The Moment

Many years ago, when I was still fairly new to this work, I had THE MOMENT. That flash in which you realize that the moment you are in matches the picture you hold in your mind's eye as to what your work is about.

I was in the emergency room with a 16 year old girl who had been raped by a neighbor who broke into her home. She was home from school because she was sick. Her mother had gone to another neighbor's home for a few minutes. Her mother thought that the combination of the girl sleeping, the girl's age, and the mom's close proximity made leaving her alone for a few minutes okay. After all, the girl was a good student, active in her church, held down a part time job, and was a virgin.

I asked the girl if she wanted her mother in the examination room while the medical staff gathered the samples needed for the evidence kit. I remember the girl saying no, that her mother "couldn't handle this." The nurse and I exchanged a look in which we understood each other to be thinking -- "and you can?"

We had myself, a female nurse, two female student nurses, a female doctor (which is extremely rare) and a female detective assisting this girl. (The detective was standing outside the door while the actual evidence gathering was being done.) While I held one of the girl's hands and whispered soothing things, I realized that the picture of that room that night was exactly what I imagined this work would be like. A team of women quietly, efficiently, compassionately coming to the aid of woman harmed. Each of us doing our jobs so that this girl might find comfort and justice.

In all the years I've done this work, I've never had another call in which I saw that exact picture again. I've seen remarkable demonstrations of human compassion and caring - but never that exact grouping of all women responding.