At Los Angeles Jewish Health, Care Is a Two-Way Street
At Los Angeles Jewish Health, Care Is a Two-Way Street
For nearly 20 years, Hangnga Vu, MD, has been a source of vital care and comfort for residents at Los Angeles Jewish Health (LAJH). They rely on her profound knowledge and skill to help them meet critical daily health challenges—and, over the course of two decades, she has come to rely on them for the abundant grace and wisdom they offer.
Recently, after recovering from a minor virus that triggered a bout of vertigo, Dr. Vu realized just how powerful that grace and wisdom could be.
“After getting better from being sick, I was back at work and participating in an event celebrating LAJH’s Staff Appreciation Week. My colleagues and I were dancing a little, which must have caused my vertigo to resurface,” she says. “Later that day, I was meeting with a resident when I lost my balance and tipped over a glass of water that had been sitting on my desk. The liquid spilled everywhere.”
Dr. Vu was initially uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability in front of a resident—until the resident demonstrated the kind of compassion and understanding that often comes with age.
“He said, ‘You did well, Dr. Vu. You handled that nicely,’” she recalls. “In that moment, I knew he was caring for me as much as I was caring for him. I was also incredibly grateful to my medical assistant, who treated me with such gentleness and respect.”
As Dr. Vu sees it, the reciprocal relationship between providers and patients is just one of the many things that makes LAJH special.
“I’ve worked for other healthcare organizations, and I can tell you that you usually get 15 minutes with a patient, and that’s it,” she says. “LAJH is different: Even though we know cost-effectiveness and efficiency are important, we place even more emphasis on quality care and love. Our productivity is measured by the wonderful care we provide and by how happy our residents are to be here.”
Inspired by her experience, Dr. Vu wrote a poem that was published this fall in the newsletter of the Post-Acute and Long-Term Care Medical (PALTmed) Association. It is our privilege and pleasure to share it with Connections readers today.

Messy Grace: A Flood of Care
by Hangnga Vu, MD
Today at work, we had Appreciation Lunch —
music, food, dancing…
I joined in for a few steps,
playing along like I had rhythm.
Just a few steps —
and the stars spun above me under the hot California sun.
In the middle of clinic —
while talking, while examining —
I knocked over a full cup of water
across the desk,
drenched the papers,
flooded the floor…
My head spun.
My heart, too.
The patient sat there — not upset at all —
watching me as if witnessing a gentle… summer flood.
My medical assistant,
remained calm.
No sighs, no scolding.
She simply smiled —
and began mopping the floor,
as if picking up the day, piece by piece.
The patient looked at me and said: “You did well, Dr. You handled it nicely.”
I laughed, a little stunned
Because yes…
I had just received a performance review on flood management.
And just like that —
doctor and patient
set the stethoscope aside,
and shared a moment simply… human. The assistant turned to me and said:
“Dr, you should sit down.
I don’t want you to fall.
I can do it easily.”
Then she held my hand.
One hand cleaned,
the other — and her heart —
steadied me.
At that moment,
I knew I was being cared for.
Not because I was flawless —
but because I was surrounded by people kind enough to lift me
even when I was messy.
I told them, honestly:
“In that moment, I was just… myself.
No filters.
And still — gently held.”
Today was Staff Appreciation Week.
But I believe —
I was the one most deeply appreciated.
I have some nice photos:
with another medical assistant,
with a few lovely patients.
But none with this patient,
the one who shared the messiest part of my day.
And maybe that’s the point:
The deepest kindness
often needs no proof.
Just a quiet presence —
and a floor gently wiped.
Thank you, B.
Thank you, TP.
Thank you to those who didn’t appear in any photos today,
but left a print… right in my heart.