Description: Dust of Africa
I went to Planned Parenthood for the first time when I was 22 years old. I was a good Mennonite girl who wore a head covering to church, and when I made the appointment, I was afraid to type the location into my Google calendar in case anyone happened to see it.
I was a virgin. I was getting married in a few months and I needed birth control. I was still on my parent’s insurance, which wouldn’t cover the kind of birth control I thought was right for me, and it was hinted to me in hushed tones and whispers that Planned Parenthood may be the best place to go. Read More →
This morning, I work my first shift in the ED (Emergency Department) as an upper-level resident with a new set of interns. I’ve met some of the incoming cohort, and they seem bright, happy, and eager to learn. I remember myself from this time a year ago, gearing up to start internship, and I wonder if anyone else is feeling the way I did then: secretly terrified and filled with dread.