Check Your Privilege
Topic: Check Your Privilege: The Healthcare Discrepancy White People Know Nothing About
This week, we will be discussing the disparity in healthcare
access and outcomes between black and white people, in particular the systemic
and institutional discrimination against black women in the medical field.
Apart from a few hiccups, like most white women in America,
I have usually been well-cared-for medically. I wanted an IUD, and I got one.
When I had a kidney infection, they practically threw Vicodin at me (Which did nothing
for the pain. It just made me sleepy.) The various discomforts and occasional
pains I have suffered in my life have been dealt with promptly and with
compassion. I also witnessed the way other white people were treated: When my
ex-husband fell off a ladder while working, they gave him so many narcotics
that he became addicted and ended up losing his job and kind of ruining his own
life. Overall, my experience with medical professionals has been mostly
positive, and I usually trust them. I certainly never felt like I needed a
witness when I went to the doctor.
In contrast, we find the experiences of my platonic lesbian
domestic partner (whom I often refer to as my wife), Courtney, a black woman my
own age. Just since I met her, she has gone to urgent care with a broken bone
and been sent home with no pain relief of any kind, no cast, just a sling and a
recommendation to take ibuprofen. She has been told to “ice it” or even to “get
in touch with your emotions to address where the pain is coming from.” She was
in a car accident over eleven years ago that injured her entire spine and did
not get any kind of prescription pain relief for over ten years. Think about
that for a second: she went a full decade with a damaged spine and received no conventional
medical treatment. Understandably, she turned to a combination of massage and
street drugs to alleviate the pain she was suffering. Nobody even bothered to
take an image of her back, to see where the damange was and how to treat it.
When she found out that all of her teeth are dead due to a genetic disorder and
was told by her oral surgeon to consult with her primary clinic for pain
relief, she was turned away for being “drug-seeking.” She once went to urgent
care because of some uterine pain, and the attending physician subjected her to
a painful examination before basically telling her that he could do something
about the situation, but he was not going to. She has actually asked some of
her white friends, including me, to accompany her to the offices of medical
professionals so that somebody can be her advocate and ally.
Her experience is not unique; Courtney’s mother has similar
stories. This is all down to systemic racism in the medical field. Disparities
of access and outcome for women of color have been heavily researched and
documented, and have been demonstrated over and over again, across years of
changes and even in the face of slight superficial improvements. Doctors and
nurses appear to make the false assumption that black women do not feel pain
the way white people do, or that they are exaggerating the pain in order to
obtain narcotics. They also seem to believe that all black people are jumkies
or otherwise prone to drug-seeking behavior. (Most of the junkies I personally
have met are white people.) A 2016 survey of white medical students and
residents found that half of them expressed false beliefs about physiological
differences between races, including beliefs that black skin is thicker than
white skin and that black people have a higher pain tolerance than white
people. Black American women are the most under-served demographic medically.
They receive the lowest standard of care, up to the point of being completely
medically neglected. They are almost never given pain relief, and are often
mis-diagnosed or otherwise medically mistreated. Black women have shorter life
expectancies and a higher rate of death related to childbirth. It is clear that
the system is failing them, in multiple ways.
There is one thing white people can do: Use your privilege
to influence the medical professionals who treat your black friends. Go to
appointments with them. Write letters to clinics and office managers. Call out
racism when you see it. Be willing to have those hard conversations with
friends and strangers alike to address racist behaviors or ideas. It may be
briefly socially awkward to point out racist words or actions, and there may
even be social consequences, but it is worth it to know that you are at least
trying to help. Use your white privilege to assault the system that confers it
upon you, because nobody should have their pain dismissed by a nurse or a
doctor. Access to health care has been established by the United Nations as a
human right, and there is no excuse to be racist in this day and age. It just
makes you sound like an asshole.
Would you go to an appointment with a black friend and call
out the doctor on their racism?
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