Have you ever listened to walls cry??? I feel like I have always lived in a bubble in New England. We see things on the news, and we read things on the internet and in books, about those ” heated topics” and they are always just in 2D not 3D. Its like once we log off, or fold up the news paper, those stories that actual people are living in this world, just disappear into the table at Starbucks only to be picked up mid afternoon and tossed in the trash. I guess I have been very ignorant as the rest of us, something I am trying very hard to change.
I am the girl who worked on a dairy farm in MN, and had NO CLUE what actually went on in the dairy industry until then. (I didn’t drink milk for 2 months after!!) I am learning that I can not, and will not pass judgment on any topic until I have actually placed myself into the scene. Yesterday, I went on a day of errands with my roomie, seemed like a normal day, bank, agencies, and Starbucks. The last thing on our list to do was go to the women’s clinic for her appointment for family planning. No sweat, I have a “lady Dr” at home and I have no problem going to her office, so we took the bus to the very edge of town to be there on time.
Odd, my “lady Dr” does not work in a building surrounded by a massive fence, and a random button to ring to get inside. Odd, I don’t have to ring another bell to get inside the door once I have already rang a bell to get inside the fence. This place looked like the prison in Middleton, only I think this place had more layers of security to get inside the front door. Inside was just as “interesting”, more security cameras then a casino and the glass protecting the receptionist was thicker then any glass I have ever seen at a bank. I was defiantly out-of-place there, I sat with my backpack on my lap in my pink sundress, petrified to move or make eye contact with anyone in this room.
Never in a million years would I have ever thought I would be sitting in one of these “clinics”, I was shaking with fear/anger/sadness and confusion. I have read about these places, being stormed by angry gun men, and people being shot as they left, and here I am just there with my roomie for her to get more B.C. pills. I sat in that room and waited for what seemed like a week (2.5 hours), and I never want to see or experience anything like that again. I could hear yelling, crying, screaming and the awful buzzing of the front gate and door. After a short time I swear the buzz of the security locks turned into the sound of chain saws in my head. I am surprised that when my roomie was done she didn’t find me rocking in a corner crying myself.
When I got home I could not get out of the shower, it was like I was trying to wash away the clinic from my mind. I am very open-minded on that topic, and think all women should be able to make their own decisions for themselves, I just never got that close to the ” fire”. That 2 hours has been burned into my brain for a life time, I will never be able to flush it away, purge it for new memories, or cover it up with a nice piece of art, its deeply rooted there and will be till the day I die. Making a decision seems like the hard part, but after yesterday, I respect all decisions………………………………………