…waking up at fuck you o’clock on a Saturday morning.
…making sure I have money for a parking meter and/or a coffee before I can even leave the house
…driving (for any reason)
…leaning on my cane for two to four to five hours at a time, using up my precious spoons (some days I return and go straight to bed for hours)
…listen to some brain spurting bullshit from pro-lifers who seem to throw any shit at patients in the hope that it will stick, and behave in ways that a normal person would consider rude, invasive and shitty (but to them are perfectly justified), and NOT BE ABLE TO CHALLENGE THEM BACK.
I would love to not have to do any of this week after week after week. I would love for no escorts to have to bust their asses and risk their bodies and minds dealing with sometimes large hordes of protestors and fake-ass “counselors”. Hell, I would love to get into a big ol’ screaming match with these twits once in a while.
But I can’t. Because as long as they are out there, spreading lies and guilt like so much rancid garbage, as long as patients need a calm, smiling and respectful presence helping them inside the clinics, I and my fellow volunteer escorts will be there.
Oh, also, #FuckOperationRescue and similar organizations for making my job necessary.