I literally picked those pears from some new friends’ yard on Monday! A patient asked for gluten free snacks so I dipped into my personal stash.

I am spending the week in Charlotte, filling in as clinician at the Planned Parenthood clinic. I am grateful I have the time and ability to be of service during this really difficult time after the reversal of Roe vs. Wade. I hadn’t been able to actually care for patients since leaving for South Sudan, so I was worried I would struggle jumping back into it. I was empowered and energized from the collective uprising we have seen across the United States, with liberals fighting to keep women’s right to choose for their bodies. This week I have felt the anxiety of my patients. Most of them are the silenced, the powerless, the hopeless and the overworked. I can see the desperation and fear in their eyes as they ask me to interpret how all these legal rulings will affect their day to day life. Everyone in this world is already traumatized by the continued COVID pandemic- frontline workers that were celebrated are now leaving those pivotal jobs, burnt out, terrorized by what they have witnessed with no end in sight. The mass exodus of our healthcare system continues as care is focused more on capitalism and less on compassion. I struggle everyday to be a part of a broken system, trying to dam up the catastrophic holes that others turn blindly away from. I cannot turn away. I see the pain, exhaustion and terror during each encounter. The political climate cannot stay out of my day. When people ask me to be a little less political or confrontational on social media, I tell them I cannot be kept silent. I speak for the trees, as the Lorax did. I speak for my patients, those that do not have the privilege that I have to speak out against injustice. I carry their stories in my heart and release them onto this page.

I think I am getting a little sermony or hallelujah here. Sorry. My work just feels so spiritual to me. There is HP in what I do (I think).

I am spending the week in Charlotte, filling in at Planned Parenthood. I am grateful I have the time and ability to be of service during this really difficult time after the reversal of Roe vs. Wade. I haven’t been able to actually care for patients since leaving for South Sudan, so I was worried I would struggle jumping back into it. I was empowered and energized from the collective uprising we have seen across the United States, with liberals fighting to keep women’s right to choose for their bodies. This week I have felt the anxiety of my patients. Most of them are the silenced, the powerless, the hopeless and the overworked. I can see the desperation and fear in their eyes as they ask me to interpret how all these legal rulings will affect their day to day life. Everyone in this world is already traumatized by the continued COVID pandemic- frontline workers that were celebrated are now leaving those pivotal jobs, burnt out, terrorized by what they have witnessed with no end in sight. The mass exodus of our healthcare system continues as care is focused more on capitalism and less on compassion. I struggle everyday to be a part of a broken system, trying to dam up the catastrophic holes that others turn blindly away from. I cannot turn away. I see the pain, exhaustion and terror during each encounter. The political climate cannot stay out of my day. When people ask me to be a little less political or confrontational on social media, I tell them I cannot be kept silent. I speak for the trees, as the Lorax did. I speak for my patients, those that do not have the privilege I have to speak out against injustice. I carry their stories in my heart and release them onto this page.

This morning, we arrived early, knowing we would have patients from Texas, Tennasee, South Carolina and Georgia. I laid out snacks I acquired before leaving Durham on Monday, reallocated with love. I placed the pears I picked from a tree in a new friend's front yard, into the bowl filled with chocolate, crackers and chips. I hope this sustenance will sustain our patients through their time in our clinic but also back to their lives, through the judgment of protesters that do not know their stories. I am so proud to have a small place in the resistance and ability to work beside some really powerful coworkers, also trying to keep doors open and patients with access to their human rights. I felt so much sorrow when I came home from Africa early. It was shame and the horrible committee in my head that said I wasn’t good enough. Despite these early feelings, I have now come to such gratitude that I can be present for the people in my life, for my patients and for myself. My step-father’s health is declining, as is my grandmother’s. The distance that Africa brought tore my heart apart. I will get to return soon, though. Nik and I will be traveling to Nairobi for our respective birthdays at the end of this month. We had planned to meet there at my half-way point, but instead will be traveling together. Hopefully, refilling our souls so we can return to keep fighting the good fight. With all the sadness and despair in the world around me, I am still filled with so much gratitude, love and hope. May we all continue to carry these together….

Viva la Resistance!

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