"dear doctors"
a poem
tobie
dear doctors,
when you told my parents that their child had
“a condition not compatible with life,”
they plotted their lives out around my death.
but i survived.
dear doctors,
you said you couldn’t predict the future
and then you said i might live
“as a grocery checker”
permanently defective, my parents heard
but i am here and graduating high school soon
dear doctors,
you pathologized my lack of speech,
telling my parents i might be mute
for the rest of my life
but this is a slam poem
what does that say?
dear doctors,
you said
“your child may have severe physical delays,”
even though the frontal lobes don’t deal with movement
but i love to dance
and my parents smile at my half-talent
dear doctors,
you asked to prescribe an anti-psychotic
when i was eight,
conflating some normal-kid behavior with
mental and emotional delays
but i love my anti-depressant and ssri now
and their side effects are much less severe.
dear doctors,
you made my parents fear that my brother would turn out the same as me,
but he’s got the family anxiety and shyness,
not my neurological issues,
and that’s okay.
dear doctors,
my diagnoses have ruled my life for years,
but i no longer can hide my scars.
dear doctors,
you told my parents their daughter would likely die
but their son, their child, i
survived.
and i am here.
dear doctors,
coming out to you,
over and over again,
it wears on me,
but i do it,
i tell you that i am trans,
because i must
to know that you are trustworthy.
dear doctors,
i have faith in you,
not the same faith that i place in god above,
but faith that the evidence is there,
and that i cannot deny it.
dear doctors,
i am sick of explaining my entire history,
the surgeon,
the neurologist,
the pediatrician,
the speech therapist,
the psychologist,
the psychiatrist,
the other psychologist,
the other neurologist,
the other psychologist,
the other psychiatrist,
the other psychologist,
the other neurologist,
the endocrinologist,
to you,
but i will,
because i know i am stronger than it,
i know i am more than the clot,
i know i am good enough.
a poem
tobie
dear doctors,
when you told my parents that their child had
“a condition not compatible with life,”
they plotted their lives out around my death.
but i survived.
dear doctors,
you said you couldn’t predict the future
and then you said i might live
“as a grocery checker”
permanently defective, my parents heard
but i am here and graduating high school soon
dear doctors,
you pathologized my lack of speech,
telling my parents i might be mute
for the rest of my life
but this is a slam poem
what does that say?
dear doctors,
you said
“your child may have severe physical delays,”
even though the frontal lobes don’t deal with movement
but i love to dance
and my parents smile at my half-talent
dear doctors,
you asked to prescribe an anti-psychotic
when i was eight,
conflating some normal-kid behavior with
mental and emotional delays
but i love my anti-depressant and ssri now
and their side effects are much less severe.
dear doctors,
you made my parents fear that my brother would turn out the same as me,
but he’s got the family anxiety and shyness,
not my neurological issues,
and that’s okay.
dear doctors,
my diagnoses have ruled my life for years,
but i no longer can hide my scars.
dear doctors,
you told my parents their daughter would likely die
but their son, their child, i
survived.
and i am here.
dear doctors,
coming out to you,
over and over again,
it wears on me,
but i do it,
i tell you that i am trans,
because i must
to know that you are trustworthy.
dear doctors,
i have faith in you,
not the same faith that i place in god above,
but faith that the evidence is there,
and that i cannot deny it.
dear doctors,
i am sick of explaining my entire history,
the surgeon,
the neurologist,
the pediatrician,
the speech therapist,
the psychologist,
the psychiatrist,
the other psychologist,
the other neurologist,
the other psychologist,
the other psychiatrist,
the other psychologist,
the other neurologist,
the endocrinologist,
to you,
but i will,
because i know i am stronger than it,
i know i am more than the clot,
i know i am good enough.