be a direct beneficiary.
Pediatric ER Doctor Dave Nelson soon appeared on the screen, controlling and moving the camera around from the hospital in Burlington to better assess Eliza’s physical situation. I soon learned we were not driving our car or even heading to UVM in an ambulance, but we were going via helicopter — somehow the only clear escalation of the situation that my brain could process. The connection to Burlington provided specialized emergency pediatric expertise that certainly benefited Eliza, another set of eyes monitoring sensors and suggesting dosages of oxygen and albuterol, reassuring the team in our small local hospital. I don’t know what different decisions were made about Eliza’s care based on Dr. Nelson’s presence, but I can speak to what his calming presence meant for me — as a parent. When we arrived in Burlington after the 15 minute helicopter ride, Dr. Nelson was there, reassuring me that everything was going to be fine. Within 15 hours of arrival in Burlington, it WAS fine. Eliza was rid of all tubes and sensors, back to herself, pressing every (literal and figurative) button she could find. Within 48 hours of leaving our house, we were home, armed with a few new prescriptions and protocols, but otherwise physically unchanged.
All’s well that ends well, and for us — for Eliza — it certainly did. There is, however, no doubt that this experience was totally different than it ever would have been if we still lived in the city. Better or worse? I don’t actually know. I am pretty sure there wouldn’t have been a helicopter. I’ve had conversations in the subsequent weeks about the myriad systems that enable rural medicine to function as effectively as we experienced. Nothing’s ever perfect, but the systems worked. That we could walk in an emergency room and have a doctor caring for Eliza within a minute would have seemed unfathomable in Brooklyn. That we were lucky to have creative medical professionals in a small hospital modifying equipment on the fly to fit a two year old, a truly delightful flight team, and teams of excellent medical professionals in Elizabethtown and Burlington seems like exactly what’s supposed to happen.
But just a few years ago we would not have had immediate access to the level of care we did. To have two caring and competent emergency room docs collaborating to ensure Eliza’s good health when only one was physically with us feels like the one of the best use cases for strong connectivity that I can imagine. In an age where most of us take constant connectivity for granted, let’s, for a second, not. Let’s remember that unsexy, underlying infrastructure can enable more equitable health outcomes no matter the zip code or immediate resources…that the infrastructure that links us as individuals and institutions not only improves our lives, but can save them.
