New Sentara hospital opens doors in Princess Anne

VIRGINIA BEACH

Crickets sang in the darkness outside Sentara Princess Anne Hospital on Thursday morning as workers peeled a "Do Not Enter" sign off a glass door, marking the official opening of the city's newest acute-care center.

Its first non-emergency patients came from Sentara Bayside Hospital, which stopped inpatient care Thursday, and from Sentara Virginia Beach General Hospital, which transferred its obstetrics department and neonatal nursery to the new facility.

Here's a look at the new hospital's first hours.

5:01 a.m.

Hospital President Stephen Porter is running on one hour of sleep.

He and a dozen nurse managers gather for an update on the number of patients to be transferred. Twenty-four from Sentara Bayside. From Sentara Virginia Beach General, seven mothers and 17 babies, including 12 from the neonatal intensive care unit.

"I want everyone to be comfortable," Porter tells his staff. "Have a good time, but keep it safe."

6:06 a.m.

Two stork balloons greet the first ambulance as it pulls up in the pale morning light.

Virginia Beach Mayor Will Sessoms climbs out and helps guide the stretcher up the sidewalk. He's a life member with the city's Emergency Medical Services after volunteering for more than 10 years with the Virginia Beach Volunteer Rescue Squad.

"This is a beautiful hospital," he tells the patient. "You're going to love it."

7:17 a.m.

Three managers grab a minute for coffee and cereal in a lounge near the mother/baby unit.

Someone heard that the hospital admitted its first labor patient an hour ago. They hope their staff soon will deliver Princess Anne's first baby.

"I'm just sure we will today, sometime today," says Maria Montgomery, clinical manager for labor and delivery.

At Virginia Beach General, a chime of Brahms' Lullaby announced each birth throughout the hospital, says Anne Etheridge, that facility's director of patient relations.

"It's the highlight of our day," she says, then she remembers that the hospital closed its labor and delivery department earlier that morning. "We're going to miss that."

7:28 a.m.

As Bayside patients are trundled through the emergency department entrance, Emergency Medical Services chief Bruce W. Edwards recalls the hospital's opening in 1975. He was EMS coordinator at the time, and his staff trained Bayside workers in CPR.

"Back then, Virginia Beach was about like a bedroom community," he says.

Edwards has ties to Virginia Beach General, too - his office was located on the site between 1973 and 1983.

Both of his children and all of his grandchildren were born there.

Some 300 of the 39,000 patients transported each year by his medics are obstetrics patients, he says.

"People are still getting used to the change."

7:50 a.m.

William Eley peers out from under a layer of blankets.

A team of medics and nurses unstraps him from a stretcher and lays him gently on a bed in Room 1 of the intensive care unit.

"I feel pretty good," says Eley, who's three days away from his 90th birthday.

The best part of his new room? "A brand new remote," he says, holding the device in his lap. "It's got far more conveniences than the other one did. That's worth the move itself."

8:09 a.m.

Sunlight streams into ICU Room 16. Joseph Nottage, the last inpatient to leave Bayside, rests in his bed.

The new hospital is "beautiful," the 76-year-old retiree says. "What I've seen so far. All I've seen is the ceiling."

8:52 a.m.

Matthew and Crystal Colohan tape pictures of themselves inside the bassinets of their twin girls.

Kinley Hope and Keegan Faith were born July 5, each with a thick thatch of dark hair. Now they're swaddled in pink and purple blankets embroidered with their names. They're hooked up to monitors bigger than they are.

Keegan stretches out her arms and flexes her tiny fingers.

"Oh, are you waking up, Sweetie?" her father asks.

9:07 a.m.

Empty bassinets and warmers line the walls of the newborn nursery.

Just one in the middle of the room is occupied: Bracie Britt sleeps peacefully, her right fist raised.

She was born 15 hours ago, the last baby delivered at Virginia Beach General Hospital. A street sign inspired her name.

Nurse Karen Ireland keeps Bracie's bassinet at arm's length as she types on a computer.

"She and I are together," Ireland says, "Working."

9:13 a.m.

Brahms' Lullaby chimes through the hospital.

People crowd the mother/baby nurses station, looking around expectantly.

"Was it a test?" they ask.

It was.

Amy Jeter, (757) 446-2730, amy.jeter@pilotonline.com