KANKAKEE, Ill. (AP) - Marcos Barajas keeps a small ship in a bottle model of the Mayflower on his desk. It’s just a trinket, something he picked up on a tour of Plymouth. But there’s something poetic about it sitting in his office, among papers, lab sample containers and even an old centrifuge. Much like the pilgrims, Barajas came to the United States looking for something more.
Barajas and his parents arrived in the United States from Mexico when he was 10. He did well in school, was valedictorian of his high school class and then got his bachelor’s degree at Governors State University. That’s when Barajas had to make an important decision. He’s living under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals policy, which allows undocumented people who came to the country as minors to continue living here in blocks of two-year periods, but makes it difficult to navigate many issues, including enrollment in medical school.
With his legal status unclear, Barajas put medical school on hold to start a more important project. “Instead of sitting twiddling my thumbs or smoking, I found an alternative to med school, which was helping the community,” he said.
Barajas opened the Hippocrates Medical Clinic in fall 2016 and recently moved to a new location at 606 E. Court St., where his team of office managers, doctors, nurse practitioners and students see more patients than ever. The donation-only clinic is staffed entirely by unpaid volunteers, and has served more than 650 patients at an estimated total cost of $46,000. Unlike many free clinics that are only able to provide basic family care, Hippocrates offers physical and mental therapy, gynecological services, and minor surgical procedures.
At its original location, the providers at Hippocrates saw about 15 patients per day. Now, they see that many before noon.
“I’m used to having everything I need,” said Kylee Ladd, a physician’s assistant who volunteers at the clinic once per month. “I’m used to being able to refer people. People here might need an X-ray and refuse it because they can’t afford to have it done.”
But the patients keep coming, and the staff expects to see even more after the Affordable Care Act likely is repealed.
On only its third day open, the new location was busy. Patients sat on plastic folding chairs in the entryway, the smell of fresh paint hung in the air, and little kids played on the floor while waiting to be seen. Although he works two paying jobs in addition to his time at the clinic, Barajas never seemed exhausted by the chaos around him. Every moment in the clinic, he was bombarded with questions - Did he know where the office manager can find a power strip? Was there any preservation liquid for a patient’s tissue sample?
“I play the CEO, but I’m also the custodian, I’m the nurse, I’m — ” Mid-interview, someone knocked on the door. A patient in the other room needed a translator. “I forgot to say I’m also the interpreter.”
“I find the people here are exceptionally grateful and gracious, more than people who have insurance and are used to the better things in life,” said Connie Perry, one of two office managers.
As Barajas and his team settle into the new building, volunteers and patients regularly drop in to help, painting walls, cleaning floors and installing light fixtures. At his new location, Barajas is closer than ever to his dream of “a free medical clinic run by the community and for the community to help those in need.”
Barajas worries, though. Every two years, he pays $600 to have his DACA status renewed, and he’s uncertain about what will happen to him in the current political climate.
“There are times I’ve had to talk to the staff and say, ’if something happens to me I want to make sure you know how to run things,’” he said.
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Source: The (Kankakee) Daily Journal, https://bit.ly/2l6zC6z
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Information from: The Daily Journal, https://www.daily-journal.com
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