One if by land, two if by sea

Holy F*** they’re all around me

I can remember yonder back in the good ol’ days of the aughts, when eggs,  milk, and gas were much cheaper, when homosexuals were rightfully second class citizens and kept in their places, and when the US Supreme Court was just refining its taste for interfering with Presidential elections.

Actually, just before that...

One of several pleasant colleagues phoned to say he was sending me a Hematology referral request. Sure, I said, but I did not understand why he was calling me, instead of just sending the electronic request. My Scooby sense said something was up.

Scooby-doo, my man!

“What’s up, Paul?” I said.

“I didn’t want you to be blind-sided, but I need you to see her.”

“Paul, seriously now,” I said, “What’s up. You don’t usually call me for something like this. Her problem is easy for me to treat.”

“Well, she’s big in the Republican Party. She’s a delegate to the Republican Convention coming up, and she might mention that. I didn’t want you to be offended.”

“That’s OK, I’ll treat her anyway,” I said.

Lengthy pause. “Huh?”

“I said I’ll treat her anyway, like ‘instead of,’ and anyway, I won’t bring it up unless she does, at which point I can’t promise anything. It’s not a part of my usual Hematology consultation you know.”

Paul sounded a little nervous, but he knew I was true to my word and said he was relieved. “I really need you to see her.”

“Paul, I don’t need to see her. She needs to see me.”

Paul knew I was a consistent, vocal force on our Kaiser campus for reminding our superiors of Kaiser Northern California’s clear non-discrimination policy they never could seem to remember.  Boy Scouts (then) – nope, not welcome on our campus. Military (then) – nope, not welcome on our campus. United Airlines preferred airlines (then) – nope, not welcome. Etc., etc.

So, the big day comes, and she’s quite a polite, intelligent lady. We had a lovely consultation visit, and she was reassured she would be OK. I was just wrapping things up when she said, “I’m big in the Republican Party.” Ugh.  For some reason, I was still not expecting her to be so blunt, but I was definitely not blind-sided. Thanks Paul.

<takes figurative gloves off>

With a very straight face, “It’s OK, I’ll treat you anyway.”

Lengthy pause. (one of my specialties)

“What did you say?”

Still with my best straight face on, “I said it’s OK, I’ll treat you anyway.”

She stared at me, then broke out in laughter, and admitted it was a stupid thing to say. I agreed with her. Why not? I really do try to be agreeable. Yes, she had the Republican Convention coming up, and yes, we’d easily be able to coordinate her care around her trip, but it really did not matter where she was going or why she was going there. If she was trying to impress me, I was not impressed.

I get it, I mean, she assumed as do most that the stereotype held true that physicians are rich 1%ers, generally older, white, heterosexual, Republican males.

Well, that is the demographics of the American Medical Association, but that dinosaur is way past due for a big steaming tar pit. The AMA only represents about 15% of American physicians, so yeah, they do not speak for most of us though most people seem to think so and give them that undeserved respect – so just stop it

But I was younger, not a self-loathing closeted gay though I did not wear it on my sleeve, and I was the only white male in my post-doctoral fellowship in the 1990s. Thanks to early graying and balding, I just looked older. So if that’s your thing, good luck finding a white male Hematologist/Oncologist these days. White male medical students no longer seem to have any interest in such fields. Other than the military, I have always felt privileged that medicine tends to be one of the biggest melting pots throughout America, and nowadays, the majority of medical students are women!!

My receptionist at Kaiser was phenomenal. She came to me one day to tell me that yet another patient had requested to see a “different” Oncologist. Cindy had previously worked dealing blackjack in Reno and always knew where the cards were. And she could spot a racist at 100 paces. She knew what they meant is they wanted to change their care to me, since I was the …white one. I told her she had my permission to ask them, “Would you like to see the Chinese guy, the Pakistani guy, or the gay guy?”

Well, anyway, you know how that 2000 election turned out. And over the years, she and I became good friends. Turns out we both rode motorcycles. She was Jewish, and I was Jew-ish. Slowly, she began to question what she was hearing in her GOP bubble, and I remember one particular conversation we had over the lower price of gas in Houston, at her Republican Women’s Convention, versus here in Northern California, and why that was. Over the years, she confessed that knowing me, her eyes were opened.

As I had told Paul, I didn’t need to see her. She needed to see me.

You may have heard of the parable of the six blind men and the elephant, trying to figure out what was before them by the individual pieces of information they gathered. This parable has numerous applications in medicine as you might imagine, accumulating bits of information to determine a specific condition (ideally). In a sense, it’s a representation of the Principle of Parsimony, or Occam’s Razor.

In some less savory versions of the parable, they are each so convinced their conclusion is the true one that a fight breaks out.

The moral of the parable? We humans have a tendency to claim absolute truth from our limited experiences, whether subjective or objective, and tend to discount other people’s experiences, which are not even necessarily mutually exclusively true. Some people just have to be right. Reminds me of an ex....

As some may recall, there used to be this thing known as the Grand Old Party. Most people, inside and out, would agree that it has undergone quite a transformation in the past decade, though definitely the spawn of the Reagan days.

In their current varied cosplay, it can be difficult to identify their common beliefs, and I see a tendency to consider some of them more or less dangerous. In the end, they are moving together with a common goal, but I can’t help but think some of that confusion is intentional.

FASCISM: Far-right, authoritarian ultranationalism, led by dictatorial leader with a centralized autocracy fueled by militarism, forced suppression of opposition, and a natural social hierarchy.

No, one type of fascist is not better than the other, even if one is more or less obnoxious. If you find yourself thinking one faction might have your best interests in mind, don’t. Definitely no need to fight among ourselves about that, though many of us on the left have likely had differing experiences with their members. They are ultimately of one cloth, or they would not still voluntarily include themselves in that group. (I even found “Republicans Voting for Harris/Walz” yard signs to demonstrate a disturbing lack of self-awareness.) As the saying goes, ten pounds of lipstick on a pig is still a pig.

Also works nicely when texting: 10 lbs of 💄 on a 🐷 is still a 🐷

So remember, you and I don’t need to and should not see them individually. You and I already have already seen them for who and what they are collectively, regardless of what they call themselves, or what the media calls them.  Buried in their arrogant egocentricity, they have yet to see anyone else.

THEY NEED TO SEE ME.

THEY NEED TO SEE YOU.

I don’t plan to run or hide. I plan to be seen and remind them, frequently and if only by example, of the damage they are doing to their themselves, their family, their friends, and our country.

I encourage each of you to be seen, to set that example, to deflect the hurt they wish to inflict. Yes, some of it will hurt, or hurt others you know, but I will not give them the satisfaction of thinking my resolve has changed one whit.  

Altogether now, recite with me the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear:

Fear is the little-death that brings obliteration.

I will face my fear and I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing.

Only I will remain.