reflection 55.1

Hephaestus will control the chilling fire, but not indefinitely.

In his essay, Nature, Ralph Waldo Emerson urges all men and women to find understanding and emblematic values within every situation and environment. Many lessons are forged through extraordinary experiences and often suffering; toil and oddity are prerequisites of growth.

Maybe there was a lack of any explicit purpose behind that one evening at Good Samaritan. However, recalling this event leaves me with not even a semblance of pain, but rather feeling only disgusted and mildly amused.

More significantly, it causes me to wonder how many people go through their lives or survive frequent days when they feel subhuman. Men live in rotting cardboard boxes, women sleep in dirt and become victims to sexual assault, and children sift through mounds of garbage in order to find a meal. There is no dignity in that.

Every single thing that happens in one’s life is left up to interpretation based on one’s own perception. I know I am very much a human being, and I believe that nearly every person in the world perceives himself or herself as a human. However, the unfortunate truth remains that not everyone will view every other person as an individual worthy of the same respect and dignity.

Awareness precedes action. I am thankful for my disorder and I am grateful for every day where I have felt less than human, for it has given me perspective into the constant reality of billions of people on this planet. Society needs not only to become more accepting, but also more knowledgeable of the issues and hardships affecting people from all walks of life. No one deserves to feel like a subhuman creature, for no one is.

The telephone, with its high-pitched, alarming ring, sounded through the office, drawing me back from the almost gravitational pull of the lockers. Phil quickly took down the errand request on a pad of yellowed paper and I heard the click of the phone.

“Discharge for 517,” he shouted from the counter.

“I got it,” I said.

My feet flattened themselves out on the floor and my back straightened. I ineptly maneuvered a wheelchair out through the door and into the hallway, which was growing dark with the onset of dusk. I stole quick glances at some of the many signs that littered the upper walls as I walked towards the lobby. Neonatal ICU. Radiology. Urgent Care. This reflection. 74