John and Valerie Watson: A Healing Journey

By John Moskin

John and Valerie Watson are a formidable pair. One of eight siblings, John grew up in the Ida B. Wells housing project on the south side of Chicago. His father, a postal service supervisor, often told him, “You have two strikes against you. You’re black, and you’re poor.” Accordingly, John learned early about the role of persistence not only in his pursuit of his doctorate in biochemistry but in his storied career as a scientist, educator, and Associate Dean at the UCSF medical school. Not to be outdone, Valerie went back to school after the birth of their fourth child, earned a master’s degree, taught at CCSF for 35 years, and received a lifetime achievement award for her contributions to culture through the art of dance.

As individuals and as a couple, the Watsons have surmounted obstacles with a reservoir of perseverance, determination, positivity, and hope. But on this day, they were scared. And who wouldn’t be?

John had just gone through a horrible medical ordeal that included a knee replacement, blood clots, and several cardiopulmonary, endocrine, and neurological comorbidities. While his prognosis was good, recovery seemed distant. And getting the life they built together over 64 years of marriage back, well, that seemed nearly impossible. To make matters worse, the burden of ultimately deciding which rehabilitation facility would meet their needs fell completely on Valerie.

“John wasn’t fully conscious yet when we had to make all these decisions,” Valerie said. “The hospital gave me a list of about 15 facilities, and I just started Googling.” She didn’t like what she saw. “Even the ones that were good enough to physically visit were dormitory style with three or four beds per room. And with Covid on the rise, with lots of people and their families coming in and out, I was scared to put John in a place that I wouldn’t want to be in myself.”

Increasingly desperate for guidance, she reached out to his primary care doctor…at four in the morning. “I just couldn’t stand it anymore. He was about to be released, and we didn’t know where to go.” But he did. He recommended the San Francisco Campus for Jewish Living. It was one of the greatest recommendations they ever got.

“John was crying when he left the hospital. He was afraid. He thought he was gonna go off to die. And truly, that’s what he said… But when we met the staff and saw the facility, I was shocked. They were very friendly, and it was just so magnificent. And when they took him from the medical transport and brought him to his room, with nice big windows looking out at the trees, he had nothing but smiles on his face. He was so happy; he didn’t know what to do. And I knew that was the place for him. The fact that people stepped in and suggested a place that I hadn’t been thinking about. I had seen the building before, but I didn’t know what it was, I had no idea. So, to me, it was a miracle…

…And it was the best decision that we could have made.”

“I didn’t know what to expect,” said John. “I’ve never been in a health situation such as that in the context of every day it was something new.”

In fact, a typical day during John’s three-week stay at the Campus often included physical, cognitive, speech, and occupational therapy. “Plus, the nurses were wonderful and available most of the time, and doctors came in regularly,” said Valerie. “He got really good care. And when he left, his skills were tremendous.”

John and Valerie are home again, picking up where they left off.

“And John is still healing very nicely,” Valerie said. “He’s able to go up and down the stairs, which he couldn’t do before he went to the Jewish home for rehab. And he’s also no longer diabetic. His doctor, who he’s been with for years, told him that this is the first time since he’s known him that he’s not even pre-diabetic. And the foundation for that was laid at the Campus. He told him, “Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

Looking back, John’s perspective seems to be imbued not only by his scientific training but by a profound and poetic type of gratitude. “It’s the closest I have come to knocking on the door,” he said. “But I’m happy for this experience. I really am. And though I don’t know if the slope of the line is still going up or if it has plateaued, I know that every day is a new day.”

Indeed, it is a new day in the Watson home, where hope and happiness have returned. And John is especially hopeful for one thing in particular: “To be able to eat chocolate chip cookies,” he joked.

“Well,” Valerie chimed in, laughing. “We will probably have to settle for oatmeal cookies with monk fruit for sugar.”