Tender Mercies, Inc.

Paluk Walia, Summer 2011

My summer at Tender Mercies was a lot of things. Predictably, it was emotional, enlightening, and productive. Unpredictably, it was both inspiring and humbling. Throughout the summer I busied myself in work, choosing several smaller projects over one larger one: organizing the site's annual TB screenings, setting up daily blood pressure and blood sugar screenings, presenting health and nutrition classes, educating motivated residents about controlling their diabetes, and initiating art sessions in collaboration with UCCOM's Fine Arts in Medicine Club.

That last initiative on the list led to the inevitable ‘emotional epiphany' of my summer experience. The other efforts mentioned, while valuable in what they offered to TM's residents, unabashedly present the mindset I entered the summer with; I sought to contribute to the residents' physical well being, to offer health advice to improve their physical quality of life. As the bearer of medical knowledge, I was the teacher and they, the students. Despite my preparedness and preconceptions, it was that first art lesson that became my summer's most memorable experience.

The day before our first art session, I was introduced to a new resident, in the middle of her anxiety attack, which she was convinced was a heart attack. I spent the next two hours talking her down from the episode, talking her through a series of hysterics, delusions, fears, dreams, loves, and memories, until she was once again in control of her mental and emotional state. I felt sad and sympathetic when I finally left her, unaware that 24 hours later, she would leave me in awe. When this resident strolled into our first art session, I was merely observing and encouraging other residents along. Art and I had had an extensive, arduous relationship, one that we had mutually agreed to leave alone. The aforementioned resident laughed off my reasons for not participating and insisted I at least write my name in paint. After analyzing what I saw as merely a colorful signature, she suggested I add a quick doodle in my favorite color, followed by just a line, and so on. After following her advice for her own benefit, I was shocked to look down 20 minutes later at an aesthetically pleasing, self-reflective, and most importantly, self-made composition. I repeatedly (and somewhat comically) looked from the canvas to her, back to the canvas, and back to her, to which she smiled and said, "You help me, I help you," as she left the room.

After that experience, my surprise gave way to re-evaluation of the residents and of the role I played at Tender Mercies. Sure I was the ‘Medical Intern' on site, and led several productive health initiatives during my time there. However, upon final reflection, interspersed between the presentations and medical terms, were life stories and personal experiences that the residents and I shared. While counseling a diabetic resident on a nutritionally balanced diet, what made it successful wasn't solely the succinctness of my handouts nor detail of my power points; it was laughing over the resident's favorite foods and most tempting desserts, and incorporating those stories into her plan for the future. What made blood pressure screenings beneficial was helping another resident discover that the strongest motivation he had in controlling his hypertension, was guiding and modeling himself for his overweight teenage daughter, and prevent her from going down the same difficult medical path he had to go through as an obese diabetic.

In short, my summer at Tender Mercies was enlightening for several reasons. It taught me that my medical background and the letters "D-R" before my name will confer a respect and responsibility that need to be appreciated. It taught me that when you "assume", the cliché about what it does to "U and ME," holds too true to ever forget. My summer experience taught me that no matter what the relationship between two people, even teacher and student or doctor and patient, both parties will have something important to bring to the table. Above all, the success of a liaison lies in the strength of the relationship itself, which isn't measured by the dependency of one individual on another, but the level of trust and cooperation that exists between them.