Two weeks ago, my phone rang. It was my sister, calling as she always does, with her familiar blend of love, chaos and Caribbean urgency. But this time was different. She told me her friend was being discharged from the hospital after a stroke – uninsured, struggling to walk and suffering from significant right-side weakness, with no clear plan to care for himself.
Before she finished speaking, the clinician in me took over. I asked if he had been diagnosed with hypertension and whether he was taking his medications. Deep down, I already knew the answer. She confirmed it, explaining he wasn’t on medication and was instead relying on garlic and moringa tea.
