Skippy Doesn't Get an Abortion
Monday, March 06, 2006
Lately, I've been hearing a lot about this new legislation in South Dakota which will make almost all abortions illegal. In fact, this legislation is due to be signed into law the day that this article prints.
Knowing that there's already a serious stigma against abortion, I wondered how easily one could obtain one in my own neighborhood. I made five appointments with five different doctors last Friday, all within a thirty minute drive of my home. I did not tell the doctors why I was visiting their office.
The first office I visited belonged to an older doctor who'd been practicing in this area for quite some time. I came into his office under an assumed name with supporting documentation and insurance information provided to me by my friend Frank. In many ways, my visit was like any other. Until, I mentioned an abortion.
I was seated on the table in an examination room. A nurse came in and took my blood pressure, and she asked me why the doctor was seeing me. This is when I let the bomb drop. "I'm here to discuss getting an abortion," I said, looking at her straight in the eye.
I could tell by the look on her face that I had breached a sore subject. She looked quite shocked. But, she quickly regained her composure and asked me who the abortion was for. "Myself," I replied. "And also," I added, "I am feeling a little sick to my stomach this morning." You can only let pastrami on rye go so long without refrigeration, especially as a breakfast item.
My nurse backed slowly out of the room, and I was left sitting alone for several minutes, during which I could hear a strained conversation going on in the hallway. But there were two words I could hear quite clearly through the din, abortion and police.
Having been in similar situations before, I knew what to do. I quickly locked the examination room door, knowing that this would delay the staff for a few moments while they decided which plan was the proper one. Then I began working on the window.
Because this was an older office, the wood in the windows had swollen, and they were very difficult to open. However, I was finally able to get the window open and extricate myself. As I was getting in my car, I saw a police cruiser pull up, and two uniformed officers ran inside.
This just goes to show that you never know what kind world you live in until you come face-to-face with it. I never would've imagined that I lived in the kind of area where simply asking for a medical procedure could put you in jail.
James Skippenofsky, Skippy Does it All