When I was eight years old, I witnessed my mom involved in a tragic accident. Time was of the essence, and she was rushed to Mount Sinai Queens, the nearest hospital. My sister—who was seven at the time—and I were terrified that we could lose our mother. As our family was preparing for the worst, this “little emergency room that could” saved my mother’s life.
After emergency surgery, she was transferred to an inpatient unit and hospitalized for about three weeks. My sister and I visited her whenever we were able to.
During those times, I encountered so many heroes. I can still remember their names, faces, warm smiles, and kind, soft-spoken words. At a time of uncertainty and distress, these special people—housekeepers, nursing assistants, nurses, and doctors—helped my family feel at ease, and I felt that everything was truly going to be OK.
The day my mother was discharged to rehabilitation, I told myself that I wanted to dedicate my life to helping others with the same compassion and care that my mother received at Mount Sinai Queens.
I learned so much about humanity, empathy, and selflessness during my mother’s hospital stay 17 years ago. I continue to learn and see this today, being surrounded by so many great people who work here.
These amazing people recently inspired my own kind gesture to a patient at Mount Sinai Queens.
This patient had a bucket list. He passionately wanted to travel the world like his brother did, but his health was preventing him from doing that. One of the places on his list was Egypt, and we spoke about its culture and history. Fortunately, I am half Egyptian, and my parents travel often. After work that day, I ran home and grabbed a souvenir I had gotten from Egypt, from the Pyramids of Giza, and brought it to him. I knew I couldn’t help him travel, but I could bring a small piece of another part of the world to his bedside.
He was so surprised and happy, and must have thanked me a million times. Something as small as a souvenir that we might take for granted every day really made such a difference to him.