Behind the Scenes in Geriatric Care
Being a CNA was an invaluable experience that enabled me to be both a caregiver and a friend to people who are among the most vulnerable in society. What started as a simple step toward gaining clinical experience for my medical school application quickly became a an eye-opening experience that reshaped my perception of what providing care means. When I first walked into the dementia unit of the nursing home, I thought I knew what I was getting into. After all, I had taken a class and gotten certified to become a CNA, specifically to gain hands-on experience. But nothing could have prepared me for the lessons I would learn about patience, empathy, and resilience.
“Lulu” was one of the first residents I cared for. With her being the only Mandarin speaker on the floor and me being the only CNA working that floor who spoke Mandarin, we quickly developed a bond. Every shift, during lunchtime, Lulu and I would chat after I finished feeding other residents. She loved telling me stories about her family and showing me pictures of her grandchildren, remarking each time that I reminded her of her granddaughter. One afternoon, upon walking into Lulu’s room, I noticed her untouched lunch and her body slouched over. I instantly knew something was wrong. Grabbing her chest, Lulu told me that she was having chest pain and could not move without her back hurting. She asked me to bring her to a doctor and communicate her complaints to the doctor. Assuring Lulu that I would be back, I hurried to the nurse and prompted her to transfer Lulu to an ED for medical care. When I returned the following week, I learned that Lulu was still in the hospital but had received the help she needed in a timely manner, due to my intervention. Lulu inspires me to always fight for those who desperately need advocates in the healthcare system, especially non-native English speakers, so they are heard and their health concerns are addressed.
Each day on the dementia unit brought a mix of exhaustion, small joys, and deep reflection. I was working with people who had lost so much: memories, independence, clarity. Yet they taught me more than any textbook ever could. From the smallest gestures of connection to fleeting moments of recognition, every experience reminded me why I want to be in medicine.