01/26/2026
I often participate in student interviews. I’m asked to answer questions about the field of , my experience, my background and more. I’ve never gotten emotional during these interviews as they are typically just upbeat and educational based but today I did…
During this interview, this student asked me if I could recall a moment in my career where I was able to see the impact that art therapy and what I was offering had on others. The very first one that came to mind immediately was years ago, my first real job as an .
I worked in Maimonides Medical Center in Brooklyn helping to care for acute, chronic and terminally ill kids on the pediatric unit. I have very fond memories of my time there but also many sad memories. When this question was asked my brain immediately brought me to a time when I worked with a young man, a teen, as he struggled with osteosarcoma, a bone cancer. This teen and I had worked together often due to his many visits to the hospital. Sometimes his visits were short due to fevers and other such reactions, sometimes his visits were much longer.
We did draw together, we also played video games together—he’d often slay on Rock Band, with me as a sad excuse for a bandmate. But we also chatted, a lot. Towards the end of his life his visits became more difficult, procedures and surgeries.
The one memory that stood out, when asked the question about impact, was one of these difficult days. I cannot remember the specific procedure that was coming up but this young man was asked who he’d want in the room with him in the PICU during that time . Not many were allowed, it had to be limited. He evidently asked for me. When I was told this by the attending my heart was racing, I was so nervous. Me? How could he want me there? What am I going to do to help him? I remember my supervisor at the time telling me that if he requested me that’s all I need to know. And so I went…
I was emotional before it started (not in his presence) and then I walked in, held his hand and chatted with him just like we were alone in the video game room and not surrounded by doctors, which we were. He was one of the bravest kids I’ve ever known.