Friday, May 22, 2015

In the hallways of San Francisco General Hospital: (or) I don't do blood very well....


Love to you all from the Tenderloin!  It’s the 7th anniversary of Because Justice Matters.  I’m in Redding hanging out with my BF MaryBeth and my BJM sisters are having brunch (of course) back in San Francisco. Sisters, forever!
A friend posted a pic of a medical provider with the caption, “I’m a nurse. Obliged to provide top-notch care and comfort – even to people with freaking swastikas tattooed on their flesh.  If I can take care of Nazi sympathizers, they can serve pizza to gay people.”
Yesterday with a friend at San Francisco General Hospital. Whoa! This is what healthcare looks like for the urban poor....In the hallways. HALLWAYS, mind you… I saw medical procedures being done. Discussions of confidential information with patients.
Nurses and Docs treating angry, confused drunk people (overheard said to thrashing, confused guy by kind resident with a smile: "It's okay, we're just getting some fluid into you beside beer"), mentally ill people (one screamed over and over and OVER "I'm going to a better place" until another patient muttered, 'You could go there now...'  have to admit, she was saying what I was too “nice” to say….)
Disturbing, sexually inappropriate, bad-smelling men from the streets. "Failed" suicide attempts with blood everywhere (evidently, I don’t do blood well…felt kinda queasy). Sirens outside followed by yelling. Nurse said it was a really bad car accident. Some guy with a truly amazing vocabulary of profanity who threatened people and had to have a police officer standing by.
I had one of my “Jesus, here we are” moments. Part of me wanted to leave and take a walk in the park.  Any park. Part of me wanted to start down the crowded, noisy hallway, going bed to bed. Smiling. Touching gently. Praying. Saying, “Jesus is here. You aren’t invisible.”  Sometimes I laugh at the weird places where I suddenly feel at home (except for the blood…ick)
Had a momentary flash of that unsmiling security guard escorting me from the building and me having to leave my friend mid-x-ray…so I didn’t cross the chicken line.  Wondering if I should go back.  My beautiful Jesus could clear that ER and send everyone home healed. Am I brave enough to do what I see my Father in heaven doing?
But, this brings me to the actual purpose of telling this story. The nurse and the ‘freaking swastikas’….
In the 4+ hours I spent there, never, not once, did I hear anyone ask a patient, "Are you gay?... Are you divorced?... Put on this hajib or I won’t help you.”
I didn't even hear anybody say, "Are you Christian? Because I'm gay and I don't like the way your people treat me."
Now, maybe I know some “Indiana-type sympathizers” who don’t want to be forced to do things they believe support lifestyles with which they disagree (translate: don’t want to bake wedding cakes for gay weddings or be a real estate agent for gay couples looking for houses).  I don’t know…
And, I must acknowledge that a Michigan pediatrician refused to act as primary care doctor for a newborn patient when she realized the baby’s parents were two women.  And, I am in the “affirming” camp just so you don’t think I’m somebody I’m not.   But…
These two stories feel important to me. 
Recently I asked some 20 and 30 something young women…smart, very well educated, compassionate, aware….why they rejected Christianity.  Here are (in my words) their reasons: the cruel, intentionally rejecting way they saw Christians treat gay people, Christians who reject science because they “don’t believe in global warming” and don’t have a clue why.  Misogyny in the church (all men all the time). And, Christians blaming women for “dressing immodestly” instead of teaching men to keep their eyes and hands to themselves.  (A couple mentions of the Duggers being “bat shit crazy”….but that was sort of comic relief….)
The witness of Jesus is harmed by Christians who appear to be more concerned about the gay couple down the block who want to be married than they are about the homeless mom and kids sleeping on the street or the working poor who must choose between paying bills and buying medication.
I’m gonna scrounge around and see if I still have my What Would Jesus Do bracelet…

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