I grew up in Taiwan. I barely spoke English when I came to the United States.
When I arrived, the only words I understood were “hello” and “thank you.” Though I was young and eventually learned English, my parents never did. Like many immigrant families, we built our life around the places where they could be understood.
One day, my mom had a medical emergency.
We rushed to the hospital, trusting that once we walked through those doors, she would be okay.
Instead, we waited 15 minutes for a phone interpreter.
When the interpreter finally came on the line, some of what she told the doctors was lost. She was misdiagnosed and sent home on the wrong medication.
Two days later, we rushed her back with severe complications. Doctors emphasized she was lucky to have made it that long.
Language should never decide whether a patient is heard, correctly diagnosed, or safely treated. That is why we built Opalite.
