"Erected by the Citizens of the County of Los Angeles to provide Hospital care for the acutely ill and suffering . . . in order that no citizens of the County shall be deprived of Health or Life for lack of such care and services."
The new facility, with 600 in-patient beds, is a lot smaller than the old, prompting debate about whether it's big enough to carry the burden that comes with being a large county hospital. But it's a nice-looking hospital, bright and clean and full of up-to-date equipment. And one day, that will be the image that comes to mind when the words "County-USC" are uttered.
But when I hear those words, I find myself thinking about sneaking an elevator ride to the upper floors of that aging castle on a hill and about playing basketball with my friends on the asphalt court on the property and occasionally being clocked by long-limbed residents. One sympathetic security guard even taught us how to turn on the outdoor lights at night. Sometimes, the young doctors had enough of our late night playing and complained.
"The interns worked all night, so they were tired," said Bravo, the former security officer. "A couple of times I had to go out and kick out kids."
You probably kicked me and my friends out once or twice, I told Bravo. He arched his eyebrows and said, "Probably."
Dr. Demetrios Demetriades, the Cyprus-born head of County-USC's trauma unit, said there was no question the new hospital would be an improvement. The emergency room and the operating room were built too many floors far apart, and the elevators were notoriously slow. It could be a dreary place and there were few private rooms, which is key with patients with infectious diseases. He could rattle off a list of other problems.
But all things being equal, he said, he'd like to keep his office in the old County-USC. And, truth told, he gets a little defensive if someone trash-talks the old hospital.
"Despite the physical problems which we often have, personally I feel offended when someone talks negatively against the hospital, even the smallest thing," Demetriades said. "I can complain myself, because it's my house. But I don't want anyone else to say something."
Spoken like someone from the neighborhood.
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hector.becerra@lstimes.com
