1/ Today is #WorldAIDSDay and I'm reflecting on the time that I got my first voluntary HIV test.
Wait.
I take that back. I am reflecting on the time that I decided to submit a narrative about my experience getting my first voluntary HIV test for publication.
Meta, I know.
2/ So I'd written this narrative back in 2008. And the fast story is that it was about me being a hypocrite about pressing a patient to be tested for HIV when I had never been voluntarily tested myself. Why?
Because I was scared.
Yup.
3/ I put that all on paper. Spoke this truth about being afraid and how my fear was rooted in the growing numbers of Black women impacted by HIV.
I mean. That's what I told myself.
But then I asked my colleague/wondertwin @DMalebranche to read it & give me some peer feedback.
4/ Him: "You say you were afraid because of what you had in common with your patient?"
Me: "Yeah. It was an ah hah moment. Like her, I'm a Black woman."
*silence*
Him: "But is that really why you were afraid?"
Me: *scrunching face* "I'm not sure what you mean."
5/ Him: "You said you wanted to be brave in telling this story, right?"
Me: *furrowing brow* "Right. . . ."
Him: "Then be honest."
Me: *squinting* "But I was."
Him: "But were you? Fear comes down to risk and stigma. And risk comes down to behavior. Period."
Period.
6/ Him: "I'm not saying this isn't powerful. But the thing is--your fear wasn't because you're a Black woman. That alone didn't put you at risk for HIV, sis. A behavior did."
Ooph.
Him: "You want to be brave?"
Me: "I want to be brave."
Him: "Then be honest."
Whew.
7/ With that feedback, I added this edit:
"And was it exactly the fact that I was a young, black woman like my patient that scared me? Or was it really that, at some point, I had knowingly put myself at risk, just like my patient?"
Because risk comes down to behavior. Period.
8/ I stared at it for a few days. I'd take that part out. Then put it back. Then take it out again.
Ultimately, I put it back in. And hit send.
I was equal parts elated & terrified when @JAMA_current accepted it less than 72 hrs after I sent it in.
I called David crying.
9/ Me: "Shit. What have I done?"
Him: "You were honest. You were brave."
Me: "I was stupid. I'm going to look bad."
Him: "You're going to look HUMAN."
*silence*
Him: "Look. You stood up for your pt by showing that she's not alone. That's dope."
That made me feel better.
10/ And so. Today, on #WorldAIDSDay2020, I'm reflecting on that pivotal peer-mentored lesson in empathy. @DMalebranche helped me to see that reducing stigma calls for acknowledging not just the humanity of our patients, but our own as well.
Period.👊🏾
JAMA. 2008;300(5):483-484
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1/ Stepped onto the Grady elevator last week. A Grady elder tipped his cap to me and nodded.
Me: “Good morning.”
Him: “Good morning, doc.”
*silence*
Him: “I like your hairdo.”
Me: *patting head* “Thanks, sir.”
Him: “I see you let them greys come on in, huh?”
*laughter*
2/ Me: “Yeah. Went on and let ‘em do what they wanted even at the risk of looking older.”
Him: *scowls* “Older than who?”
Me: “Older than my age. . . or just older than I want to look.”
He turned his mouth downward and nodded.
Him: “Mind me asking your age?”
3/ Me: *nervous laugh* “I would say guess but I’m scared of what you’ll say.”
Him: *squints* “Hmm. You somewhere ‘tween ‘bout . . .mmm 45, 50 or so.”
Me: “50.”
Him: *nods and shrugs* “Yeah that seem ‘bout right.”
Me: “Wow. That’s cold.”
Me: "Hey there. . . Mr. Jones? I’m Dr. Manning. I’m the new senior doctor on your team."
Him: *arms folded in chair and staring at floor* "Mmm hmm."
Me: “Good to meet you.”
*silence*
I noticed his long, long legs extending across the linoleum.
2/ Me: “Hmm. Let me guess...are you... 6’4? 6’5?"
Him: *eyeroll*
*silence*
Him: "That's a dumb-ass question.”
Me: “My bad, sir. Guess I was just curious and thought I'd ask."
Him: "Go on and get curious 'bout these lungs, hear?"
Yikes.
3/ Mr. Jones took exaggerated breaths as I auscultated his back. Lungs had good air exchange. He wasn't requiring oxygen. And, according to the respiratory therapist, he was tolerating less frequent breathing treatments.
1/ She almost ran me over. Right outside the Grady entrance by Jesse Hill Jr. Drive.
Her: "Sorry, 'scuse me!"
She blew by panting and didn’t even look in my direction. As she did, her right shoulder shrugged hard to secure the diaper bag sliding off of it.
Me: “It’s okay.”
2/ Her young face was troubled and full of urgency and determination. Too much urgency if you asked me. But so very determined.
The next words she spoke were for the preschooler who, instead of keeping up with her, was studying me.
Her: "Come on! I said we in a hurry!"
3/ I playfully raised my eyebrows and wiggled my fingers at the child who, instead of smiling back, recoiled toward her mother. Still, as they passed me by, she craned her neck keeping those eyes trained on me in my long white coat.
1/ Few things excite me more than seeing someone win an award in which I helped prepare the #awardnomination.
BEST.
THING.
EVER.
After lots of winning (and losing) nominations—and awards committees—I’ve developed an approach.
Let’s discuss, shall we?
2/ Okay, so let’s break this thing down like this using these 5 Ws:
WHO
WHAT
WHEN
WHERE
WHY
I like to start here before proceeding. Why? Because an honest assessment is key before passing go.
Feel me?
3/ Let’s be concrete:
WHO/WHAT: What’s the award & is it suitable for the individual? Are they in the target group?
WHEN: Do you have time to prepare a strong nomination by the deadline or nah?
WHERE/WHY: National? Regional? How can this advance your colleague?
1/ Typing notes & earhustling at the nurses’ station:
Older lady: "Where you been?"
Younger lady: "I lost my grandmother so was away."
OL: *looks sad* "Oh, really? Baby, I'm so sorry for your lost."
YL: "Loss."
Me: *looks up from computer*
OL: "Beg pardon?"
OMG. OMG. OMG.
2/ YL: "You said 'LOST.' It's my LOSS that you’re sorry for."
Me: *mouthing after tiny gasp* "Oh snaaaaap!"
*awkward silence*
YL: "No T. Like, LOST is mostly a verb and LOSS is a noun."
Me: *silent scream into fist*
*silence*
(actual GIF of me in that moment)👇🏾
3/ OL: "Well. Okay. I'm sorry for all of it whatever the hell you call it."
YL: "Just say LOSS with an S not LOST like a lost and found."
OL: "Wait. Am I giving you condolences and you gon' give me. . . . a grammar lesson?”
*super duper awkward silence while OL glares at her*