Where Does It Hurt?

Natalie Abrahamian
(Los Angeles, CA, USA)

I vividly remember the day when I first held my tickets in my hand. I think it was on a rainy day in November. It felt very surreal to know that I had been preparing for this trip to Armenia for about two years, and I finally had a concrete departure date. Now, I’ve been back home for about a week, and I can’t help but reflect back to my experience with a smile on my face.

I left my home in America with no expectations whatsoever. Regardless of what my peers and family members advised me to do, I was hesitant to believe that this “cookie-cutter” representation of Armenia was going to be waiting for me 7,000 miles away. I couldn’t have been more right.

Through my experience in the motherland, I was able to expose myself to a unique academic opportunity that was crafted by my own hands, but absorbed by the ears and wounds of local physicians and patients, respectively. My mentors at Fund for Armenian Relief and Yerevan State Medical University profoundly helped ripen my experience in Armenia. It’s such an amazing feeling to be able to discuss new research findings in cholinesterase inhibitor drugs and the concept of health insurance policy with those who not only want to listen, but also want to give.

I can confidently say that I learned much more than I taught during my experience in Armenia. I learned about how green the fields of Kharabagh become during the summertime. I learned about the multiple types of fermented fruit that can be used to distil vodka. I learned about what its like to live without water for a few days. Most importantly, I learned how to push my limits.

Life is never only about the four walls that we find ourselves in. My experience in Armenia helped me break that fourth wall and discover what it feels like to be on the other side.

I want to complete my entry with a little story that will always stay in my heart:

A few days before I left Armenia, I was completing my regular rounds at a nursing home in the Bangladesh region of Yerevan for my geriatric risk prevention intervention project. I had the opportunity to interview about one hundred older adults that day, and almost every single one of them complained about pain, hopelessness, or another issue with their quality of life.

I had finally reached the door of my last older adult of the day. I knocked, and he accepted me into his room with a warm welcome.

I asked him the standardized set of questions, and as I was getting ready to leave, he mentioned that he wanted to share something with me. I listened with open ears.

He said, “Dear girl, look at me. I know that I am completely blind and have no right leg or left arm, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. I have never been happier in my life”.

He then proceeded to ask me to cover my eyes for a few seconds and asked, “ See what I mean?”