ER

I have been in the ER this last two weeks at County UCLA

I keep hearing the lines
from suheir hammad's poem on the louisiana floods in my head:

"who says this is not the america they know?
what america do they know?"

and Barbara Bush's

"And so many of the people in the arena here, you
know, were underprivileged anyway, so this--this is working very well for them."

The poorest of the poor in LA come in to our hospital.
Only those without insurance. The working poor, the
undocumented, the homeless. They are almost without
exception black or latino. And it is not working out exceptionally well for them.

Just yesterday two folks with gun shot wounds to the
chest came in. A 19 year old girl. she died. A
black man, 34 years old. he died. before we
pronounced him dead i cut into his chest to put a tube
in and massive amounts of blood came pouring out. the
bullet had filled his lungs with blood. and his eyes
were so lifeless. I keep thinking that the bullets
just finished them off. there is a destitute
hopelessness that brought him to the point that
bullets were just the final blow.

my friend was telling me that violence is a chronic illness. if you get shot at 18 or 19 and survive there is a ridiculously high chance you will be dead by 35. and she takes the time to tell them that bluntly.

and it is this America I am getting to know well.


sri

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