JOHNSTON — Senate President Dominick Ruggerio was hospitalized last week with pneumonia. He then entered short-term rehab to speed his recovery. I can relate.

 

The hospital emergency rooms in the state are overflowing with Rhode Island residents overwhelmed by the flu and other respiratory viruses. Whenever I step outside the confines of my double room at Briarcliffe Manor rehabilitation facility, I am asked to don a mask. Do you take similar precautions?

It’s been three weeks since I landed here after my inadvertent dance with a full-sized refrigerator, and it has been an eye-opening experience, teaching me things about the caring profession I had often taken for granted.

Beyond some basic physical and occupational therapy skills I needed to learn about how to make my future life a bit less challenging, I had the privilege of occupying a front-row seat, observing in real time the challenges of an aging population and their caregivers on the front lines of health care delivery in 2025.

 

Perhaps, more importantly, I have learned so much about the passion and dedication of those in the caring profession — the nurses, the CNAs, the therapists, the social workers, the pharmacy techs — who are the backbone of the health care delivery system here in Rhode Island. How do we tell their stories and rewrite the narrative?

Earlier this week, when the nursing shift changed at midnight, I had a fascinating dialogue with the nurse on duty, who shared with me her thoughts about the caring profession -- and the demands placed on those responsible for giving care in an often emotional and volatile situation. When I asked her what I should write about the caring profession, she told me bluntly: “Tell the truth!”

She spoke about the increasing danger posed by angry, unruly patients who had attacked nurses physically, putting them at risk. She spoke about the spiritual nature of the work— not religious but spiritual — understanding the need for empathy in caring, the emotion voiced in the tattoo, “Loving the universe" on the arm of one of the caregivers.

A very generous heart
On Monday, I will be returning to my apartment, after three weeks in short-term rehab, a veritable lifetime of dramatic moments. I have tried in the recent editions of ConvergenceRI to capture some of the profound stories of my caretakers. 

 

“I’m wondering if I told you how rewarding I found reading your second piece  in ConvergenceRI about your hospital experiences,” one long-time subscriber wrote. “It seemed to come from a very generous heart and put a different spin on who these strangers are who are suddenly intimate with us and responsible for caring for our needs.”

I finally got a haircut after a delay of more than two months, and when the hair dresser asked me what I wanted, I responded: “I trust you. You are the expert; make me look good.”

She responded by thanking me for trusting her, and I ended up with what I think is a good-looking haircut.

Perhaps that small exchange about a haircut encapsulated the essence of successful short-term rehabilitation: the ability to trust other folks responsible for your care.

Another thought: As I often found myself on a stationary bike in physical therapy, stretching out my calves and my inflamed ankle from a recurrence of gout, I found myself transported to a veritable therapist’s couch, talking about the decisions I had made in my life, and my willingness when necessary to jump off the work treadmill and resist the temptation to jump back on.

It takes courage to admit that you need to ask for help. To be willing to be vulnerable, and to wrestle with your own emotions about being disabled, knowing that there is no magic bullet or cure for your chronic health condition. And, most importantly, to listen to what others are telling you, even if you disagree.

 

The odds are that when Federal District Court Judge Jack McConnell issues his pending decision this coming week, ruling against President Trump and his alleged unlawful actions to freeze federal funds, the President will be enraged and throw a temper tantrum. No matter; President Trump’s anger will not save him from being found to have illegally frozen federal funds.

 

To encourage Judge McConnell’s decision, R.I. Attorney General Peter Neronha and a coalition of 22 other attorneys general filed a second motion on Friday, Feb. 28, asking for enforcement in their ongoing lawsuit against the Trump administration’s illegal and destructive freeze of federal funding.

“This Administration is attempting to exert power beyond what the Constitution allows, and by doing so he is signaling that he believes himself to be above the law,” said Attorney General Neronha in a news release issued late Friday afternoon.

 

 “In refusing to fully comply with Judge McConnell’s order, the Administration is holding hostage funds that are critical to the health and safety of Rhode Islanders and Americans everywhere; funds that were lawfully allocated by the Congress to support essential state programs that prevent wildfires, promote cybersecurity, mitigate the effects of natural disasters, and provide emergency management,” AG Neronha continued. “When the President and his Administration continuously flout court orders, they are testing the boundaries of what they can get away with, and toying with American lives in the process. Enough is enough, and we will stay in this fight until they comply.”

 

In this second legal motion requesting enforcement of the Temporary Restraining Order to end what they describe as the illegal freeze on federal funds, the coalition of 23 Attorneys General is seeking a court order to require the release of funds if the Trump administration is unable to provide evidence that they have been unfrozen. Stay tuned.

 

I have been humbled by the response of so many friends, family members and colleagues who have offered their help when I needed to ask for it.

 

In many cases, it was the excellent caregivers at Briarcliffe Manor who had to champion my needs when confronting either a recalcitrant health insurance bureaucracy or the need to improve the frequency of my medications. You can never say thank you enough.

 

I have often thought about how fragile our connections are to caregivers, all of whom have important stories to tell and to share. They represent the antithesis of the bombastic President whose anger and contempt for people knows no bounds.

 

By sharing my learning curve in short-term rehab, I hope that I have enlivened the conversation about our future lives together as they converge.