Hi, faithful readers. Sorry I didn't blog earlier this week - I left town right after clinic on Tuesday for a brief mid-week out-of-town trip to see my grandmother: props to Nanny on her 95th birthday! Booya!
Anyway, Tuesday's clinic was pretty exciting, as far as these things go. First of all, two of our most awesome escorts (EO and AD) wore charming pink berets, in tribute to the always entertaining protester, Pink Hat. She seemed pretty peeved about it. It's always fun to find a way to poke fun at the protesters without disturbing or upsetting the patients. The only downside is having "Raspberry Beret" in my head for the rest of the day.
In between shifts, just as the last of my early shifters was leaving, I heard a loud voice as outside door was closing. I went outside to check it out; it was a dude on a motorcycle, who had pulled over to the side of the road to give the protesters a piece of his mind. He called them "terrorists", and told them they really ought to read the Supreme Court decision before they stood out there protesting (I have to say, I agree, although I don't know, maybe they have read it). He was quite angry and carried on for a while before zooming off.
Afterwards, one of the escorts mentioned that they thought he was probably the same guy who used to pull over in his silver SUV to yell at the protesters - he used some of the same language. I think it's pretty likely. His new nickname will be Old Yeller.
The protesters are, as I mentioned before, always quite riled in May, because of Mother's Day and the March for Life. On Tuesday morning they had one of their trucks in their parking lot blaring Jesus music - Amazing Grace and so on. Every week it's something new and hilarious with them.
I've talked before about the awkwardness of having someone I know come in for an abortion. Something that is quite possibly more awkward is when someone I know comes in with someone having an abortion. It's worse because I don't know beforehand like I would if they were a patient, so I'm unprepared. It happened this weekend - someone I know vaguely from high school - and I must have been more taken aback than I thought, because I knocked a whole bunch of stuff over when I was getting her friend's forms. Or maybe I'm just a clutz.
If you have bottles/recycleables, email firstname.lastname@example.org before tomorrow, and we'll come pick 'em up!