The Inside Press

Magazines serving the communities of Northern Westchester

surgery

Northwell Appoints Regional Medical Director of Surgical Services

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Kenneth Goldstein, M.D., to lead Northwell’s Northern Region Ambulatory Surgical Specialties

Kenneth Goldstein, MD, has been appointed regional medical director of ambulatory surgical services for Northwell Health’s Northern region. In this role, Dr. Goldstein will identify and incorporate best practices for ambulatory services across surgical specialties within the region. He will also establish quality metrics and goals and initiate process improvement programs.

As regional medical director of surgical services, Dr. Goldstein’s role will expand considerably, and his extensive clinical and strategic leadership experience will enable him to guide the growth and enhancement of ambulatory services across all surgical specialties.

Northwell is New York State’s largest health system. Its Northern region is comprised of Westchester, Rockland, Putnam, and Dutchess Counties in New York as well as Fairfield County in Connecticut. Dr. Goldstein will collaborate with practice, regional and service line administrative leaders across Northwell to develop strategies for our patients’ needs.

“We are so lucky to have a top surgeon like Dr. Goldstein lead the ambulatory surgical services group for our northern region,” said Gary Giangola, MD, vice president of surgical services, western region at Northwell Health and chair of surgery at Lenox Hill Hospital. “As a top vascular surgeon, he has demonstrated a thorough understanding about best practices, compliance standards, improving surgical procedures and equipment that is unmatched.”

Certified by the American Board of Surgery in surgery and vascular surgery, Dr. Goldstein has served as chief of vascular surgery at Phelps Hospital and Northern Westchester Hospital for the past six years. He received his medical degree with distinction in vascular research from Albert Einstein College of Medicine of Yeshiva University, where he was inducted into the Alpha Omega Alpha Medical Honor Society. He completed his surgery residency at Albert Einstein College of Medicine, Montefiore Medical Center, followed by a fellowship in vascular surgery at New York University Medical Center. Dr. Goldstein has been in practice for 16 years and has lectured and published several research articles on vascular surgery. Dr. Goldstein is married, has two children and is a resident in Cos Cob, CT.

 

About Phelps Hospital

Phelps Hospital, part of Northwell Health, is a full-service 218-bed acute care community hospital in Sleepy Hollow, N.Y. With more than 1,700 employees and 1,100 medical staff members representing 60 medical specialties, Phelps offers one of the broadest ranges of community hospital services in Westchester County. Caring for the community is at the heart of what Phelps does. Patients benefit from distinguished physicians, many of whom are pioneers in their field, offering the most advanced procedures using the latest technology. Phelps is one of approximately 500 hospitals nationwide to achieve Magnet Recognition® status from the American Nurses Credentialing Center for its commitment to nursing excellence and compassionate patient care. The hospital is supported by Northwell Health Physician Partners, a primary and specialty care medical group, with practices located on the hospital campus and in the surrounding communities. Phelps is located at 701 North Broadway in Sleepy Hollow, N.Y. and can be reached by calling (914) 366-3000 or visiting www.phelps.northwell.edu. Follow @PhelpsHospitalNorthwell on Facebook, @Phelps-Hospital-Northwell on LinkedIn and @PhelpsHospital on Twitter and Instagram for the latest news and updates.

Midpoint: Recovering from a Hip Replacement

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image002By Susan Hodara

I was optimistic. I could make the six weeks into a rare opportunity. That’s how long I was to be restricted to a walker as I recovered from a hip replacement. Unable to drive, I would have limited distractions. I wasn’t teaching, and my husband, Paul, and I had kept our social calendar empty. Other than visits from my physical and occupational therapists and from generous friends who promised to stop by with food and companionship, my days would be open. Surgery, it turned out, was a great excuse to shirk all kinds of obligations, leaving me with a rare freedom to focus on writing, reading and healing.

The first week I was fatigued, and just getting to and from the bathroom was a chore. But by the end of the second week, I could begin to think about other things, starting with an article I had been assigned to write.

I remember that day. I was still spending most of my time in the dining room, where Paul had moved one of our daughters’ twin bed until I could more confidently negotiate the stairs. It was lovely there, just off the kitchen, with the bathroom mere steps away. My view was the forest behind our house. I kept the windows opened to fill the room with summer breezes, the chirps of birds and, sometimes, the sweet aroma of newly mowed grass.

Propped up on pillows, legs outstretched under the blankets, computer on my lap, I wrote a few sentences. It might have taken me 45 minutes to an hour, but that wasn’t unusual, and besides, I had nowhere else to be. I took a break to read my book, which made me sleepy enough to curl up and nap for a bit. When I awoke, I was ready to write a few more sentences. Time bobbed calmly on the sea of the afternoon. It was perfect–well-paced, productive enough, healthy, and utterly up to me.

A week has passed since then (though it seems like much longer). I finished the article. I finished the book and started another. I have checked Facebook too many times, gone through the entire new season of Orange is the New Black and watched the final episodes of Nurse Jackie.

I don’t think twice about going to the bathroom now. I can get up and down the stairs as needed; I can fix my own meals and clean up afterwards; I can shower by myself whenever I want. I’ve taken care of all kinds of tasks that my physical limitations permit.

But the midway point has lasted a long time. I started saying it two days before the official date: “Three more weeks to go!” It is now the day after the date, and it’s still three more weeks to go. I am having trouble retaining my optimism. Funny thing is, I know it’s not the surgery. This is a too-familiar feeling. It flits like a persistent gnat around the edges of my awareness, waiting for its cue to descend. The hunger for a job to do or a problem to solve morphs in an undetectable second into a sense of purposelessness and futility that is instantly truer than whatever wellbeing came before.

It would be reasonable to attribute this malaise to six weeks at home, unable to shop, visit, exercise and do all the assorted errands that I usually resent but that give my life its consequence. But I’m reluctant to do so. I’m determined to face head-on what I live beside anyway: the relentless demand for significance, without which I sink into darkness.

Epilogue: The six weeks did finally pass, and I now appreciate daily my newfound and pain-free agility.

Susan Hodara is a journalist, memoirist, editor and teacher. Her articles about the arts have appeared in The New York Times, Harvard Magazine, Communication Arts, and others. Her memoirs are published in a variety of anthologies and literary journals. She is a co-author with three other women of Still Here Thinking of You, memoirs about mothers and daughters. www.susanhodara.com.