Angela Schumann (left), a public health nurse with the Penn State Department of Health, helps Keith Spells with his diabetes treatment at Anchor Lancaster.
Keith Spells calls Angela Schuman his angel.
February 19, 2024
This serves as a comprehensive explanation. As a community nurse with the Pennsylvania Department of Health, she brings diverse people together as one. During a Thursday breakfast at Anchor Her Lancaster, a nonprofit that provides food, housing and casework to local low-income and unsheltered people, she takes blood pressure and gives medication. She is a best friend, a shoulder to cry on, and an answer to those who are often asked difficult questions. Where should I turn when I'm sick? How can I survive next winter without shelter?
In the health care system where she has worked for 22 years, Schuman is a conduit for providing health care to people who desperately need it but don't always have access to it.
And on a raw day in late January, Schumann works as Spells' eye replacement.
Spells, a thin man with a gray beard, heads to Anchor Lancaster's offices at the First United Methodist Church on Walnut Street in downtown Lancaster for a chance to eat a hot breakfast and beat the cold. I came. In the dining room, he met Schumann sitting at a narrow folding table loaded with bags filled with medical equipment, rubber gloves, and socks.
Spells doesn't have good enough eyesight to administer his own diabetes medication each week. So he sat down, pulled up his coat, and had Schumann give him an injection in his stomach.
She then plans out her pills for the week using a plastic box divided into rooms labeled by day of the week. I also hope she'll be ready for Spells in a week. Otherwise, it's okay. She plans to visit his apartment. Meeting patients outside of the office is exactly what you do when you are a community health nurse. After all, there isn't really an office.
Welcome to the front lines of community support at the Pennsylvania Department of Health. In addition to anchors providing hot breakfasts, day shelter, showers, and casework, Penn State Health Department community health nurses help address health disparities in the community one person at a time. There's more to work than that.
Things can change quickly in Lancaster County. Life expectancy varies greatly from block to block, ranging from 67.7 years to 88.2 years. Our commitment to health and access to care in central Pennsylvania is central to the Pennsylvania Department of Health's community health efforts. A 2021 survey of six central Pennsylvania counties found that one in seven respondents over age 50 had never had a colonoscopy. One in 15 women over the age of 40 has never had a mammogram, and Lancaster County had the highest breast cancer rate of any county surveyed. 42% of respondents reported having high blood pressure and 39% had high cholesterol.
Dozens of people facing similar issues and in need of medical care have connected with Schumann through her station at Anchor, which functions like a clinic without walls.
But that's not all. Men and women, many of whom are not as lucky as Spells to own an apartment, turn to her for help just to survive one more day.
And for them, it would not be out of place to call Schumann an angel.
Not just healthcare
On Thursday morning, the day Schumann gets Spells' shot, the anchor will serve French toast and ham to about 170 people for breakfast. Some people take a shower, warm up, or talk to friends. Many are unprotected, but not all. Anchor helps those who need it.
Schumann is one of various representatives from local health care, law enforcement and other programs at the breakfast end. They are the ones who know how to get help when there is nowhere else to turn. A man named Lenny will buy you a sleeping bag if you need it. Doctors from other medical institutions are also located nearby. Everyone works together.
Sometimes the guest's needs are ambiguous. A woman Schuman works with asks for help obtaining a copy of her high school diploma. Schuman makes that happen by calling or visiting her website.
In her garage, Schuman filled three garbage bags with socks collected from the nursing information departments of all five acute care hospitals at Penn State Health. Every once in a while, people wander by her table asking for a clean, dry pair or one of the piles of hand warmers she offers.
“Sometimes I just listen to people,” she said.
“Always for you”
When it comes to medical assistance, sometimes there is a dire need. The concerns are worldwide, and diabetes, heart disease, mental health issues, and musculoskeletal problems are common.
Da Vinci Vega was born and raised in Lancaster. He had been visiting Anchor for years and would help clear out the tables and chairs.
Vega now has deep scars on both of her legs from the surgery she underwent to treat her compartment syndrome, which is painful due to muscle compression caused by internal bleeding. During an examination of his leg, doctors discovered possible cancer in his spine. The jury is still out.
Schumann helps him navigate insurance and find the right doctor.
“She always helps me with anything I need,” he said. “She's a beautiful person. She understands everyone. She's always there for you.”
“Angie has a deep connection with our guests,” said Patty Eaststep, executive director of Anchor Lancaster. “Her people want her. They seek her out. We all love her.”
Schumann worked for many years as a triage nurse at Penn State Heart and Vascular Institute, IO Silver Clinic. One day she volunteered at a local health event and she liked it so much that she applied for the job.
“I realized that I had solid nursing skills and strong assessment skills to go out into the community and be independent,” she said.
his angel
Schuman knows she's making a difference, but it's not always easy to understand.
After leaving Lancaster Anchor later that morning, he plans to go to the local Salvation Army, where he will have his cholesterol and blood pressure checked. Here she encourages her guests to make lifestyle modifications, such as more exercise and better eating habits. Sometimes people's numbers improve. But it's not always easy to track. Patients sometimes leave or go dark, but she prays that the work she is doing will resonate with them and that they will be safe wherever they go.
But for patients like Spells, she knows it works. When Schumann first met him several years ago, he was unsheltered, nearly blind, and trying to give himself insulin injections twice a day.
Schuman recommended that she talk to her doctor about diabetes medication, which requires only one injection a week, which she continues to take. “I was able to see him once a week for medication and dietary guidance,” she said. “I couldn't even do it twice in one day.”
Sometimes he comes to Anchor to see her, but he doesn't drive. Like many people in the area, lack of transportation is an obstacle to getting him the care he needs. Schumann met him frequently and gave him injections in the common room of his apartment.
She accompanies him to his medical appointments and finds that his problems related to diabetes are improving.
Spells gets up from Schumann's table after receiving his weekly dose. He spends his hour or so warming up, then goes outside and takes a cold bus to his apartment.
Before leaving, he nodded in Schumann's direction.
“Now take care of my angel,” he says.
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