RAM Clinic provided over $336,000 in care
'Thank you all for everything you have done throughout this process,' Noland said in an email. 'Your hard work and dedication has paid off.'
RAM is a national organization that hosts free clinics across the country for medical, dental and vision services, and has hosted annual clinics in Ashtabula County for several years.
Of the 451 people who were treated at the clinic, 397 were adults and 54 were children, according to the data.
Ashtabula County Commissioner J.P. Ducro said the numbers for the clinic were slightly down from last year, but largely consistent.
'The clinic went amazingly well, despite some of the challenges faced this year,' he said.
Ducro said the slightly lower numbers were likely due to clinic having to move to the junior high.
The clinic has previously been hosted at Lakeside High School, whose roof collapsed during the Thanksgiving weekend snowstorm.
The number of children at the clinic increased from last year, Ducro said.
'I thought that was encouraging,' he said.
Care provided to adults was valued at $272,873, and care for children at $64,033.
The post-clinic data showed 616 total encounters, which Ducro said were the combined times people were treated in the dental, medial and vision clinics.
Of the three types of care available, medical processed 181 people, vision processed 227 and dental, 208.
The medical side saw 164 adults and 17 children, vision saw 203 adults and 24 children and dental saw 183 adults and 25 children.
There were 248 glasses given out by vision and 75 medical exams done. Dental did 229 extractions, 134 fillings and 106 cleanings.
The clinic had 445 total volunteers working with patients.
Ducro was thankful for the time volunteers put in, he said.
County leaders are looking forward to the next clinic, Ducro said.
'We're already in discussion for our clinic next year,' he said.
Ducro said organizers want to find ways to bring more people from southern Ashtabula County to be seen at the clinic.
'More than half the patients were [from] 440 area codes,' he said.
Ducro said they are also looking to get more attendees, bring in more resources and having more chiropractors and more speciality medical options.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Newsweek
6 days ago
- Newsweek
Millennial Man Told He Has Sinus Infection, Then Doctors Drop a Bombshell
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. A man's life has been derailed after what seemed like a sinus infection turned out to be a devastating diagnosis that would leave him fighting for his life. In 2024, Brian McNamara, 47, thought he'd developed a sinus infection because he had persistent symptoms that he couldn't shake for months. The teacher and football coach from New Jersey developed a sinus headache that continued to get worse as the months went by. As it progressed, his symptoms escalated and became numerous. Hardly a day went by when he didn't feel in pain or discomfort. McNamara's wife, Jodi, told Newsweek that, after a while, he went to urgent care where he was treated "for a sinus infection." Nonetheless, the symptoms persisted, and treatment wasn't working. "It continued to worsen, and he started having ringing in his ears, a fullness feeling in the ears (like he was underwater), bad breath, neck pain, and jaw tightness," Jodi, 44, said. "Then, he got eventual facial numbness and double vision too. Brian and Jodi McNamara pictured together in a hospital. Brian and Jodi McNamara pictured together in a hospital. @wintheinch_wintheday / TikTok "It went from bad to worse two weeks prior to Thanksgiving, but looking back now, it was probably June when his symptoms started," she continued. Given how bad his symptoms were, Brain returned to the ER after Thanksgiving. He was taken for an MRI and CT scan, which is when everything changed. A mass was discovered in Brian's sinuses, believed to be a type of cancer called squamous cell. It was devastating, but as it was a holiday weekend, there weren't any specialist doctors who could help at the time. Jodi explained that a generous ENT did a biopsy of the mass at the side of Brian's bed so they could get the ball rolling. "He knew it was important to act fast because the tumor was so large," Jodi said. "Jersey Shore had a tough time with the biopsy because it was beyond their expertise, so a friend of ours hand-delivered it to Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York so we could move forward. Everyone knew time wasn't on our side, and Brian was deteriorating before our eyes." The mass wasn't squamous cell, after all. Brian and Jodi McNamara following the cancer diagnosis in 2024. Brian and Jodi McNamara following the cancer diagnosis in 2024. @wintheinch_wintheday / TikTok On December 8, Brian was diagnosed with small cell neuroendocrine carcinoma, a rare and highly aggressive cancer. Brian and his family were devastated and heartbroken because they knew time was against them, and it wasn't going to be an easy road ahead. "It was incredibly scary. Our whole lives changed at that moment. I cried and felt the floor drop from below us," Jodi said. Developing a Treatment Plan After transferring to the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, Brian met with a medical oncologist and radiation oncologist who both stressed the importance of tackling his cancer quickly. Within a day, he began chemotherapy, consisting of three consecutive days of treatment every three weeks for five rounds. Brian also did proton radiation twice a day for 15 days. Because of how rare and dangerous the cancer is, the couple wanted to get as much information as possible and listen to as many experts as they could. So, they also traveled to Texas, Boston, and Maryland to build up a team of doctors who could help. It's hoped that Brian can do immunotherapy treatment for a year, but if it comes back within that time, "there aren't many options" left. There is still so much uncertainty, and Brian constantly feels like he's in limbo waiting for some good news. Every time he has another scan, Jodi and Brian are filled with dread about what could happen next. Jodi told Newsweek: "He can't get excited about good news because we've been told it does come back usually in the first two years. I'm terrified that we will be faced with our worst nightmare, and we will lose Brian." Brian McNamara after receiving proton treatment for his rare cancer. Brian McNamara after receiving proton treatment for his rare cancer. @wintheinch_wintheday / TikTok Sharing the Journey Online As a teacher and football coach, Brian has long instilled a specific message into his students: "win the inch, win the day." Now, that's the motto he's living by. He continues to fight for his family, loved ones, and the community of friends and neighbors who have rallied around him since his diagnosis. Jodi has been documenting his journey on TikTok (@wintheinch_wintheday) to raise awareness for Brian's rare type of cancer. Many of the posts have gone viral, with one even amassing more than 1.5 million views on TikTok at the time of writing. While standing by her husband's side, Jodi used social media "out of desperation" to find others who have dealt with this firsthand. It was a useful way to gain information, but as it evolved, they developed a supportive community on TikTok. Jodi has also documented the difficulties they've faced with insurance companies refusing to help. Brian continues to fight this rare cancer with everything he's got, and he's been so overwhelmed by the love he's received—both online and in person. "Before we left for his treatment, the town came together for a car parade. The roads were closed and hundreds of cars met at the school and formed a line to drive by our home. It was so emotional and eye-opening how appreciated he is. Brian was so overwhelmed and said that was his push to fight because he was determined not to let them down," Jodi said. Is there a health issue that's worrying you? Let us know via health@ We can ask experts for advice, and your story could be featured on Newsweek.
USA Today
17-07-2025
- USA Today
Her mom got sick, she moved in to help. Years later, they both feel trapped.
Connie Sabir lived independently before falling ill the day after Thanksgiving in 2022. The next day, a Saturday, she went to the emergency room and was diagnosed with COVID-19 and pneumonia. She spent four days in the hospital and returned to her home in Holladay, Utah. Her daughter, Miriam Sabir, was her new roommate. Miriam Sabir packed an overnight bag and expected to care for her 86-year-old mother for a couple of weeks, just to help her get back on track, she said. 'I thought it would be temporary,' Miriam Sabir, 65, said. 'But it has been, you know, 2 and a half years.' The average life expectancy in the U.S. is 78 years old, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Many people who live that long or longer need care in some way, and often that responsibility falls on their adult children. The role reversal can be uncomfortable at best and traumatic at worst, guilt-ridden on both sides as parent and child grapple with a new reality that sometimes includes a move to assisted living. For Connie Sabir, COVID-19 accelerated the process. A woman's retirement crisis: Between caregiving and gender wage gap, can they catch up? Both mother and daughter are troubled by what Miriam Sabir's role as caregiver has meant for their relationship. Connie Sabir said she doesn't want to be a burden. Miriam Sabir said the last two years have been incredibly difficult, but she doesn't want her mother to feel like a burden. Between them, these feelings have gone unspoken. 'It's been hard on her, really hard,' Connie Sabir told USA TODAY about her daughter. 'And I'm sorry. I feel really sad about it. And I know that she'd get really tired sometimes. And I wish I could have lifted her burden.' Dr. Sanjay Shetty, President of CenterWell, a senior-focused health provider with clinics and home health services, said this is common among seniors and their family caregivers. But it's important to remember aging is a good thing, he said, even if American society doesn't tout that idea. 'We have to remove the stigma of aging,' Shetty said. 'I worry that we've created this idea of when you age, that you should just quietly deal with your own issues. We don't ask that of any other population.' Seniors have health and wellness needs, Shetty said. But they also need social connection and joy. If the country can recast what it means to be a senior, he said, maybe individual families, too, can open up in conversations about aging and senior care so that everyone gets what they need and no one feels like a strain on their family. Miriam Sabir was upstairs working from home in mid-February when her sister brought their mother home from a doctor's appointment. As their mother came inside and hung up her coat, she fell and broke her leg. Doctors replaced her knee, but Connie Sabir hasn't regained the strength she needs to return home yet. Following her knee surgery, she's been in a care center and is on a wait list to move into an assisted living facility. Miriam Sabir visits her every Sunday morning so they can watch a church program together. 'Honestly, I feel like it's a big relief to have her being taken care of by other people,' Miriam Sabir said. She knows her mother wants to come home eventually. But neither of them is sure what that might look like, especially since their house doesn't have a bathroom on the main floor and the bedrooms are upstairs. Would her mother use a commode? Would they set up a hospital bed in the dining room? 'That looks like end of life,' she said. 'And, you know, I don't think she's at that point.' A mother's chronic fatigue, a daughter's elevated anxiety Connie Sabir used a walker before she got COVID-19, and she needed help going on outings to the doctor's office, meeting friends for lunch and grocery shopping. But she lived alone and managed well by herself for years after she retired from teaching in 2001. After her bout with COVID-19 and pneumonia, she suffered from chronic fatigue and brain fog, symptoms that lingered for more than a year. 'I wasn't able to cook anymore. Oh my gosh, I loved to cook. My favorite thing,' she said. 'I was so tired. I couldn't stand that long.' For Miriam Sabir, caregiving stress manifested in her elevated anxiety. She left her husband in 2020 and was living with her sister, Shireen Watanabe, before she moved in with their mother. They liked their routine. Watanabe said living together was "one of our happiest periods." When Miriam Sabir left to care for their mother, Watanabe noticed "it took a huge toll" on her sister. 'My sister has given up so much of her life. And it's a selfless act,' Watanabe, 54, said. 'I never overlook that.' Miriam Sabir said it made the most sense for her to care for their mom, since she didn't have kids like her siblings who live nearby. But she works full time as a software engineer and has a small vintage clothing business on the side. It was a lot to juggle, she said, and she soon felt her mental health start to deteriorate. She found herself stress eating protein bars and desperately seeking out time to be alone. She felt like she didn't have a space of her own in her mother's house. The emotional whiplash of returning to live at the home she grew up in didn't help. And she felt guilty that caring for her mother wasn't coming naturally. "It just got to the point where I didn't know where to turn," she said. She sought therapy in early 2025, for the sixth time in her life, to brush up on her coping skills for anxiety. Now when she's stressed, she turns on a guided meditation on YouTube. The slow breaths, in and out, help her to regulate her emotions. Seeking a 'What to Expect When You're Expecting' for caregivers Miriam Sabir said she's learned to give herself grace. Like many family caregivers thrust into a similar position, she's not a trained caregiver. More: When her mom got sick, her world turned upside down. Award-winning actress shares her story 'When somebody's pregnant, there's a book called 'What to Expect When You're Expecting,'" she said. "I wish there was a handbook that would say, 'What to Expect When You're Taking Care of an Aging Parent.'' Leslie Vick, a family caregiver in Minnesota, thought the same thing when her 84-year-old mother took a fall in December 2023 and went from living independently to assisted living in a matter of days. So Vick wrote one herself. "Finding Our Way: A Guide on Care, Finances and Helping Through the End of Life Journey" is a self-help guide for caregivers, Vick said. She is adamant that families should work proactively to prepare for the needs of aging loved ones. Having a folder or spreadsheet with their account passwords, doctor's phone numbers, insurance information and a list of monthly bills that need to be paid is a good start, she said. When it comes time to decide whether to move a family member to a care facility or assisted living, "communication is really hard because there are feelings involved," Vick said. But honesty is key. "Know that it's OK that you need help," she said. A CenterWell survey of more than 4,200 U.S. adults published in June found 2 out of 3 Americans prefer independence over longevity without self-sufficiency as they age. For those over 65, that desire increased to 78%. Having her daughter in her home caring for her was hard, Connie Sabir said. It was a reminder that she couldn't do the things she used to enjoy. 'I mean, hard for her because she needed her time, and it was hard for me because I wasn't independent anymore and that's very difficult for me," she said. 'I know she got sick of cooking all the time. I mean I'm sure she did, she never complained, but I'm sure she got tired of it.' Living for a long time and living independently aren't mutually exclusive, Shetty said, though seniors might need to shift their idea of what independence looks like. That's where care teams and family caregivers can collaborate, allowing for as much independence as possible for a senior, whether they are at home or at a facility. 'It took me a long time to relax.' Miriam Sabir said her mother calls her at least three times a day. Each call lasts anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes. She sees her every Sunday, and brings her clean laundry. It took about two months after her mother left before she felt her anxiety lift. "It took me a long time to relax," she said. When her mom is in the assisted living facility she'll probably visit even more, since it will be a cozier, more inviting space. "It's hard to say" if her mother will ever return home, Miriam Sabir said. If she does, the family will need to hire a a paid caregiver. "This is her home," she said. "And I think she'd be happiest here." Meanwhile, Miriam Sabir is starting to think about her own aging experience. "It kind of scares me, actually. Because I don't have kids," she said. "I guess it makes you more cognizant of planning." This story is part of USA TODAY's The Cost of Care series highlighting caregivers from across the country. Previous feature for The Cost of Care: His sick wife asked him to kill her. Now that she's gone, he says the loneliness is worse. Madeline Mitchell's role covering women and the caregiving economy at USA TODAY is supported by a partnership with Pivotal Ventures and Journalism Funding Partners. Funders do not provide editorial input. Reach Madeline at memitchell@ and @maddiemitch_ on X.
Boston Globe
26-06-2025
- Boston Globe
My family insisted on removing a ‘bad luck' mole on my face when I was young. I'll never force my daughter to change hers.
The inauspicious location of this mark made it particularly problematic. Embracing a form of face-reading rooted more in superstition than science, she divined that this 'teardrop mole' had deeply marred me in the past — hadn't it? She wasn't wrong about the din and dysfunction of my early years. Estrangement was the throughline in my family history, marked by the first six years of my childhood with a biological mother who regularly conveyed how my very existence was a crushing weight she wished to offload. Without even having that knowledge, my great-aunt insisted my teardrop mole be removed immediately to ward off any future pain and suffering. And so, I sat in a clinic to undergo erasure by excision and then cautery to close the wound. I remember the acrid smell of my burnt skin. I didn't object to this intervention; I didn't even know how. I was a child, after all. Who was I to reject this promise of protection? Advertisement Twenty-two years later, I had my own child, a little girl who looks nothing like me. With tawny brown hair and generous eyelashes, she is her father's daughter. But what makes her mine is the tiny mole under her eye, just like the one I used to have. I read her face closely and assess. I often glide my thumb over my little girl's mark. I kiss it often. It is here to stay. Advertisement She was born a week before Thanksgiving, her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck and shoulder. She was carefully unraveled and was fine; we see this now as proof of her doing excitable somersaults in the womb that track with her antics today. Joy is her second skin. She is an all-in, come-at-me-world force with a vibrancy that can power a city. This marked girl is the lone extrovert in a family of please-don't-make-eye-contact-with-me introverts. An enthusiastic (but terribly bad) hide-and-seeker who passionately believes waffles are a food group, she is our magnanimous wild card. A lovely singer with an uncanny ability to remember lyrics after only hearing a song once, she humors her parents' classic requests, from 'Thunderstruck' (Dad's choice) to 'Ice, Ice Baby' (Mom's choice). With her, nothing is halfway or halfhearted, whether it's the gleeful shrieks as she takes the first bite of a sno-cone or the way she cradles my face when she suspects I need it most (and her suspicions are always right). She feels the full range of emotions intensely (I'm sorry I screamed in your face, reads one note I particularly cherish) and her unfiltered, real-time commentary is of the purest kind ('I love being your sidekick, Mommy,' she informed me one day). Advertisement I can't say the removal of my teardrop mole succeeded in forestalling further unhappy endings — I've had my fair share of pain and suffering in the years since. But if anything, becoming a mother to my little girl has compelled me to test fate, because I will never have hers removed. Her mark inscribes a different story: that a childhood can be good, joyful, and redemptive — not needful of any erasure. You should see it. It is written on her face. Miun Gleeson is a writer in Garnet Valley, Pennsylvania. Send comments to magazine@ TELL YOUR STORY. Email your 650-word unpublished essay on a relationship to connections@ Please note: We do not respond to submissions we won't pursue.
