The Ugly Truth About My Service Term (Or why ignorance is bliss)

Just a few months into my AmeriCorps service term, a teary eyed patient walked in and asked for my help. I was at the Stephen Klein Wellness Center (SKWC), a Federally Qualified Health Center (FQHC) in North Philadelphia and one of the poorest urban regions in the United States. The patient, like a majority of the center’s 2500+ patients, lived in the neighborhood and reflected the demographics of the area. It was her first day of work but when she woke up, her vision had blurred so much that she could barely see. A mixture of uncertain emotions—worry of losing her job, hopelessness in the face of her current condition, and fear of losing her vision—sent her to us, the only place she trusted with her health. Assessing the situation quickly, I quickly informed the patient’s doctor and then started calling all the ophthalmologists I referred to. Three calls and 10 minutes later, I sent the patient to a hospital that accepts eye emergency walk-ins. About one month later, the patient came in again with tears in her eyes, but this time filled with joy. After giving me a colorful card, a dozen balloons, and a long hug, she told me that my actions had saved her eyesight.  

Coming into my service with National Health Corps (NHC), I wanted the opportunity to help patients in impoverished areas and give back to the community that has helped me so much. Having grown up impoverished and having suffered at the hands of our healthcare system, my patients’ dilemmas, such as the aforementioned one, are often experiences I can personally empathize with. Thus, I wanted to use this service year to learn about our healthcare system and use that knowledge to help as many of these patients as possible. In many ways, I was able to accomplish my goal. My service at SKWC has shown me—through both observation and practice—the complexities involved with the many facets of our healthcare system. I have seen how poor communities are treated by the health system and learned from firsthand experience the positives and flaws of healthcare access in the US. Submitting hundreds of prior authorizations and troubleshooting even more referral issues have allowed me to exhaustively learn about the Medicaid and Medicare systems. Coordinating 1000+ specialist appointments and spending countless hours speaking with insurance and hospital representatives have given me insight into how doctors, hospitals, and insurance companies co-exist.

Certainly, I have done what I came to do, learned what I wanted to know, and I can argue that my job is done. Yet as my service term comes to an end, I can’t help but feel that this has only been the beginning of a long journey. English poet Thomas Gray wrote the famous (and often misconstrued) phrase, “where ignorance is bliss/’tis folly to be wise”. Here, Gray is not arguing that we should seek happiness through ignorance, but rather he is saying that contentment is brought on by ignorance. Unfortunately—and I learned this the hard way—contentment will never bring about the change we need. While knowledge of our healthcare system has been an endless source of frustration and unhappiness, this knowledge has also acted as a catalyst for action and change for me. I now know, and cannot ignore, what is wrong with our healthcare system and what need to be changed. I came into my NHC experience seeing it as a pit stop before I started my career in the medical field. However, as I come out, I see it as a springboard for what I need to do in my future endeavors.

This blog post was written by NHC Philadelphia member Zhewen Zhang.
Zhewen serves as a Patient Support Specialist at Project HOME: Stephen Klein Wellness Center.