“Desjardins. That sounds like a County name.”
I was speaking to a representative of my insurance company who had called to discuss my upcoming knee surgery.
“It is,” she replied. “I’m from Fort Kent.”
I never doubted that wherever you go in Maine you will find someone with Aroostook County connections, but the number of times I have had the experience in the last five weeks is worth recording.
In our conversation on May 10, Dawn Desjardins detailed the seven most important things I could expect from a total knee replacement — from pain management and wound care to prevention of blood clots — as well as what services would be covered by my insurance, at what percent and for how long.
A registered nurse, Desjardins is a case manager for Aetna, who the company describes as a nurse “who can help you navigate the confusing world of health benefits” through regular phone calls and “also help you understand more about your illness and the care you are getting.”
“Are you calling from Portland?” I asked as we concluded our conversation. “No. I’m in Fort Kent.”
“Really? Where are your offices in Fort Kent?”
“I’m calling from my home,” she responded, adding that she was used to talking to people in other parts of the country. Seldom did she speak with a client who associated her last name with her hometown.
What a comfort to know I had a number and person to call — in Fort Kent, no less — as I ventured into unfamiliar medical territory.
Fast forward to May 16. I am lying on a stretcher in the Ambulatory Surgery Unit of St. Joseph’s Hospital in Bangor, awaiting pre-operation visits from my surgeon and anesthesiologist. Separated from patients on either side of me by white curtains, I talk quietly with my friend Ginny, who has brought me to the hospital and offered to stay until I am wheeled into the operating room.
“That sounds like Kathy,” a voice on the other side of the curtain to my right said.
“Is that Jimmy?” I asked, as my Caribou friend and neighbor Kay Judkins pulls open the curtain, revealing her husband in a gown matching mine.
We knew we were scheduled for the same surgery by the same doctor on the same day, but what were the chances we would be lined up next to each other waiting to go under the knife? Given the Aroostook County connection, pretty good.
We would later be neighbors on the surgical floor of St. Joseph Hospital, sharing the services of physical therapists, one of whom was another person with Aroostook County connections.
Hillary appeared in my room for a physical therapy session the morning before my discharge from the hospital, joking she had “stolen” me from the pair of therapists who had worked with me the preceding two days. Our conversation turned toward The County when I said I tried acupuncture for my knee in Caribou.
“I have an uncle who does acupuncture in Caribou,” she remarked. Of course, her uncle was not only the doctor I had visited but also a friend I know well enough that I had actually met Hillary, her sister and her mother in Aroostook County.
At the end of my two-day hospital stay, I elected to go to the Bangor Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in order to get a jump-start on recovery with an intense routine of physical and occupational therapy twice per day, in addition to skilled nursing care.
After six days, I had met my physical therapy goals. It was time to sign all the papers for a discharge and to have an exit interview with the social service director, Julie Levasseur.
Of course, I had to see if there was an Aroostook County connection — perhaps with the family of my BDN editor, Rick Levasseur, who lives in Bangor but grew up in Fort Kent.
Doubting a direct connection, she said, “I am from St. Leonard, New Brunswick. My husband is from Van Buren. His name is Rick Levasseur. Sometimes people ask if he is a reporter for the Bangor Daily News.”
It’s more than a small world. Aroostook County connections create a joyful bond of familiarity and friendliness. It’s predictable. It’s fun. And it can happen anywhere.
Kathryn Olmstead is a former University of Maine associate dean and associate professor of journalism living in Aroostook County, where she publishes the quarterly magazine Echoes. Her column appears in this space every other Friday. She can be reached at olmstead@maine.edu or P.O. Box 626, Caribou, ME 04736.