Peace Corps Chronicles - Part Three

When one says, "Not because they’re fundamentally incompetent, but because they have no reason to be any other way," does this also apply to the Peace Corps medical staff?

Government agencies often operate as maximalists, but at what cost? And at whose expense? In this case, beyond the excessive financial and time concerns, it is the human spirit that is at stake—whether it is uplifted or diminished. After hearing my stories and those of others, how do you feel? Have you faced similar emotional struggles while working with the Peace Corps or other government agencies?

Part 3 of My Unfulfilled Peace Corps Journey:

Medical Clearance: My Dream, Denied

The first time I logged into the Peace Corps medical portal, it showed a list of over 20 tasks for me to complete. Each task represented a personal statement, a specific test, screening, or clarification for past and present medical issues or treatments. “Okay,” I thought. “I can do this.”

Each applicant is assigned a dedicated nurse for medical clearance, and the medical portal serves as the only channel for communication. I believe my tasks were manageable since I had no chronic issues or treatments to deal with and hadn’t taken any medications for years—except for minor shoulder pain from playing too much tennis, which had healed after receiving a cortisone shot. However, due to the stringent and often obstinate requirements, more tasks emerged after each one was completed, bringing about a melancholy drama almost every time.

Six months in, after undergoing countless tests, re-tests, clarifications, and re-clarifications for non-issues, collecting and compiling information, and uploading and re-uploading reports, with many thousands of dollars spent throughout (with only a small reimbursement that there is still no sign of yet), I have arrived at one key requirement that has failed me. So, let's share this one first.

For the vaccination requirement, based on a long list of titer tests ordered by my family physician — a highly respected medical doctor in the community and beyond, who supported my Peace Corps endeavor wholeheartedly — Dr. G concluded that my Polio titers I and III indicate that I am immune. Polio II has been eradicated worldwide, and thus no test is available in the U.S.— not that it is necessary, anyway, since it is extinct. He was willing to write a letter about it for my medical clearance.

I submitted all the test results and Dr. G’s conclusion. The Peace Corps medical responded:

“Serologic testing is no longer indicated to assess immunity in persons vaccinated in countries other than the US therefore a full polio series is required if documentation is not available. We use CDC guidelines. Unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier, there is not enough time for you to be appropriately vaccinated before staging. A full polio series is 3 vaccines, one month apart.”

I mentioned on the medical portal, “In 2000, WHO certified Mongolia as a polio-free country. Mongolia has maintained this status ever since. Therefore, what is the risk of polio infection in Mongolia?”

The Peace Corps medical staff did not comment on my question at all, as if none of these factors mattered because they had a guideline to follow. This is just one of many examples of how the Peace Corps handled my medical clearance. For other applicants who may find it helpful (or those simply interested), more details will be shared in the next story.

I fully intended to follow their requirements, whatever it took—as I had done for many other requirements before the vaccine—so that I could blog about completely different stories of life and work experiences in the "Land of the Blue Sky" with an uplifting spirit rather than a gloomy one. Looks like that dream will remain forever a dream, because this polio vaccine requires three shots over more than three months; thus, it has instantly failed me. I couldn’t go as initially assigned, placed, and scheduled; as such, Mongolia has disappeared from my horizon. There is no alternative channel to communicate what Dr. G and I had to say, and no appeal process is provided for their decisions.

This lengthy, complex, and unforgiving process appears to be based on a few assumptions:

1. First, they assume the worst could happen to us, even without any scientific evidence to support this assumption (my tests show that I’m immune, and Mongolia has been a polio-free country for decades). This process has gone to great lengths to prevent something that doesn’t even exist.

2. Second, it has been completely one-way communication. Whatever we, as applicants and our decade-long family physicians, say about my test results, health conditions, and lifestyles would count for nothing.

3. Third, they have no intention of knowing us as individuals; instead, they allow the rigid, cookie-cutter process to dictate our eligibility, as if we were identical, machine-made objects. However, in reality, no two living beings are remotely similar. There are no Zoom (or even phone) calls to inquire about our well-being or how balanced or unhealthy our everyday lives are. Would this be equally, if not more, crucial than CMP and other lab testing results for sustaining a successful duty in a less developed country for 27 months?

It’s not just me, as I’ve learned after posting the first part of this article and its second part. Many have responded with overwhelmingly heart-warming remarks, and some have shared their similar experiences; one even scheduled a Zoom call to tell her story in great detail. Their surprisingly emotional and spiritual support has brightened my heart more than I could have imagined, making me realize that this failed journey is not a total loss after all, but has offered a distinctive meaning—one that success can’t provide—to me and others. Here are the key points of what a few others shared with me.

The President & CEO @ National Peace Corps Association responded first to my posts: “Thanks for sharing. I know the medical clearance process has become more difficult, and that many have complained of seemingly inexplicable or opaque processes. I hope you are able to find a pathway to service!” When I asked, “Why has no one from the inside been looking into this widely known detrimental situation?” He has not gotten back to me.

Another comment: “Cheng, sorry about your frustrating experience with PC medical clearance. You are not alone. I, and many others, have been through the same thing. As I prepared for my 3rd PC assignment, I was denied medical clearance only a couple weeks before departure.”

And another: “I was Peace Corps Volunteer in Mongolia. There was someone a year behind me who found out like a week before departure the PC wouldn’t let her go. She ended up coming to Mongolia a year later on her own and taught English at a university there… And BTW I feel your pain, I applied 14 months before I left for Mongolia and I didn't get final OK until a week or so before I left.”

One returned Peace Corps volunteer, a Ph.D. in education, messaged me that: “Thank you for your wise, compassionate, and indeed sad story. I was told by an applicant that a recent Peace Corps Response Volunteer (RCRV) shared with her that his understanding was that 50% of applicants are medically screened out!” She applied for the Peace Corps mission recently but was denied because her physician diagnosed her with a symptom of depression, which she completely disagreed with, and is in the process of resolving it with her physician. However, the Peace Corps left no time to rectify the issue and no room for her appeal. With so many details she shared with me, summarized by what her daughter said to her, “you are in an abusive environment.”

Over the last week or so, I've learned many more Peace Corps emotional and experiential narratives, which have made me realize that many applicants have faced significantly longer and more distressing challenges than I've. Some have demonstrated far greater determination than I have in pursuing their meaningful goals. Who am I to feel completely devastated by this single failure over just six months? However, the Peace Corps doesn't have to be the only way—or even the right way—to serve, as one reader, among many, commented: “Divine rejection can be divine protection. You look forward to seeing the next door that opens.” We shouldn’t "cut the feet to fit the shoes," which I cannot—and do not want to—do.

Government agencies tend to operate as maximalists, but we may wonder, “At what cost?” And “At whose expenses?” In this case, beyond excessive financial and time concerns, it’s the human spirit that is at stake—whether to uplift or diminish it. After hearing my narratives along with others, what are your thoughts? Have you or someone you know faced similar emotional struggles and setbacks?

Documenting our thoughts and sharing them with others is an extraordinary therapeutic healing process, more than anything else imaginable, as I have been doing over the past few weeks.

The difference in approaching this common goal appears to be that it’s purely a business undertaking for the Peace Corps medical staff; thus, it was unconscionable for them to feel, let alone express, compassion for the applicants. In contrast, for most volunteers, it’s anything but that. Our hearts must be in it before anything else, which appears to be the opposite on the other end.

When one says, "Not because they’re fundamentally incompetent, but because they have no reason to be any other way," does this also apply to the Peace Corps staff? What do you think about Ingrid Jacques's opinion article on USA TODAY: “Tune out media hysteria. DOGE is exposing absurdities, and Americans support it”?

I cannot speak for her opinion or those of many others. However, while grumbling about DOGE’s chainsaw falling on it, do the Peace Corps medical staff or management ever reflect on themselves for once? A simple change in mindset can help them see themselves as stakeholders rather than gatekeepers. By adopting a more practical and compassionate approach rather than a stringent one, they can achieve more desirable outcomes for all.

However, when power becomes absolute and is wielded to diminish rather than uplift the human spirit, the worst option is inaction and silence for those who feel the pain. I blog about my own experiences with the genuine intention that the Peace Corps organization will be at least receptive to criticism or provide counterarguments. There is still time for the Peace Corps to make a change to regain the public's confidence. Or am I being too childishly optimistic, again?

What about you? Do you have an experience you do not wish to be silent about? Or perhaps you have unique insight while working for or leading a Peace Corps group? Add your comments or criticisms to the discussion in the Comments Section below.

Edit: Add your comments to the discussion in the Comments section below, then check out Article Part 4 of My Unfulfilled Peace Corps Journey: How one private healthcare company managed my health—by getting to know me first.