Eleven-year-old Jaime was diagnosed with leukemia and is currently undergoing chemotherapy. He’s a U.S. citizen but his mother is an undocumented immigrant from Mexico. “His mother told me that when they get home after his chemo, Jaime closes all of the curtains and locks the doors,” explained Jacqueline Casillas, my colleague and director of Pediatric Oncology at Miller’s Children’s Hospital in Long Beach. He’s afraid that his mother will be deported because she takes him to the doctor.
Author: ChrisAnna Mink
The rising cost of higher education makes food a luxury for some college students. Students are often embarrassed that they need food—but they’re not alone. Among Cal State students, 41 percent reported food insecurity in a 2016-17 survey across all 23 campuses.
The Children’s Institute building on Harbor-UCLA’s campus is surrounded by playgrounds. The inside is decorated in lively colors, and it’s neatly cluttered with toys and children. It looks like Crayola designed a home inviting visitors to come play.
Many of the children here have been expelled from regular preschool.
Most of my patients are low-income and many have faced adverse childhood experiences, or ACEs, which can cause lifelong physical and mental health problems. After years of working with low-income families, I’ve come to believe that combating ACEs contributes as much to a child’s academic success as learning the ABCs. That’s why Head Start is one of my weapons in the War on Poverty. It changes lives, one kid at a time.
I visited LA Kitchen, in part as a pediatrician, to learn about a career resource for my older foster-care patients. Transitional age youths are 16 to 24 years old and often age out of the system with a limited ability to support themselves.
Working in South LA, I see a lot of children living on the fringes and whom, at times, society wishes they could forget. Many of the kids are poor, hungry, mistreated, immigrants and minorities. Some are also homeless.
But these children are part of our community and they need us to look out for them. I tell their stories hoping that they won’t be forgotten.
Years have passed since I took care of 16-year-old Andy, but I’ll never forget him or his story.
As he sat in my exam room about half a decade ago, Andy, whose name has been changed, told me that his mom had kicked him out of the house when he told her he was gay.
He was 14.
Children living in high poverty neighborhoods—a disproportionate number of whom are children of color—are more likely to die from child abuse.
My patients in my clinic in South Los Angeles are children from high poverty areas. However, regardless of where they practice, pediatricians have a critical role in the recognition and prevention of child abuse.
The second week after school starts, kids with respiratory illnesses—everything from simple colds to asthma attacks—fill my clinic. As a pediatrician I expect this.
But this year was different. Many of the kids had atypically high fevers and body aches with their coughs and congestion. They had influenza.
As Sofia’s pediatrician, I couldn’t miss her mother’s overwhelming signs of postpartum depression. It’s a threat to the wellbeing of babies, their mothers and families.
Nationwide, depression affects 10 to 25 percent of all pregnant women during the perinatal period, defined as three months before pregnancy to one year after giving birth. Across California, the rate is about 20 percent, and in Los Angeles County, it’s 26 percent.