My Experience with Hospitals

Click here to read the article that I am referencing, "Yang cites maternal mortality stats to talk about race".

I am not surprised by these stats at all. Hospitals really are one of the worst places to be for women of color.

I can only speak about my own experience from being in the hospital for a prolonged amount of time with my sister back in 2018. During one of the scariest times in my life, it was such an excruciating experience trying to get past the 1) medical lingo, 2) superiority complexes, 3) racism, 4) revolving door of doctors, nurses, and even med students who don't talk to each other, but expected us to not ask questions—I had a med student, an Arabic woman, tell me that I did not know what I was talking about, and I'm sure she wanted me to just shut up, but I pushed back and said "Why don't you tell me then?", and finally, 5) the lack of compassion for our very human emotions.

I had a nurse, a white male nurse, say to my face, after I asked to talk to a doctor: Doctors are very busy. Do you ACTUALLY want me to go get a "white-coat" to come and talk to you?

"Yeah, I ACTUALLY do."

I had to be aggressive, question, repeat, question again and repeat over and over again. I had to turn a blind eye to the blatant racism, in order to focus on the task at hand—the care of my sister. I had to remind several doctors (who were of different races) that “I am not a doctor. Please explain it to me without all of the medical mumbo jumbo." I was also astounded at the number of times one doctor did not know what the other doctor was doing.

There is a lot of racial profiling, and people of color do not have access to the best hospitals, with the best doctors and the best medical staff. And yes, this does happen to white people too, just not at the rate that it's happening to people like me. It's a race issue, it's a class issue, it's a gender issue, it's a patients rights issue.

As a patient, I urge us all—white, black, brown, blue, yellow, green, whatever color you are—to be diligent and don't be afraid to say "I don't know what the eff you are talking about." and hold them accountable.

It is a broken system, and I do applaud the ones who are trying to fix it.

Five Myths About Postpartum Depression

Click here to see the YouTube video I am referencing, "5 Myths About Postpartum Depression".

I know I am sharing a lot of my story lately, and perhaps it’s TMI, but through loss I’ve learned to appreciate that living means sharing our stories, the good and the bad. It is not my intention to share for sympathy, but rather to educate and to let us all know that we are not alone. If in the process I can help someone, however quietly that may be, it will be worth opening up all of the wounds.

My myth centered around #2: That postpartum depression meant we cry all of the time and can’t take care of ourselves. I didn’t really cry and I took care of myself just fine, along with my babies. But I was anxious all of the time, which made me very impatient and I would lash out at my loved ones, who were my husband and my children. I love my babies, but I also felt indifferent toward them and motherhood in general. Then I felt like a bad mother for feeling like that and it became a vicious cycle.

I was already depressed before I had my children. Then I had my children and I became even more depressed > postpartum depression. I also suffered from so much loneliness because I didn’t think anyone could relate to me. So I thought there was something wrong with me, and I internalized and internalized and internalized. Well, I never got treated for any of that, and then life compounded so many many many more things onto my plate. By the time I finally sought treatment, I was clinically depressed.

When I finally admitted in therapy that I think I had postpartum, it felt like a kick in the gut and a pile of bricks was lifted off of my chest, leaving me quite breathless. To this day, I still live there working through it. The hardest part is over: admitting and identifying it, but I know it is an ongoing process.

May we all find our way out of whatever personal hell we are going through. And don't forget, when you're going through hell, keep going. Don't sit down, because it can get very very comfortable.

Rediscovering Books

This past year has been a year of retreat & self-reflection, which allowed me to rediscover my love for books again. Oddly, “Methland” by Nick Reding was one of my favorites. He’s a journalist who transplanted himself into Oelwein, Iowa at the epicenter of the rise of meth. It’s more than just a story about the despair & destruction of meth; it’s about the socioeconomics and politics of it. I wanted to understand the drug of my brother’s addiction. It wasn’t about compassion. It was about empowerment. Right now, I’m finishing “Einstein’s God” by Krista Tippett. If you’ve ever been intrigued by the relationship between science & religion, pick it up. I’ve always thought that God was the very first scientist and never understood why the two ideologies were so at odds. They both ask the same questions, they just have very different methods of getting to the truth. Tippett’s book is a conversation about just that. 

Does The Soul

Just finished “Einstein’s God”. I’ve always been fascinated by time, especially in regards to the soul: Does the soul age? Does the soul have a gender? Does it have a race? Because these are very human attributes—age, gender, race, you know, all of the things that make us hate each other. “Einstein’s God” doesn’t answer those questions, but it does have some deep conversations about the soul of science and the science of the soul. It even discusses depression, and the negative effects of the glorification of suffering in religion. I like ending the year on an introspective note, a very different place from where I was last year when my own soul was in so much pain.

A Kind Reminder That We Are Not Alone

I thought I would follow up my post from this morning on mental health with a kind reminder for those of us who need it.

It is the holiday season. This is one of the hardest times of the year for everyone struggling with depression, anxiety, thoughts of suicide, panic attacks, loss, loneliness, self-esteem, anything that may have been there for a very long time that is causing us pain.

Loved ones: please listen, and just be present.

Those of us who think we are all alone: please seek help. If you can, try to open up to a loved one. If you cannot, please look for a professional. And try to remember that loved ones love us so much that they often times cannot say the right thing, which can make us feel even worse. They, like us, are not trained professionals.

I cannot find the words to express how hard it is to take that first step. When I was struggling through some very tough times, my pastor saw that I was in so much pain and asked me to seek help. It took him three times over the course of six months (of which included me being suicidal) before I finally did. I have a doctor, a therapist, and I even have a minister from the Stephen Ministries who are currently helping me. But I had to take that most important step to ask for help.

We are not alone. There is help.

-National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: Call 800-273-TALK (8255)
-Crisis Text Line: Text NAMI to 741-741
-National Domestic Violence Hotline: Call 800-799-SAFE (7233)
-National Sexual Assault Hotline: Call 800-656-HOPE (4673)
-Emergency: Call 911

It Takes A Toll On Us

Mental health is a difficult topic to discuss even in the general public, but even more so in the Hmong community. The subject of mental health carries the burden of being seen as crazy, and unfortunately in the Hmong community—as in many others—any disability is often shunned upon. I hope that in time we learn to understand that mental health is not about losing your mind, but rather about healing it.

Mental health is important to me. Whatever you may be struggling with please know that I am an ally. You are not weak, and you definitely are not crazy. It will take more strength than you knew you ever had to ask for help. You are strong, and you will be well.

(I also struggled with seeking help while being Christian too. My faith is part of my mental health, and it is well. God & I talk all of the time and what I learned is that the power to heal is in His hands, but the choice to be healed is in mine. Check out “Healing Is A Choice” by Stephen Arterburn if you wish to learn about God’s grace in my journey.)

Being Hmong, I know that the pressure we live with of being a good daughter, being a good son, being a good family member can take its toll on us. I know that being under the microscope of the Hmong community and carrying the weight of our family name can take its toll on us. I know that finding our identity while straddling two very different and conflicting worlds can take its toll on us. I know that witnessing toxic behavior and being told that it is culture can take its toll on us. I know that watching our sons and our brothers sacrifice their careers and their livelihood for familial duty can take its toll on us. I know that being told our daughters and our sisters will never be as worthy as our sons and our brothers can take its toll on us. I know that hearing when our daughters and our sisters ask for help because they are in a toxic or violent marriage and then being told to “be patient” or to “work it out” can take its toll on us. I know that feeling utterly and completely helpless when we hear about sexual violence in our community and to what extent it is covered up can take its toll on us. But I know the thing that takes a toll on us the most is living in the shadow of our parents’ trauma: the sheer force with which they had to fight for their lives, the families that were literally torn apart, the deaths that they saw, the war that they had to fight in as children and young men—The Secret War that they never received credit for, the escape from their homeland to a strange new land that often times was unwelcoming and unkind. I know that the horrors they do not talk about takes its toll on us. And, I know that the fear of passing our trauma on to our children takes its toll on us, and I am afraid that we are too late, and that takes its toll on us. ~KNY

Victory

I am not a mother who is without flaws. I wake up everyday anxious about the challenges of the day. I worry that I am failing with every step. I get caught in the thick of it. But I am going take this small victory…

I asked Tristan why he put pronouns in his bio, and he said it’s because he wants to show support for the LBGTQ, non-binary, gender-nonconforming group. I literally cried because at the very core of me all I want to do is raise a kind, loving, accepting child.