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I've been peeing blood for a week. WebMD tells me I have a urinary tract infection and suggests I seek treatment offline.

Living below the poverty line, working two jobs with no insurance and little pay, my only option is Boston's Planned Parenthood and its sliding scale payment plan.

I'd been there before for birth control pills and pelvic exams (I made the choice when I was taken off my parents' insurance that if I could take care of one thing, it would be my lady bits). The reality is Planned Parenthood is my only option for affordable medical treatment – my primary care provider, if you will.

As the Green Line approaches my destination, I see that there are protestors surrounding the entrance to the building. They bus them in every Saturday morning like it's a field trip for religious fanatics who like to yell at young, desperate women.

A woman wearing a purple T-shirt printed with the word “escort” walks toward me and tells me that she will be my escort. She takes my arm, and together we make our way through the angry, sign-waving crowd.

We are almost at the door when a woman wearing a T-shirt with a picture of an aborted fetus on it grabs my arm and spins me toward her. “Jesus can help you,” she says. “If you just have faith.” I break free from her grasp and allow myself to be led into the building by my purple-shirted escort.

The following runs through my head as I pee into a cup and wait to be examined:

Of course this fetus-wearing woman believes I'm here for an abortion. That's completely obvious. But if she knew the truth of my condition, would she say, “Oh, I'm terribly sorry! I didn't realize. Of course you should go inside and get yourself some antibiotics straightaway”? Or would she have stuck with “Jesus can help you”? Would fetus lady need penicillin if she had an infection, or does she believe that God would smite the demon bacteria from her urinary tract? Does her blind faith make her quick to heal or less susceptible to illness or immune altogether?

By the time I leave with my soon-to-be-filled prescription for antibiotics, there is no need for an escort. The protestors have taken their signs and their judgments and gone home. And I have come to the decision that for the time being, I will put my faith in penicillin.

 


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    Katie Matus

    Born and raised in Connecticut, Katie Matus learned the value of a good sweater set and a string of pearls at an early age. She has carried this knowledge with her through her days as a painter, writer and hippie-dippy-liberal farm advocate…but it has yet to come in handy.

    Until she can realize her potential as a trophy wife, Katie has chosen to spend her time sitting outside and making up stories about the people who walk by, crocheting and drinking cocktails while listening to books on tape about substance abuse, painting on walls, internet dating and making babies laugh.

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