A bitch spent last night in the emergency room…Barnes/Jewish on Kingshighway to be specific. My beloved sister, C-Money, had an allergic reaction to something and broke out in severe hives with alarming swelling of the hands and arms. She was in New York on business and flew back home around 6pm...a bitch had her in the emergency room by 7pm and we spent the evening there.
Let me tell everyone that C-Money is recovering well. We don’t know what set it off, but the meds are doing their thing.
And a bitch should also tell you that my ass is now in full post-traumatic event freak out. It will pass...
My sister and brother are my everything. There is no limit to my love for them and watching them suffer in any way is almost too much to take.
But a bitch is blessed and knows it…there were many other people in the emergency room who didn’t leave with their loved ones. And a bitch has had that experience...not the waiting in the room, but the result…the phone call that confirms that a life has ended and that nothing will ever be the same again.
So much happens in 5 hours. Group any random 45 individuals in a room together for 5 hours and life will happen, shit will go down and change will manifest.
This bitch wishes that everyone could have that type of experience and know it for what it is.
A bitch wishes that opponents to the morning after pill could sit in the assessment room. Would their eyes wander to the sexual assault protocol sheet on the wall? Would they allow themselves to ponder the 'what ifs', the 'there but for the grace of Gawd go I’s'…or would they ponder the tragedy of the fact that victims of a crime that ravaged choice from their physical bodies are now confronted with a medical situation that withholds choice for political gain?
Could they hear a young woman sobbing…see a young woman curl into her equally youthful friend as if she wanted to be absorbed into that body…as if she sought to fuse herself to that anchor and disappear? Would they see that? Would they…could they observe that and still speak about the morning after pill in that hollow and vacant voice that assumes the privilege of a life without molestation, rape or violation? Oh Gawd, a bitch couldn’t do it…and it broke my heart to witness such pain, such innocence…while sitting in that emergency room.
A bitch wishes everyone could witness the glory of familial love. How absolute it is…how wrenching in physical display. Just once...to sit in a room and see an elderly black man sit with startlingly erect posture in a wheel chair. Just once...to hear a nurse ask his companion if he can be moved…to see that companion turn and lean forward, gently take that fragile hand and ask softly if it was okay…then turn to the nurse and say “This is my Grandfather and I will move anywhere you need me to be.” Could they witness that and question the struggle for adequate healthcare? Would they gaze upon that and talk in terms of numbers…budgets…objectives and motherfucking priorities? Lawd, give me strength…a bitch couldn’t do it. My eyes were trapped…our gazes locked and everything a bitch was feeling was mirrored in that man’s frustrated gaze, which said to me.."This life…this man…this beloved family member is my priority. No budget…nothing means more than that at this moment."
Yes, my brother...nothing.
This bitch wishes that everyone could hear the laughter of an infant break through the silence of worry. If y’all could have seen the joy on that baby’s face…the pure happiness in his mischievous laughter. To witness the love wash over his grandmother’s face…and every face in the room. Oh it was so beautiful…old and young, White, Black, Asian and Hispanic…all turning towards that beautiful sound and smiling. You just couldn’t help but smile. It was a common joy…a much needed reminder of life. If we can share that in an emergency room, why on Earth can’t we share the rest of this shit out here?
And this bitch wishes everyone could hear their loved one’s name called and walk back to the treatment room with them without pause. A bitch wishes that everyone could listen to a doctor talk about medication and know that they can afford it…that the emergency room visit was 'covered'…that this essential treatment was going to happen without delay.
A bitch wishes that everyone left the emergency room and went home to fret over their loved one…and not the paperwork, the bills, the challenges, the decisions...the fucking compromises that now make up the American healthcare experience for far too many.
A bitch is blessed and my ass just wishes everyone could be…that’s my prayer, my wish…my mission…my work…
May you all be so blessed…and may those of us who are know it.