Bliss J. Chang

When I walked into the exam room, Sarah, a 17-year-old girl, sat quietly beside her mother. As we began speaking, it became clear that there was an invisible barrier to our communication. Sarah is deaf, and her primary language is American Sign Language (ASL). Until then, her mother, who speaks Spanish and limited ASL, had always interpreted for her during doctor’s visits because no doctor had provided an ASL interpreter. As a result, Sarah had never experienced a direct conversation with a doctor.

As a pulmonary and critical care physician, I see patients every day struggling to breathe. Chronic lung diseases like COPD are relentless, robbing people of their independence, mobility, and, in many cases, their will to keep fighting. Many of these diseases are incurable, progressing over time and leaving patients with debilitating symptoms and a reduced quality of life.

Like many medical students, I entered residency eager to make a difference. I chose internal medicine for the intellectual stimulation and the ability to give and prescribe medications that could directly improve patients’ health. But over time, I realized something was missing. My path took an unexpected turn during the COVID-19 pandemic, and by my second year of residency, I knew psychiatry was where I belonged. Switching specialties is daunting — logistically, emotionally, and professionally.