We want to keep as much care in the community as possible
In the small city of Ephrata, Washington, Columbia Basin Hospital has quietly answered a question that haunts rural medicine: must people leave home to heal? Launched in December, the hospital's advanced wound care program now treats 45 patients weekly, bringing regenerative therapies once reserved for regional centers to the community's doorstep. For patients like 79-year-old Karen Gallaway, whose leg wound from a midnight stumble demanded the kind of sustained, specialized attention that once meant long drives and fragmented care, the program represents something older than innovation — the idea that healing belongs where people live.
- A 79-year-old woman drove a bed frame's metal edge deep into her leg in the dark of a March morning, and infection followed the injury into the bone.
- For rural patients, specialized wound care has long meant repeated travel to distant medical centers — a burden that compounds suffering and delays recovery.
- Columbia Basin Hospital launched its advanced wound care program in December, offering debridement, regenerative grafts, and collagen therapies that accelerate healing without requiring patients to leave Ephrata.
- Demand outpaced expectations quickly: what began as one physician working one day a week has grown to a two-day-a-week clinic treating 45 patients weekly, with a specialty nurse available five days.
- A new practitioner joins at the end of June, signaling that the program is becoming a permanent service line — not an experiment, but a foundation.
Karen Gallaway never made it back to bed on a March morning. A drowsy stumble sent her leg into the metal wheel assembly of her bed frame, driving a deep puncture wound down to bone. The emergency room at Columbia Basin Hospital closed the wound, but puncture injuries carry bacteria deep into tissue, and infection followed. At 79, she faced the prospect of traveling for the kind of sustained specialized care her wound demanded — until she learned she didn't have to leave Ephrata at all.
Six months earlier, in December, CBH had launched an advanced wound care program under Dr. Benjamin Schultze, the hospital's chief clinical and nursing officer. Working one day a week at first, Schultze performed debridement — the careful removal of damaged tissue — and applied regenerative grafts. When Gallaway came in for treatment, the team debrided her wound, applied saline and collagen products designed to stimulate new cell growth, and specialty nurse Shelly Miller measured and dressed the wound. Gallaway walked out saying she felt great and could walk again. She hadn't had to drive anywhere to get better.
The program treats trauma wounds, diabetic foot ulcers, pressure sores, post-surgical complications, burns, and conditions like scleroderma. The therapeutics available for wound healing have advanced dramatically in recent years, allowing tissue to repair faster than older methods permitted — bringing care that once required a regional medical center into a small-town hospital.
Demand was swift. By June, the clinic had expanded to Tuesdays and Thursdays, with Miller available five days a week for cleaning and dressing changes. Together they were seeing about 45 patients weekly, with another practitioner joining at the end of June to handle the overflow. Schultze frames the work as part of a larger vision he calls 'whole person care' — the belief that a wound patient who also needs diabetes management, vascular care, or pain control shouldn't have to piece their recovery together across multiple towns. They should be able to stay put, trust the same team, and heal in the place where they live.
Karen Gallaway woke in the dark on a March morning and never made it back to bed. A stumble in those drowsy first moments sent her leg into a metal wheel assembly on her bed frame, the sharp edge driving deep into her flesh and down to bone. The emergency room at Columbia Basin Hospital stitched and stapled the wound closed, but puncture injuries are treacherous—they drive bacteria and debris into the muscle and tissue beneath the skin, and infection followed as it often does.
At 79, Gallaway faced the prospect of traveling for specialized wound care, the kind of ongoing treatment that puncture wounds demand. But six months earlier, in December, Columbia Basin Hospital had quietly launched a program designed to keep exactly this kind of care local. She didn't have to leave Ephrata.
Dr. Benjamin Schultze, the hospital's chief clinical and nursing officer, began seeing wound patients one day a week that December, performing debridement—the careful removal of damaged or infected tissue—and applying regenerative grafts. The work is precise and methodical. When Gallaway came in for her regular treatment last week, Schultze debrided her wound again, then the team applied saline and special collagen products designed to coax new cells into growth and speed the healing process. Specialty nurse Shelly Miller took measurements, applied a final dressing, and Gallaway walked out saying she felt great, that she could walk again. She called the staff wonderful and meant it—she hadn't had to drive anywhere to get better.
That gratitude is exactly what Schultze is after. "We want to keep as much care in the community as possible, to provide care locally and do it well so patients don't have to travel," he said. The innovation isn't in the concept but in the execution: in recent years, the therapeutics available for wound healing have advanced dramatically, allowing tissue to repair faster and more completely than older methods permitted. What used to require a trip to a regional medical center can now happen in a small-town hospital.
The program treats trauma wounds from accidents, diabetic foot ulcers and vascular leg wounds, pressure sores, post-surgical complications, and injuries from burns, infections, swelling, cancer treatment, radiation, and scleroderma—a rare autoimmune disease where the body produces too much collagen, thickening and hardening the skin and sometimes affecting organs. The range is broad because wound care, done well, touches nearly every kind of patient.
Demand has been swift. When Schultze started seeing patients one day a week, he was working alone. By June, the program had expanded to Tuesdays and Thursdays, with Miller available five days a week for cleaning and dressing changes. Together they were treating about 45 patients weekly. Another practitioner was joining at the end of June to handle the overflow. What began as a single afternoon clinic had become a genuine service line, the kind of thing that keeps people in their communities and lets them heal at home.
Schultze frames it as part of something larger: "whole person care," he calls it, the idea that if a wound patient needs other services—management of diabetes, vascular care, pain control—those things should be available locally too. A person shouldn't have to piece together their recovery across multiple towns and multiple systems. They should be able to stay put, see the same doctors, trust the same nurses, and get well in the place where they live.
Citações Notáveis
I feel great. I can walk again.— Karen Gallaway, patient
We want to keep as much care in the community as possible, to provide care locally and do it well so patients don't have to travel.— Dr. Benjamin Schultze, chief clinical and nursing officer
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does a small hospital in Ephrata suddenly have the capacity to do this kind of specialized work? Isn't advanced wound care usually a regional thing?
It used to be. But the therapeutics have changed—the collagen products, the debridement techniques, the regenerative grafts. They're not exotic anymore. What's exotic is having the training and the commitment to do it well in a place like this. Schultze decided to invest in that.
And the patients—are they mostly accident cases like Karen, or is it broader than that?
Much broader. Diabetic ulcers, pressure sores from nursing homes, post-surgical complications, burns. Anyone whose body isn't healing the way it should. The program started at one day a week because Schultze didn't know if there was demand. There was so much demand they're already expanding.
What changes for a patient like Karen when she doesn't have to travel?
Everything, really. She can see the same doctor regularly. She doesn't spend a day in the car. She doesn't have to coordinate childcare or time off work. And psychologically—you heal better when you're home, when you're not exhausted from travel. She said she felt great. That matters.
Is this sustainable? Can a small hospital really maintain a program like this long-term?
They're betting yes. They're hiring another practitioner by the end of June. They're treating 45 patients a week already. The demand is there. The question is whether they can keep the quality up as they grow—whether Schultze's vision of whole-person care stays intact when the clinic gets busier.