Thread by @gradydoctor

1/
Discharge day

Me: “Couple more updates—so I spoke our social worker. We’ve got some ways to help.”
You: *staring at me*
Me: “Also the pharmacist worked the stuff out with your insulin pen. They’ll be right over to help with that. Oh! And I found the pill box.”

*silence*

2/

Me: "You okay?"
You: "Yeah. I’m good.”
Me: "Okay. I thought maybe something was wrong.”

You fixed your eyes on me and shook your head. Hard.

Me: “What?”
You: *sigh* "I'm just tripping, that’s all."
Me: *squinting* "Tripping off of what?"

3/
You: "I was just thinking. . like every time I see y'all . . .everybody be hustling to help me. Almost like y’all really, truly give a shit about whether I live or die."

*silence*

I placed the pill container on the tray table and sat down.

4/
You took in a big drag of air and shook your head again.

Me: "I mean. . . we do care.”

You reached for the pill container to place it into your bag.

Me: “Oh—the pharmacist is still coming to go over stuff, remember? Let’s leave that out for now.”

5/
You went silent again.

Me: “You sure you okay?”
You: “I guess I'm just not used to people in my life giving a shit about much of anything. And especially not about me."

You released a complicated chuckle when you said that. I stayed quiet.

6/
You: “Like. . . It’s crazy to see all the commotion to help a former addict who did some hard time. I just . . .” *shakes head* “I don’t know. Seem like somebody else should be gettin’ all this energy. Somebody who deserve it.”

You were dead serious. I wanted to cry.

7/
I started to launch into a soliloquy about what you deserve. About how much we do care and how effed up this system and this world is that landed you in this place before you were even born. About how you matter now and always did.

I started to. But I didn’t.

8/
Instead I just touched your arm. And slowed down all of my movements and waited.

Because I can show you better than I can tell you.

You: “Everybody been so nice, man. Like. . . why? It’s kinda . . . “

Your voice cracked and you stopped. Tears mounted in your eyes.

9/
Just then the PharmD came in.

PharmD: “Oh good, you got the pill box.” *looking side to side* “Oh—I can come back.”
You: *patting eyes*“Nah. We okay.”

You looked over at me and winked.

You: “Dr. Manning was trying to make a brother cry up in here.”

*laughter*

10/
Me: “I think crying is a good thing!”
You: “Yeah?”
Me: “Oh yeah. I stay crying.”
You: “That mean you feel something. I’m cool with that.”
Me: “Good. Now let’s get cool with this insulin pen.”

*laughter*

PharmD: “You ready, sir?”
You: “Yup. Let’s do it.”

11/
And with that, I told you goodbye and left you with the pharmacist. And that was it.

Yup.

But even after you left, I was haunted by that exchange. I wish I’d asked you how to build a caring alliance with someone who has never felt valued by the world.

Or anyone.

12/
You probably would have shrugged and asked me why I was being so heavy. And we would’ve laughed.

But perhaps that conversation alone would be part of the solution. Slowing down. Showing up. And staying.

Show. Don’t tell.

At least, that’s a start.

Sigh. I don’t know.

13/

I hope we can all experience a caring commotion for our benefit. And that we in healthcare keep pushing toward a system that allows every person to believe they deserve it.

Showing. Not just telling.

Or at least trying.

Yeah.

#humanismalways 💛
#healthdisparities