My life changed when I moved away from my hometown in urban Southern California, when I was 27. It was difficult to see it then but being away from my support system meant I had no one close by to turn to when my relationship became abusive.
An even bigger barrier to escaping the abuse was the fact that I couldn’t find anywhere to take my pets. Survivors with pets like myself learn very quickly that most shelters cannot accommodate animals.
AG is a 2-month-old, healthy chubby baby with “Michelin man” rolls and pinchable cheeks, and he’s my patient. I’m a pediatric intern at Harbor-UCLA Medical Center, a safety-net hospital in Los Angeles. When AG missed his checkup in late December, I was worried.
My colleague told me that AG recently had been in our emergency room. He tested positive for COVID-19.
California’s system for providing durable medical equipment and supplies at home is complicated and difficult to manage, even in normal times. During the COVID-19 pandemic, rationing and supply chain disruptions have made things impossible for families of children with special health care needs.
I believe California needs a state oversight office for durable medical equipment to give families and patients a way to resolve problems before they cause harm.
Intimate partner violence has escalated over the past two years. Research points to economic distress, increased time indoors with abusive partners, and worsening mental health as exacerbating factors.
I wanted to better understand this crisis, which often flies under the radar. So I reached out to several advocates and practitioners to find out more about intimate partner violence and how some organizations are leveraging community healing practices to address the problem.
My family’s history is deeply shaped by our nation’s history of discriminatory housing policies.
I’ve written about my grandfather’s story and about how redlining affected my family. But I never fully explored how this legacy continues to impact the housing situation of my family and many others. The legacy of redlining and housing discrimination has exacerbated California’s already devastating housing crisis for the Black community.
The COVID vaccine for children is safe and effective, and it’s the best way to protect not only children but also the larger community.
Was I concerned about the risks of the vaccine? No. COVID is a far greater threat to my son, who has to go to the ICU when exposed to the kind of germs that give healthy kids the sniffles. The vaccination also benefits my healthy daughter, who won’t have her schooling interrupted by quarantines.
While California has one of the lowest COVID-19 transmission rates in the nation and a high vaccination rate, the reopening of schools has proven rocky.
To better understand how the reopening effort is playing out on the ground, I spoke with educators from Oakland Unified School District and Los Angeles Unified School District — two public-school districts that primarily serve students of color.
We made the decision to send our son back to in-person school last year despite his vulnerability to infection because our district came up with a reasonable, safe plan to make it possible: Every student had to wear a mask.
Just as we were gearing up for a mostly safe year back at school, the Clovis Unified school board decided to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and create unnecessary confusion over which mask policies would be enforced, despite clear state guidance.
It’s the kind of case attorney Helen Tran deals with all too often. An Asian-American small business owner came into her office at Neighborhood Legal Services in Los Angeles begging for help with a surprise, five-figure medical bill.
The woman had health insurance. Yet, due to a mix-up caused by misinformation from her insurer, she’d received two chemotherapy treatments from an out-of-network provider that she had believed was in network. This simple mistake ended up devastating her financially.
As federal and state policy makers make plans for infrastructure and budgetary spending, let’s not forget to invest in the infrastructure of care too, particularly for children with disabilities.
The framework of support that makes it possible for families to care for children with complex care needs safely, in their own homes and in their local school systems, is part of our infrastructure of care.