An Immigrant’s Heart
[["Julia B."--from my book "Medicine in Translation"--is featured in a Village Voice cover story by Shefali Kulkarni.]]
“It began as a cold that Julia Amparo-Alvarado couldn’t seem to shake. One January night in 2003 when her boss called, asking her to come in for a night shift of janitorial work at the Brooklyn Con Ed building, Julia protested, complaining of a fever. But with an eight-year-old son and four-month-old daughter at home, she knew she couldn’t give up the work. The family needed every dollar.
She slipped on layers of sweaters, a jacket, and a pair of shoes that did no justice to the
snowstorm going on as she walked to the subway station. When she finished her shift, she felt chills and was sweating. Her knee—a constant problem since she’d come to the United States from Guatemala five years earlier—was throbbing. Her whole body ached.
Over the next two weeks, her brother made trips to the pharmacy to pick up Tylenol. Neighbors came by her drafty two-bedroom apartment to bring her soup. When Julia couldn’t get out of bed, the kids were looked after by a sister and sister-in-law.
Under no circumstances, however, could she see a doctor. Doctors ask questions. They request documents. They might even call the police. One phone call could mean incarceration, deportation, and separation from her kids. Julia knew she was sick, but a doctor was out of the question.
…”