To the ER Nurse Who Asked About My Gender
To the nurse in the ER,
Thank you for asking in my time of need about something that did not have anything to do with why I was in the hospital.
Thank you for making me uncomfortable.
Thank you for showing your bigotry.
Thank you for ignoring what was actually wrong with me, just because I said, “I am not answering that.”
Thank you for not just using your eyes to see the on the scars across my chest — which would have answerd your questions.
Thank you for making me feel so uncomfortable I considered leaving.
Thank you for assuming you have the right to to ask me that.
Why didn’t you ask me a question – like whether or not I could be pregnant could you be pregnant? That would have answered all you needed to know – regardless of what is “in my pants.”
Thank you for being the kind of person I fear would put their own feelings above my care.
From now on, I will be going to the hospital with the longer wait time, because it means I will have the doctor and nurses treating me like what I am: a person, a man, and someone who matters enough to be treated with care.
I deserve to be treated when I have a simple case of pneumonia, and deserve to know that if something happens, like having a reaction to medication, it’s worth their time, and my gender isn’t worth their judgment.
A chronically ill trans man, but more than that — a human being.