A Health Care Experience From an Immigrant Educator

“You speak such good English,” said my ophthalmologist as he stared into my dry eyes to assess my xeropthalmia. I stared back at him in composed confusion as I attempted to read his pensive face for the meaning of this statement. It did not help that I was just 6 months into my immigrant transition from Jamaica to Florida, with no prior experience with the U.S. health care system. Missing the warmth of the Caribbean Islands, I had stayed up countless nights binging on YouTube videos that reminded me of home. This in combination with preparing lectures for my new faculty position at a medical school, landed me with a case of dry eyes. I had no clue what my doctor meant with his comment on my diction, and I had an internal debate. I could feel myself getting tense and my grip on the chair getting tighter. I have always been anxious in a doctor’s office, and with so many questions running through my mind, it was hard to relax. I thought to myself, “Well, he doesn’t know I’m Jamaican, but my accent was not American, so is he assuming English is not my first language?” Challenged with what response to offer, my preset, knee-jerk response eventually came hesitantly from my lips, “Thank you.”