we had a promise made
It's hard to go back to sleep after answering a 3 am crisis call.
I can handle being on call for Women's Health no problem - it's all medical questions that I know the answers to - usually just women being paranoid after their procedures. Stuff I know about.
But Verity is different. I was surprised that I didn't get a rush of fear right before I answered the phone, that I knew exactly how to introduce myself and get the conversation started. Maybe I just didn't have time to think about it. I didn't have time to freak out. I've been a crisis line counselor for weeks now, and this was my first call.
And now I can't sleep, thinking about someone else out there who can only fall asleep when it starts to become light outside because her assault happened at night.
When the call ended, I wanted to cry. Mostly because I felt fucking useless.
This world isn't fair.
I advocated alone at work for the first time today. For a woman going through meth withdrawals. She chose to be medicated before the procedure and I had to stare her in the face the entire time and tell her to breath while she held onto my arm for dear life.
After the doctor left the room, we talked for a bit. Women always feel like they need to explain why they're there. And they need you to validate the reason that they're there, need someone, anyone, to tell them that it's okay. I always listen to their entire story, knowing that I might be the only one in their life who tells them that, no, they are not a bad person. Yes, they did make the right decision if this is what they felt was best for them right now.
She started crying. She hadn't wanted to end her pregnancy but knew that it was the best thing to do, especially because of where she was in her life right now. She was trying to stop using drugs. She told me that she needed to grow up.
And then I started to tear up. And she looked at me and I looked at her and then we just started laughing because it was ridiculous that I was crying. She told me I was sweet and that she liked me. I walked with her to aftercare, introduced her to the nurse, and went on my way.
It's weird to be such a big part of someone's life for about 15 minutes, and then possibly never see them again.
A client came into the clinic the other day with one of her friends who was being seen. We had seen her in August and she had found out that she was pregnant. I was alone up front that day, and she came up to talk to me while her friend was in the bathroom.
She wanted to tell me about everything. She talked about the ultrasound she'd had where she could see her baby's heartbeat, all the of tests she had appointments for, how excited she was about everything. She's young. About 19 or 20. She told me she'd always known what she wanted to do after she found out she was pregnant.
I talked to her for over 5 minutes. About moving back in with her mom, about the father being a deadbeat and pressuring her to have an abortion, about the place she's been going to for prenatal care and loves.
I tear up so easily. I was afraid that she noticed. But it made me so happy that she chose to share everything with ME. She didn't have to tell me any of that, but she did. And it just made me fall back in love with everything that we do here. And everything that we stand for. Every single decision that a woman could make. On her own.
She made my day.
I can handle being on call for Women's Health no problem - it's all medical questions that I know the answers to - usually just women being paranoid after their procedures. Stuff I know about.
But Verity is different. I was surprised that I didn't get a rush of fear right before I answered the phone, that I knew exactly how to introduce myself and get the conversation started. Maybe I just didn't have time to think about it. I didn't have time to freak out. I've been a crisis line counselor for weeks now, and this was my first call.
And now I can't sleep, thinking about someone else out there who can only fall asleep when it starts to become light outside because her assault happened at night.
When the call ended, I wanted to cry. Mostly because I felt fucking useless.
This world isn't fair.
I advocated alone at work for the first time today. For a woman going through meth withdrawals. She chose to be medicated before the procedure and I had to stare her in the face the entire time and tell her to breath while she held onto my arm for dear life.
After the doctor left the room, we talked for a bit. Women always feel like they need to explain why they're there. And they need you to validate the reason that they're there, need someone, anyone, to tell them that it's okay. I always listen to their entire story, knowing that I might be the only one in their life who tells them that, no, they are not a bad person. Yes, they did make the right decision if this is what they felt was best for them right now.
She started crying. She hadn't wanted to end her pregnancy but knew that it was the best thing to do, especially because of where she was in her life right now. She was trying to stop using drugs. She told me that she needed to grow up.
And then I started to tear up. And she looked at me and I looked at her and then we just started laughing because it was ridiculous that I was crying. She told me I was sweet and that she liked me. I walked with her to aftercare, introduced her to the nurse, and went on my way.
It's weird to be such a big part of someone's life for about 15 minutes, and then possibly never see them again.
A client came into the clinic the other day with one of her friends who was being seen. We had seen her in August and she had found out that she was pregnant. I was alone up front that day, and she came up to talk to me while her friend was in the bathroom.
She wanted to tell me about everything. She talked about the ultrasound she'd had where she could see her baby's heartbeat, all the of tests she had appointments for, how excited she was about everything. She's young. About 19 or 20. She told me she'd always known what she wanted to do after she found out she was pregnant.
I talked to her for over 5 minutes. About moving back in with her mom, about the father being a deadbeat and pressuring her to have an abortion, about the place she's been going to for prenatal care and loves.
I tear up so easily. I was afraid that she noticed. But it made me so happy that she chose to share everything with ME. She didn't have to tell me any of that, but she did. And it just made me fall back in love with everything that we do here. And everything that we stand for. Every single decision that a woman could make. On her own.
She made my day.