Zachary Rieke exemplifies the highest standards of compassionate and holistic nursing care through his work at a pain management clinic, where he consistently goes beyond clinical duties to address the broader needs of his patients.
From prescriptions to pantries
Zachary Rieke works at a pain management clinic where he treats patients dealing with long-term discomfort. His approach goes beyond medication. He listens to patients, learns about their daily challenges, and adjusts support to fit their lives—not just their symptoms.
One recurring issue was food insecurity. Patients often mentioned skipping meals or relying on cheap, processed foods because healthier options were too costly or difficult to obtain. Rieke observed the pattern and saw that hunger wasn’t just a secondary concern—it was interfering with their recovery.
He encouraged his team to ask a simple question during visits: “Within the past 12 months, have you worried whether your food would run out before you got money to buy more?” The responses frequently uncovered a hidden barrier to healing.
A tool borrowed from pediatrics
The question Rieke adopted comes from the Hunger Vital Sign, a two-item screening tool originally created for pediatric care. The clinic is now testing it in a pilot program to identify patients who may need help accessing food.
When patients answer yes, staff direct them to local food shelves, meal delivery programs, or government assistance like SNAP. The aim isn’t just to provide meals—it’s to eliminate an obstacle between patients and their treatment plans.
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Such screening isn’t typical in most pain clinics. Traditionally, the focus has been on symptoms and prescriptions, not the social factors affecting health. Rieke’s work aligns with a broader understanding that medical care alone falls short when patients face basic needs challenges.
The shift resembles changes in oncology, where clinics now routinely check for financial strain or transportation issues. What sets Rieke’s approach apart is its application to chronic pain—a condition often unseen by others but closely linked to stress, isolation, and daily struggles.
Changing the clinic’s culture
Rieke didn’t just add a new form. He spent months training colleagues to recognize food insecurity as part of the clinical picture. Some initially resisted, arguing that social work wasn’t their responsibility. Over time, the team began noticing how often hunger and pain intersected.
A patient prescribed an anti-inflammatory diet couldn’t afford fresh produce. Another missed appointments to work extra shifts for groceries. These weren’t rare cases—they were common, overlooked problems.
The pilot program remains small, but early signs are promising. Patients receiving food assistance are more likely to attend follow-up appointments and stick to treatment plans. The clinic is now collecting data to determine if the approach reduces emergency room visits or hospital readmissions.
For now, the work moves forward steadily. Rieke continues seeing patients, adjusting medications, and listening. But when he hands someone a prescription, he also provides a list of food resources—and sometimes, that’s what patients value most.
