Essay by Kai Vu

Kai Vu is the grandson of Eileen Yamada Lamphere and is a graduating senior at the University of Washington. Kai has been studying for a B.S. degree in Public Health. He has distinguished himself through his experiences at the HealthPoint Health Scholars Program, clinical lab technician at the UW medicine lab, and epidemiology research intern through Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center. Kai is noted for his intelligence, drive, and commitment to community.   He will be attending Tufts University School of Medicine to work towards his Doctor of Medicine & Master of Public Health degree in the fall.

“I’m being followed!” My father yelled as he ran inside, slamming and locking the door on his way in. My family turned off the lights and sat in silence, peering through the closed blinds of the living room windows for over an hour, but no one ever came. From psychotic episodes to long unmedicated periods, I witnessed early on in my childhood the detrimental impact that schizophrenia can have on individuals and their families. I once asked him during a weekend visit why he didn’t take his medication; he told me he didn’t like the way it made him feel, but that whenever he was with me and my brother, he felt better. My father ultimately committed suicide due to the severity of his mental illness and lack of adherence to treatment. I will never know with certainty if my presence truly alleviated some of his suffering like I so desperately wanted, but it was all I had to offer as a child. Overcoming his death and facing adversity at a young age instilled resilience and compassion in me and fostered a desire to serve other stigmatized and disadvantaged individuals, in hopes that one day, I could use my knowledge and skills to help those with illnesses like my father. 

With my father’s story fresh in mind, I sought opportunities to shadow in medically underserved areas like the one I grew up in, frequently observing refugee screenings and overdue wellness exams. One patient, Ari, was a shy, stout woman who had just arrived from her war-torn home in Afghanistan, seeking refuge in the US just as my family had years ago during the Vietnam War. Being in a foreign environment, she was hesitant to communicate with the physician as he offered a soothing touch and asked about her current safety. Witnessing the cultural and healthcare barriers faced by immigrants through family and patients alike made me gain a deep appreciation for the trauma-informed care practiced by physicians to treat patients of disadvantaged backgrounds similar to Ari and my family. These experiences cultivated in me a desire to attain the medical education, skills, and cultural competency necessary to develop tailored and holistic treatment plans for patients like Ari.

My experiences compelled me to study public health and pursue opportunities in research as I enrolled at the University of Washington (UW). Interning in the Public Health Sciences Division at Fred Hutch, I led a research project investigating associations between tumor measurements and survival outcomes on a cancer clinical trial. As I collected data and read follow-up notes for each patient, learning their stories, I grew disheartened, frequently finding files labeled “Cause of Death.” Performing survival analyses with their data, I wished to meet and care for each patient and attach a name, face, and identity to their assigned six-digit ID, prompting me to seek out and shadow an oncologist in the network at UW Medical Center Montlake. Rounding and observing the care team’s approaches to developing treatment plans cemented my calling within medicine: I longed to be in the role of the physicians on the team, overseeing the health and treatment of patients on the frontline, and I recognized this path provided abundant opportunities to pursue all my interests in medicine and public health.

My research and shadowing experiences in the UW Medicine network inspired me to undergo training and become a licensed phlebotomist to gain hands-on patient experience and become further involved within the organization. One patient, “Will,” was on PrEP (HIV-prevention) medication and frequently visited for STI panels and an abundance of other tests, which often meant getting blood draws. Among our many interactions, we bonded over shared struggles and worries that came with being queer youth. Will confided in me about his journey to Seattle and the trauma he endured with a lack of acceptance from conservative relatives. I identified and empathized with him, and offered validation based on my similar experiences. Forming interpersonal and longitudinal relationships with diverse and marginalized patients like Will, while fostering an inclusive environment and contributing to treatment plans, left me wanting a bigger role–overseeing care with the level of medical expertise of a physician.

Providing care to sexual and gender minorities like Will also shaped my research interests in public and global health. My public health coursework taught me to analyze the unique inequities plaguing these marginalized groups using data-driven statistical methods; it wasn’t until I began fostering interpersonal relationships with the many patients at our clinic who identified as gay/bisexual cisgender men or transgender women, and learning their stories, that I was able to fully understand the magnitude that such inequities have on the quality of life of these individuals on a personal level. I pursued advanced coursework in epidemiology and biostatistics and returned to Fred Hutch in the Vaccine and Infectious Disease Division the following year to pursue epidemiologic research. I received mentorship from senior faculty as I conducted a research project and published a paper analyzing the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on sexual behaviors and access to HIV testing among sexual minorities in Peru. I plan to continue pursuing this research interest in global health throughout my schooling and career.

I aspire to provide care to underserved communities with compassion and cultural humility, acknowledging the unique identities of my patients and ensuring their stories don’t go unheard. Throughout my journey, I aim to reduce health disparities faced by immigrants, sexual minorities, and other marginalized groups. When reflecting on the statement “okagesama de,” there is not one singular person, but rather a span of experiences and interactions with others, that have shaped these goals. As a physician, I hope to provide patients with treatment plans to facilitate long-term improvements in their quality of life, ensuring their stories don’t have a premature ending like my father’s.