The Invisible Black Woman

Note: If you’re wondering about the title and what it means, just take the first letter of each word and put it together.

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I managed to get myself together to follow behind the gentleman wheeling hubby to the emergency room. Once we arrived, I thanked him profusely.

“You are so welcome. You take care, okay? I hope everything works out.”

I don’t honestly even remember what I mumbled in return. I wheeled hubby out of the main path of traffic and headed to the triage area.

“How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, thank you. It’s my husband. He was discharged today from this hospital. He had a procedure and is on blood thinners. He’s bleeding from his incision and it won’t stop bleeding.”

“Name, date of birth?”

I gave her his details.

“Okay, you can have a seat. The nurse will call you.”

Exsqueeze me!? My statement should have set off several flags for her. If she heard nothing else, the two critical pieces should have been “won’t stop bleeding” and “blood thinners.”

I stood there blinking for a minute. Reluctantly, I went to sit next to him.

“They said they’ll call you.”

Ten minutes passed and nothing. I couldn’t just sit there. What made it worse, security, the triage nurse, and the folks at registration thought they should convene by the front desk to chop it up and kiki. Now, I’m not opposed to this, but you gotta read the room. All’s I’m saying is, time and a place for everything.

Their lack of urgency was making me even more agitated. So I went back up there. By then, the triage nurse had ducked in the back. So I went to talk to the lady in reception.

“Can I help you?” The look on her face told me I wasn’t misreading her tone.

“Yeah. My husband. He’s still bleeding and he’s on blood thinners. Cam someone look at him… please?”

I spoke softly but forcefully. I knew better than to match her energy. #iykyk

She looked around to the nurse’s desk and saw she wasn’t there.

“Where’s Becca?”

The security guard just had a blank face. By then there were several others standing behind me wanting to check in or get their questions answered.

So the security guard pops his head in the back—in a way that made me strongly suspect this was a common occurrence for Becca—and says loudly: “Yo, they looking for you. You got people waiting out front.”

Becca pops back in and sits at the triage desk. Finally, we get called.

“What brings you in today?”

“He was just discharged today. He had a procedure done on Monday. He’s bleeding from his incision and he’s on blood thinners.”

“Okay, let me take your vitals.”

His blood pressure was lower than normal, but not dangerously low that he was unsteady. Still, there was the matter of the steady stream of blood from his incision.

“Okay, you can have a seat in the waiting area. They’ll call you to the back when they have a spot ready.”

I wasn’t having it.

“I’m sorry, but he’s actively bleeding and on blood thinners. Shouldn’t he be going to the back now?”

“I put him at the top of the list.”

The look on her face told me she told everyone they were “at the top of the list.”

You know how in that split second you go through every possible scenario in your mind and you know that losing your absolute shit won’t get you any closer to the outcome you’re wanting? That’s what I did in that split second. I took a deep breath and wheeled him back to the waiting room.

I plopped myself next to him and was trying to figure out what to do. They didn’t seem to be anywhere close to getting him to the back and I was now beyond nervous. God, what do I do? The first thought that popped in my head seemed crazy. We went back to the hospital that admitted him since they had all his records. The other hospital, our usual one, was less than 30 minutes away. Maybe that’s where we should go?

The universe agreed. I swear it wasn’t but two minutes after I had that thought, I saw someone walking towards us. I didn’t recognize him at first. It was the young man from the valet. I had completely forgotten about it, to be honest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Just with everything—”

He leaned over and put the keys in my hand and said, “I left it out front. You take as long as you need. No one is going to bother it.”

“Thank you. Thank you so very much, for everything.”

“Don’t sweat it. Y’all have a good night, okay?”

After he walked away, hubby and I looked at each other. We were both scared and I refused to not listen to my gut anymore.

He leaned over to me and started to say quietly, “Do we—”?

“Yes. Yes, I think we have to. If we get a ticket so be it, but Imma end up in jail in a few if we sit here any longer and then what?”

“So you wanna roll?”

I figured the fact that the car wasn’t over yonder, that it was right in front of the hospital entrance, unbothered, meant the universe was giving us permission to go get better care and not leave anything to chance.

“Yes, let’s get out out of here.”

“You wanna sign me out or…?”

“Nah, bump them. Let them figure it out. At this rate, they won’t even know we’re gone until morning.”

And with that, I tossed my bag on the arm of the wheelchair and we took off to our car. It was a Hail Mary and a very risky gamble, but I wasn’t gonna leave anything to chance—not when it came to his health.

So we rolled.