Being ‘Out’ In The Hospital

‘When I first learned of my partner’s disability I wept for days. She is an amputee, right arm and right leg. I couldn’t believe that there wasn’t some way to undo it. I grieved for the loss of her arm and leg, constantly waking up at night with the shocking realization that nothing would change her loss. They weren’t going to grow back. There wasn’t going to be any team of scientists to make her into the bionic woman. I feared what this meant for me, what would happen to us. I knew it wouldn’t make any difference in how much I loved her, but I knew it would change how we lived. Being “out” in the hospital while at the mercy of several fundamentalist nurses and staff members, is another story. We learned to do many things very well that we’d previously sworn we’d never do. We learned to talk in code. We kept our voices down. We kissed in empty elevators between floors. Our new closet was not a matter we really had to think about much. It was necessary for survival. “What if they find out and decide to stop bathing me?” my partner would laugh. But, we knew that was nothing to joke about. When depending on the staff for everything, exposure as a lesbian could not only be uncomfortable, but dangerous. What if the staff decides to stop bathing you? What if they decide they have to heal you from your torment, or exorcize the demons from your soul? What if a staff member decides that all you need is a good man? I thought, as a lesbian, that I had experience in being invisible. However, when disability is added into the equation, it changes everything.’

Chris Taylor. ‘Who Goes There and How?: Lesbians and Disability’ Women Writers: A Zine. Editor, Kim Wells. Online Journal. Published: May 11, 2001.