First, let me preface this by saying that I have a perfectly nice general practitioner at a very nice medical facility. And when I had perfectly nice insurance provided by my job, I didn’t have any specific complaints about said practitioner at said facility.
Yet I still feel like I’ve hopped the fence to the greener grass, and this is why my enthusiasm for Planned Parenthood runs so deep and wide—maybe I didn’t have complaints, or maybe I just didn’t know I had complaints.
Here are some things that I noticed while at Planned Parenthood this afternoon for an exam:
Across the board, from everyone I met with during my hour or so there, both my questions and my prior knowledge were taken very seriously. I never felt rushed; I never felt silly.
The two ladies working the front desk were overtly kind, respectful and gentle with every single person who walked in the door. I eventually picked up a magazine because I felt gawky eyeing every patient as she arrived, but it was really fascinating—teenagers asking for emergency contraception, uninsured women of all ages, races and social statuses picking up their free monthly pack of pills, people just stopping in to grab some condoms or ask a question. And I am positive that the ladies behind the desk hear hundreds of the same questions every day. I’m also sure they hear hundreds of variations on the proverbial “stupid question” every day. I imagine they regularly deal with people who no other facility would let in the front door. They were, without fail, not just polite but genuinely friendly, helpful and patient with every woman they saw.
The nurse practitioner who performed my exam was warm, charismatic and genuine as everyone else. She looked me in the eyes when we talked. I was asked (as a routine question!) if my partner ever acts violent toward me in any way. She asked about how much calcium my multivitamin provides, gave me an easy way to calculate if I need to take another supplement, and also gave me the calcium content of some common foods (milk, yogurt). She noticed a cut on my leg and offered both sympathy and tips to help it heal. During my exam, she told me every move she would make and where she would make it before she did so. There was a mirror so I could see what she was seeing. She walked with me to the check-out desk, wrote me a script for Plan B just to keep at home, and found some brand literature in her office to give me before I left.
As an uninsured woman who makes around $150 a week, my bill for the exam, advice, tests and emergency contraception—the most quality sexual health care I’ve ever received—was exactly zero dollars.
I think about the other women in the waiting room with me, the ones I couldn’t stop studying as they walked in. I think about how valuable straight talk from a health care provider is when it comes to sex, to the parts and acts and worries that girls are conditioned to be embarrassed of—how empowering that dialogue is for someone growing up in this world, flawed as it is. Where have these girls come from? What have they learned before walking in that door? And I think about them hearing about Planned Parenthood, going to Planned Parenthood and getting the same experience, receiving the same compassion and education that I did, and to say that it “gives me hope” feels far too wimpy. It makes me feel, if just for a minute, that we will definitely leave behind a better world for the women after us.
Find a Planned Parenthood near you. Support them. They are essential.
