!! Patient X !!

One of the problems (just one? ha...no one of trillions) was how I felt like Patient X. Let me explain.

Imagine something straight out of a movie or history books, something like the holocaust. People go in with a story on their face, their clothes say who they are, their hair indicates their age, you can see a person just by looking at them.
Strip them of their clothes, shave their head, put them in a smock, and they all look like clones of each other. Expressionless, non-human clones.

Patient X.

That's how I felt. Once you change, everything changed. All of us in our disposable uniforms: little blue booties, stupid blue paper smock with a white ribbon for the waist and white tape to close it up around your neck, and a stupid blue shower cap doodad that I refused to put on until the very end because I already felt bad enough.

not that you couldn't tell the employees/nurses from the patients, but it was like we were just lab rats or experiments walking around the scientists, with our uniforms to make us all non-human...it was like this was the uniform of The Stupid Irresponsible Girl.

which i know isn't realistic...considering one chick was there because she was having a miscarriage anyway but it was hurting too much and she had to take care of her other kids so she wanted to get it over with

I was so happy when I could put my clothes back on again. I mean, "happy". I kept the little booties for some reason, probably because i'm my mother daughter and I hate throwing things out when i'm sure i can find some obscure reason to use them.

This post probably made no sense. But this Patient X thing has gone though my mind quite often, and it felt like I had lost a voice, an opinion, emotion while i was Patient X. My hand pain didn't matter...becuase I was Patient X. It felt like i could have ran around screaming "fire!" and no one would have listened.

I wonder what other people wear when they get abortions. I wonder if they felt as much of a douche as I did wearing those stupid outfits, carrying my plastic bag of my stuff like a homeless lady about to get sterilized.


Anonymous said...

i didn't get a special outfit. i had on the bottom of a ob/gyn-visit exam sheet and my tank top and hoodie and super-low socks from costco. afterwards, they made me change into my oversized, super-soft cargo shorts. i kept the tank top and socks on when my boyfriend (at the time) brought me to the beach while he and his friend played on boogie boards.

the beach is the perfect place to be after an abortion.

solitude and fingers through sugary sand and mind-numbing surf pounding through all of your thoughts are pretty helpful, though. being asked to change into a bikini? not so much...


Monica Geller said...

BIKINI...omg...i had to stick with baggy sh*t to hide the 1970's pad I had on.

Dude...boogie boarding after...I yelled at Chandler because he kept pacing and wouldn't lie down next to me, but he did wrap me up in blankets and set up a laptop to play I Am Legend (hence my zombie nightmares lately)...if he wanted to do something fun/social I probably would have performed a D&C on him.

I am so grateful you are no longer with the Ex. I picture you with an older guy...not some college kid who can't sacrifice one mutha effing afternoon. Damn girl...your game face must be good.

Anonymous said...

I just find it mind boggling that you sit here complaining about how you were treated etc at the clinic. But you mistreated your own unborn BABY by killing it.

Shut up. It looks good on you :)

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