There’s a saying: The future is here, it’s just not evenly distributed. You could say the same for health care. For all our mind-blowing advances in medical tech, the magic wand of technology somehow hasn’t been able to erase the barriers that keep millions of Americans from accessing quality, affordable health care. Sure, we can cry for a systemic overhaul until our throats are sore. In the meantime — in the real world, on a human scale — more deceptively modest endeavors are making a big impact.
I have in mind organizations such as Volunteers in Medicine of Southern Nevada, which recently added a dental clinic to its suite of medical services for the poor. On p. 23, Jason Scavone profiles the program from the vantage point of Jefferey Engle, a client. After Engle’s teeth began to fall out due to diabetes, his self-esteem plummeted and self-image crashed. He eventually took a job as a graveyard-shift security guard, only cementing his sense of isolation. To him, the Volunteers in Medicine program not only provided him a new set of teeth, but a renewed sense of possibility. That alone is a worthy goal; but more importantly, with new research uncovering the link between oral health and total wellness (imagine! your mouth is a freeway onramp for bacteria!), the program is an investment in Engle’s future health as well.
Elsewhere in Nevada, technology is helping to bring aid to those facing a different kind of barrier: distance. In “ No country for sick men” (p. 74), Heidi Kyser dives into a health care crisis confronting rural Nevada, where hospitals, doctors and specialists are often hours away — a headache for check-ups and a nightmare for medical emergencies. But here, too, generous and enterprising minds are finding ways to bridge the gap. In programs such as Project ECHO, specialty doctors use the equivalent of Skype on steroids to confer with rural physicians on their patients. They’re not just treating the sick; they’re sharing knowledge one-on-one with physicians otherwise far-flung from urban medical centers.
Finally, the health care gap takes a deeply personal toll in “‘I swear I will!’” (p. 46), a story about a mother’s epic struggle to find help for her suicidal son — in a city, she learns, with an alarming shortage of mental health resources for children. After countless phone calls, false starts and dead ends, it was only through a lucky break that this mother was able to save her son. How many others aren’t so lucky?
I’d be remiss not to call out this issue’s high notes, of course: Our annual Best Doctors (p. 81) and Top Dentists (p. 87) list some of the valley’s top medical and dental talent. And, finally, for a completely different dose of medicine, Dan Hernandez checks in with the recreational marijuana industry in Colorado ( “Green and gold,” p. 36), and considers what Las Vegas might learn as our grand experiment with medical marijuana possibly blooms into something much bigger.
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Last but not least, I’d like to wish a fond farewell to Desert Companion Publisher Melanie Cannon, who is leaving the position to spend more time with her family. She was much, much more than a name on the masthead. Melanie, the founding publisher of this magazine, was the tireless prime mover behind Desert Companion’s rapid evolution from an annual cultural guide to the valley’s flagship magazine that truly reflects, celebrates and explores (and, yes, sometimes wrestles with) the experience of living in Southern Nevada — and one that does it with integrity, a vital watchword that Melanie branded onto the soul of the publication. Her departure leaves a void, no doubt — but she also leaves a solid foundation upon which incoming Desert Companion Publisher Flo Rogers will continue to build a great magazine.