Sometimes in life, we focus so intently on the individual tree that we begin to lose sight of the forest. From tending to a single patient to reckoning with flawed healthcare systems, in my service-year, I am learning to view the world from multiple viewpoints concurrently.
It’s approaching eight in the morning and the sun is hidden behind a cloak of clouds that paint the Philadelphia sky ash. It’s early December and I’ve been serving with AmeriCorps for a little over three months. My shoes slam into the concrete, as I walk briskly down the street. The mental image of the bus pulling off two blocks ahead of me plays on an eternal loop, a low-budget nightmarish Tik Tok. Now, I am forced to walk nearly two thousand kilometers to my host site. I am crossing an intersection in front of a large van when I hear the car slamming its breaks. My eyes dart to the right and look incredulously at the hood of a utility vehicle about six feet from me. I don’t have time to process what just happened; I am going to be late.
The Health Center buzzes on, undisturbed as I walk to my office, my eyes already scouring a fax containing information about a patient. Communications like this are often sent by Prescription Assistance Programs informing me of a patient’s status in the program or if there were complications in the enrollment process. I sit and allow myself to be lulled into the flow of my shift. Just before closing, I hear my name over the clinic intercom: I have a new patient. Her condition and treatment are entirely too common. Over the months that I’ve been here, most of the medications I’ve dispensed have been to manage hypertension, asthma, and/or diabetes.
One of the routes I take
to my host site. Here,
the sidewalks are frosted
in snow and ice
I return to my cramped office to print all the necessary forms, completing what I can away from the patient so as to reduce the chance of possible COVID transmission, before returning the forms for patient signature. The woman is quirky but kind. I thank her for her considerable patience before spending some time explaining to her how our program works. As she leaves, I return to my office. At this point, most of the staff has cleared out of the building. I spend a few minutes faxing the paperwork to the appropriate program before shutting off my office lights and locking the door, effectively resetting for tomorrow.
On my walk home, bundled in a thick winter coat, I race against the early sunset. I wonder what would have happened if the driver of the van this morning wouldn’t have been so reactive. Would I have been bumped by the car and simply had an awkward morning, or could I have perhaps been injured more seriously? The more I think about that experience and the events that transpired thereafter, the more I realize that had I been injured, it’s very possible that the patient I helped would have faced tremendous obstacles getting the help she needed. I have always valued my life for selfish reasons, but I’m learning now to see past myself, embrace a humanistic perspective, and glean more of life’s larger picture as I continue to serve with the National Health Corps here in the City of Brotherly Love.
Cortez graduated from Vanderbilt University with majors in Neuroscience and Medicine, Health, and Society. He is an aspiring physician and public health professional. Cortez is participating in National Health Corps Philadelphia to broaden his perspectives of healthcare, gain greater experience with patient interaction, and deepen his understanding of the complex health challenges faced by those in the most need.
