LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
Student CAMP |
by Kristen Minor |
To Our Health
I am pleased to announce that I am not pregnant. I have not strayed to the other side, nor have I seriously entertained the possibility of even getting pregnant. However, the same-day surgery unit of the local hospital is apparently bent on me being with child. I recently went there to undergo minor nerve surgery in my elbow. I'm not the most ideal patientI have a tendency to view hospitals as antiseptic boxes of death and money loss instead of the sanctums of healing that of course they are. As a young child I often had ear problems. The first and last time that I decided to struggle with my doctor happened to be when he was employing a microscopic vacuum cleaner to suction out my ear. I turned my head and the mini-Hoover hit my eardrum. After regaining coherence, I lay like a corpse and reflected on my newest lesson: Never mess with doctors. With this lesson running through my head, I discussed with an anesthesiologist if I would undergo local or general anesthetic. We settled on local, and then he asked if there was any chance I could be pregnant. I assured him that there was none whatsoever, and the matter was settled. When I got to the hospital the morning of the operation, though, the nurse inquired when my last menstruation was. The date didn't immediately spring to mind (I suspect that keeping track is a heterosexual thing) and the nurse handed me a cup. I opened my mouth to protest, but the sacred rule ran through my mind and I realized that it would not be good to piss off the woman who would later be inserting an IV in my arm. Some time later while I was feeling quite vulnerable in my gown she came by and informed me that I wasn't going to have twins. I told her that my girlfriend and I were hoping for triplets. Actually, I had just been sedated, so it came out sounding like "grulkx mfwaaa twinkab." Boy, did I show her. The next several days were fairly nightmarishI slept on the couch constantly, only waking up to take another painkiller to put me back to sleep. I managed to have an entire conversation with my girlfriend and not remember a word. She assures me that we spoke of nothing important, but I'm convinced that she confessed all of her darkest secrets because she knew I wouldn't remember. There was something about 6 pounds of dry ice. Once the delirium slipped away, I couldn't stop thinking about health care. A long series of "what ifs" went through my mindI had visions of Vanessa Redgrave being denied access to her lover's bedside because she was not family in If These Walls Could Talk 2. (Because of my cast I found being on the computer too frustrating, which sparked a two-week hiatus. I had nothing better to do than cook up nightmare scenarios.) What scared me was that if something happened to myself or Jennifer, as things stand right now we might be denied hospital access to one another if anything should happen. I never feel so old as I do when figuring out the thorny process by which a gay couple becomes A Gay Couple. Power of attorney, insurance, and any of the other things which legal union brings upon straight people seems very elusive and complicated. It's a much bigger commitment than making sure that she has a set of house keys. I don't know where or when to start. Certainly, waiting until we move away from Delaware after college would make more sense, but I can't stop nightmare visions of someone saying that I am not a relative before closing a door in my face. It is worth noting that there is now a constitutional amendment being proposed which would effectively nullify all domestic partnerships and define marriage as a man and a woman. I'm told that it has little chance of passing because of both the difficulty of getting any constitutional amendment to make it through and due to lack of Capitol Hill backing, but it is particularly egregious in that it would nullify current and future domestic partnership laws around the country. The amendment actually reads about the same as the Defense of Marriage Act, the crucial difference being that the latter can (and hopefully will) eventually be rendered unconstitutional. The authors of said amendment say that they are proposing it to promote marriage and cut down on single parent homes, particularly those without fathers. One can only wonder what that has to do with me being able to walk into a hospital and see my girlfriend, or who we are hurting as she helps me pull on clothing when I can't manage with a cast. Self-righteous indignation and zealotry seem to live outside the everyday, and that takes drugs far more powerful than anesthesia. Kristen Minor is a member of the class of 2004 at Dartmouth College. She has a slight cold but feels that it will go away shortly. She can be reached at Kristen@youth-guard.org. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 11, No. 10, July 27, 2001. |