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For 17 months following the death of my parents, I blogged. This blog is threaded with vulnerability, faith, fear and peace. This blog isn't "pretty" or politically correct; It isn't exciting or amusing. It is raw. It is the journey of me, as a Christian, giving myself the grace to grieve; the grace to be human in the midst of the greatest trauma of my life. Though I wish this pain on no one, I hope that through my words you may find words of your own; that through my voice you may find a voice to your own hurt that leads you closer to Christ.

Medical Mistrust

2/13/2017

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Mom had years of medical mistrust that stemmed from her uncle falling dead in a doctor’s office. That incident, mixed with her own experiences that she deemed “unfair” made her incredibly critical of any medical facility.
 
After being admitted into the hospital on August 16th, the fatal diagnosis came in and I was left trying to be strong. I tried not to cry as the doctor looked me in the eyes and said “This is serious! Do you understand how sick your mother is?” I tried to stay strong as the next doctor came in and said “I’d give her 6 months to live.” Wait, she can’t die or be that close to death, it’s my Mommy; it’s MY Mommy.
 
As warm tears streamed down my face Mommy looked at me and said “Kiya, don’t you worry about those doctors. Only God knows when I am going to go. Everything is going to be ok.” “But Mommy,” I cried, “You can’t die; I can’t make it without you.” “Yes you can, “she replied, “You are stronger than you think. This will make you a better pastor.”
 
Tears continued to fall as I excused myself from the room. Mom hated seeing me cry and I knew that listening to pessimistic reports would not ease my fear. I stood outside of the room for about 5 minutes after which I returned with a dry face, a smile to hide my fear and a bit of disbelief. In my book, Mommy knew everything so if she said “only God knew” her timing, surely the doctors were wrong.
 
As doctors filtered in and out to observe her symptoms the re-occurring question was, “Why did you not come sooner?” Though Mom found some reasoning to address the doctor’s inquiries, I knew deep in my heart that the reality was “Medical Mistrust.”

​Medical mistrust is threaded throughout the African American community, which is one of the very reasons I’ve chosen to write this blog. It is my hope that my reality encourages a mother somewhere to get a mammogram; that my reality encourages a woman to control her high blood pressure or live a more active lifestyle to avoid heart failure. My reality doesn’t have to be your reality, which is why I will continue giving a voice to health issues impacting our community.

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  • Home
  • The 21-Day Journey
  • Resources
    • [COURSE] How To Publish A Book In 60 Days
    • [BOOK] The Grace to Grieve (Book)
    • [BLOG] The First Year of Grief
    • [INTERVIEWS] Candid Conversations
  • BOOK KIYA