As Iâm bidding farewell to my second to last patient, I hear two female voices yelling at each other in the waiting room.
Turns out, itâs my last patient, screaming racial slurs at another patient.Â
The nurse calls security, who help my attending and I pry the two women apart.
I get my patient into the clinic room. âMaâam, that kind of behavior is not appropriate here. You will be respectful and behave yourself.â
My patient squints at me. âI donât understand your English, are you from here?â
Mind you, I was born in the US, raised in the US, I get teased for using SAT words and enunciating like Iâm performing theatre. You know why she asked me this question? Because I âdonât look like an Americanâ. Her words, not mine.
Okay. We gonna do this racist shit?
I can play this game. Letâs go.
So as she begins to ramble, IÂ begin to squint.Â
And every one or two sentences, I interrupt her and say âcan you say thatâŚmore slowly?â or âwait wait one more time. Enunciate, if you wouldnât mind.â âOh Iâm so sorry I didnât understand that.â Sheâs just here for her med refills. I already filled them out before she came in. I draw out this torture for the entire twenty minutes. By the end of the visit, Iâm smiling serenely and her face is the color of a tomato.
My medical assistant sits outside my clinic door and hears this all go down. When Iâm done with the patient, he picks up where I left off.
âMaâam, Iâm going to need you to speak clearly, Iâm having a hard time understanding your English,â he says, as he provides her discharge paperwork and final instructions. Iâm choking down my laughter in my clinic room.Â
Donât fucking push your racist shit onto my patients, my staff, or me.Â