Kendall
really? You going to donate?
Me
would that make you happy?
I pick at a thread on my comforter. The seconds tick by and my legs clench together. She’s typing something.
Kendall
Yes. That would makeme happy, actually.
I smile and click on the link and read a little about it. The more I talk to Kendall, the more her upbringing takes new shape in my mind. Something as simple as getting care for a medical condition becomes complicated when you don’t have gas money to get to the doctor, and when providers don’t listen because of how you look or talk. Life narrows down to survival, because living in poverty is an acute emergency. You can’t think about anything else, much less put as much time and energy into how you present yourself.
I know all of this, and I’ve learned a lot in med school, but it humbles me to think I still have so far to go. It’s also a different image when I have someone in front of me who’s had to work ten times as hard to get where I am.
Me
How much should I donate?
Kendall
hmmm
Kendall
Enough to make it hurt
I enter an amount that makes me wince a little. I send her a picture of the receipt.
Kendall
Damn!
Kendall
I’m actually impressed
Me
I’m chipping away at my debt, right?
Kendall
A little, much as I hate to admit that
Me
So you’re working tomorrow, right?
Kendall
Yes
Me
See you then.
