Humanity

Every day, there are so many topics from which to choose for me to write about. Today, for example: the unnecessary death of Amber Nicole Thurman, the Haitian population of Springfield, OH (overstated by triple, at least), the Senate IVF trap (talking to YOU Rick Scott and Ted Cruz), the Chinese adoption shutdown, exploding pagers, yada yada yada… but not today.

Today is far more personal.

You’ve doubtless seen the video clips of people ringing the bell when they finish chemo, the kids welcomed back to school when they “beat cancer”, but the story never ends there. “Remission” means at least 5 years of follow-up.

For me, it means, amoung other things, a trip to the oncologist at the infusion center once every 12 weeks for bloodwork, an exam, and a port flush. So there I was yesterday, at the old familiar place, with the doctor, nurses and staff who saved my life. I’m always happy to see them, they are such wonderful, spectacular people.

I have port problems, and I’ll spare you, except to say that when they can’t clear the port, I need heparin, and then I have to walk around and swing my arms, and maybe that will work. Sometimes I play “Go you Chicken Fat, GO!” by Robert Preston on my phone, which NO ONE at the center is old enough to know, so I have to explain about hearing it in school every day as part of JFK’s Council on Physical Fitness program. I water the plants. I pick up the snack basket and take it around to all the patients getting infusions.

So, I’m handing out snacks yesterday, and as I get to this one woman, the nurses start yelling, “Don’t be concerned, <name of patient>, that’s just Jessica. You don’t have to carry the basket around. She’s not like other people.”

Some of you who read this blog know me personally and have seen me in action. For you, the idea that I’d pick up a snack basket, talk to strangers, hell, register voters virtually anywhere, is something you just laugh about because it’s “so Jessica.” For those of you who only know me through my writing, well, I’ll talk to anyone. I live by the credo that sometimes me smiling at a stranger might be the only nice thing that happens to them that day, so I smile and compliment strangers just in case they need cheering up.

I looked at this woman, and she appeared terrified. I asked her if she was new, and she said today was her first time. I put down the snack basket and we talked. I told her things that only we cancer patients know about, I answered her questions, I assured her that it would be okay. She was wholly focused on what the next day would bring, and I explained as gently as possible that there would be good days and bad days, and all she had to do was put one foot in front of the other and follow her treatment plan. We talked more, and she finally accepted a snack.

It wasn’t until later, while driving home, that I thought about humanity. I had not asked the woman if she was registered to vote, I brought up nothing political. She was just another human being who was in the chair for the first time (and yes, I covered how the heat and massage functions worked, and helped adjust the recline function for her). I remember my first day. It’s a memory that cannot be shaken.

My visit with my oncologist presented some challenges for me, and we’ll see how that goes. A lot of unknowns. So I flipped back and forth while driving home between upcoming new tests and possibilities, and the thought that in being so engrossed in the upcoming election, I, and many people, have forgotten our own humanity.

When I write, I often type “Rethuglican” in lieu of “Republican”. I am snarky. I carry a visceral hatred for them. But here was this woman. For all I know, she’s a local Republican candidate, or a party official, or a dedicated MAGA person. But that never crossed my mind because all I saw, ALL I SAW, was a mortified human being facing a horrible situation.

And perhaps what we all need is a little more humanity towards others. Imagine if the Rethuglican racist slime showed more humanity to people who aren’t lily white. I think you know that the reason they work so hard to suppress black and brown votes is because they do not consider non-whites to be human, and therefore not deserving of the right to vote. The Rethuglican misogynistic slime honestly view women and girls as chattel only worthy of bearing more children: optimally (in their view) for white boys to grow up into the ruling class, white girls to grow up to be breeding machines, and everyone else to grow up to be slaves. It’s how they think. I could go on.

I worry that I have forgotten MY humanity. For example, I don’t want the Convicted Felon to be killed by an assassin. Sure, sure, violence is never the answer, but more honestly, it would be too quick, not painful enough, and what I really want is for him to die in prison, suffering.

I worry about the unleashing of horrors when the Convicted Felon loses both the popular vote and the Electoral College. I’ve read the plans for disruption of vote counting, vote certification at the state level, and what the Rethuglicans might do in January if they still control the House (if, indeed, they can elect a Speaker.) What will WE, the side of truth and light do in response? We will be humane, or will our utter disgust for them win out? If we win it all, will we extract a price from them?

Is there an obligation on us to lead by example? I believe in my heart that we are honestly better people than they are. And yet, I think we show that by our adherence to the rule of law, our commitment to the US Constitution, and the fact that we never turn to violence. Is that enough?

I lack answers today. All I’m sure about is that I did right by a fellow human being yesterday. I hope it was enough.