Page 89 of A Mean Season
I didn’t get the feeling he was actually in charge of her—given the rolling of the eyes and the snark in her voice. But I imagine certain things take precedent. Once we were in the room, John said, “I’m sorry, I should have said this before. I’ve been trained to take care of victims of sexual assault. If you’d rather have a woman take care of you, I can make that happen. Or if you’d like a woman present while I conduct the examination, I can ask Shar—”
“Are you gay?”
“Very.”
“It’s fine.”
“Are you comfortable taking a seat?”
“Yes, I’m okay.”
We sat down. John behind a small desk, Candy and I on spindly plastic and metal chairs. He took a clipboard and pen out of a desk drawer.
“Candy, this is what will be happening. I’m going to take a history, which will include basic information about you and your health. When Shar comes back with a kit and a gown, you’ll take off your clothes and stand on a large piece of paper. I’ll examine you for—”
“No.”
“You’re not comfortable with that?”
“I’ve showered. I’ve changed my clothes. I don’t see the point.”
“Well, you may not have washed away all the evidence. And… you’re bleeding. Conceivably, your attacker’s semen could be mixed with your blood. I need to collect a sample.”
Candy blushed.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’ve had a terrible experience. There’s no shame in that.”
“What will I wear home?”
“I think I have a raincoat in my car,” John said.
“I’ll look like a flasher.”
John smiled and then continued his spiel. As soon as there’s a bed available, we’ll go into the ER for a more detailed pelvic examination. I’ll take photographs of any bruises or contusions. Since the attack happened a few hours ago, you should plan on taking more photos in a day or two. Once we’re in the ER, I’ll probably take a moment and call the police. Before you go, I’ll do a blood test and give you a prescription for antibiotics. If you’d like I can give you a prescription for AZT. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to test for HIV tonight. It takes HIV antibodies four to six weeks to show up in your system.”
There was silence. I doubt it had occurred to Candy she might have been infected with HIV. This was a whole new kind of violence being done to her.
“She’ll take the AZT prescription,” I said for her.
John nodded and then asked, “Are you ready to start, Candy?”
“Yes, yes I am,” she said, more firmly than I expected.
25
April 19, 1996
Friday early morning
It took almost half an hour to get a bed in the ER. Meanwhile, we created quite the bottleneck. New patients arrived but were not triaged. When Shar returned with the gown and kit, she mentioned that someone, I didn’t catch the name, was upset and unlikely to forget this.
“She’ll be fine,” John said calmly. I suspected he was right, since not giving a rape victim immediate attention would be a PR nightmare. Particularly someone as prominent as Candy. I mean, her face was on bus benches.
John had just finished the pelvic exam when Ronnie burst into the curtained space.
“Oh my God,” I said. “How did you get in here?”
“You can get in anywhere if you look like you know where you’re going.”