On TV a woman
having a physical
blurts “INEEDANHIVTEST!”
in the middle of hearing about
her blood pressure, and then
twists her lips into a half smile
and sighs as if she wants to say
something about how much better
she feels now.
She’s apparently not afraid
as much as she is embarrassed
and a little worried,
and I think we’re supposed
to laugh at the look on her face
and the tone of her voice.
I think
this is supposed to be
progress, and perhaps
it is,
if what this means is that
someone is going feel better
blurting out
how they want to live
a long time, or how
it’s better to know the truth
than to wonder
like so many others did.
Still,
I can’t laugh
because it’s taken so long
to get here, to get to a point
where someone bothers to think
that maybe a pretty blonde woman
in a late night ad
might make someone else want to ask,
to blurt something out
so few once thought
someone like her
would ever need to ask.
Thinking about all those people
who never asked, who asked
too late, who kept out of the doctor’s office
because of the overwhelming fear
of what they might hear, or who never
believed they could need to hear
answers
to that
unimagined question,
I can’t laugh
even though the woman on TV
seemed ready to laugh
two seconds after the camera was turned off,
who might have gone home and
because it felt OK to say it then
might have gone
to the doctor
the very next day.
And I can’t laugh even though
someone else might have done
the very same thing the very next day
because a funny commercial
made asking the question
easier.
I suppose it is progress that
I get to think this way
about something so simple
as asking, learning the truth,
smiling to oneself just for asking
for the truth;
I guess it’s progress that
someone like me,
who has never felt that need to ask,
who maybe should have asked
at some point
instead of counting on luck and statistics,
can sit here smugly and quibble
over whether
it’s appropriate
to laugh at such things
when all that matters is ensuring
that the question is asked and answered.
