Christian Doctor? Thanks, I’ll Pass

There was a time when I thought having a Christian doctor was beneficial. Growing up Christian I felt they were more likely to be kinder, gentler, more compassionate, understanding and in the favor of God. I’ve grown up.

I went to a small private Christian university in Michigan. Let me back up. I went to a small private Christian high school. I had many friends and no boyfriend. That transitioned to going to a small Christian university where I had many friends and no boyfriend.

Unlike some “Christian” girls I’ve read about who’ve made pacts to stay virgin, yet do everything else, I made no pact. By the time I graduated from college the most I’d done was kiss a boy. To be completely frank, I didn’t so much as get fondled. So, I was truly a virgin by the time I graduated college.

The Rash

In my sophomore year of college I developed a rash on my torso. I developed an itchy, burning, painful rash that makes you question your ability to stay sane through the discomfort. After a few days of dealing with the rash, I noticed it was spreading, I went to the campus doctor to find out what it was and what I could do.

“Well, have you been in cheap motels?”
“No.”
“It looks like scabies, are you sure you haven’t been in a cheap motel.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll prescribe some ‘kwell lotion’, but you should be more careful where you go.”

Remember when I told you I was a virgin? Well, I also would never stay in hotels because it wasn’t my norm. I had no money and in college you have friends to bunk with for vacations and weekends away. No hotels needed.

The implication was rude and a bit over my head. I didn’t understand why the assumption would be that I was in a cheap motel. . . until I looked up “Scabies”. My doctor was essentially implying that I was going to cheap motels to have sex and that I picked up this parasite in said motel. YUK!

Christian Doctor? Thanks, I'll Pass | Sedruola Maruska

No Help

The “kwell lotion” used to treat scabies & head lice made things worst. The rash exploded and became even more itchy. When I went back to report the results, the good “Christian” doctor dismissed me. You see, I must have been some kind of harlot getting what I deserved.

Let me pause here to say this, I was also a black female at a predominantly white Christian university. I was expected to be promiscuous . . . racially speaking (but that’s another post).

Fast forward to today and Christian doctors, the ones I thought would be filled with love, compassion and have a direct line to God, are refusing service to patients. They feel morally challenged if their patients are gay, in need of an abortion or they’re transgender. These so-called Christian doctors are taking people’s lives into their hands and playing judge and jury, when what they’re supposed to be are healers.

In Texas, Senate Bill 25 legally allows doctors to lie to their patients based on their “moral” convictions making it harder for parents to make an educated and vital decision about theirs and their baby’s future.

This gives me pause. I look at it and I understand what happened way back then in college, and at times along the way. My eyes are open to the piety.

I’m more likely to trust a doctor who isn’t “Christian” rather than one who is. The one who believes himself to be morally “better” may cause me harm for the “good” of . . . ?  I’d rather trust a doctor who sticks to science, facts and integrity to treat me and mine.

Oh, remember that rash? Turns out it was a physical manifestation of the stress I was under that year. One of my best friends lost her sister that year. We were roommates, I was the closest person to her, so I bore the brunt of her pain. I understood her challenge, I bore her pain, which in turn manifested in a rash.

How do I know? Because as I went to counseling to deal with the pain and hurt I was feeling the symptoms subsided. To this day, when I’m in a situation where I feel unable to vent my feelings, the rash reminds me to release my angst.

The guilt and shame I was made to feel because of my “lacking morality” distracted the doctor from finding out the root cause of my discomfort. Instead of judging me, he should have taken me as a young patient, in school struggling with a very painful situation. He never took the time to talk to me. He didn’t care to distract himself with my case.  I was left to fend for myself and figure it out.

My sophomore year in college was the year I realized  “Christian” doctors did not extend the love and grace of God, they sat in moral judgement of those they treated. I don’t look for Christian doctors. I look for compassionate doctors. I look for doctors who’ll treat me as a human rather than a “woman” or even a “black woman” and give me the respect, compassion and understanding due all humans. To me, that’s not found in a “Christian” doctor, but in a compassionate human.

Let me be clear, I do not believe all Christian doctors are pious, I do, however, believe that they are more likely to treat me from a place of moral piety. When I meet a doctor, if he comes off as “too Godly” I move on, I have no time for that kind of judgement upon my life.


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