By Yamila García
If you have ever been to the ER, you have probably noticed the chaotic pace there. As expected, tension, urgency, and suffering can be observed. I have recently been there, and it has made me think a lot about how far the health system is from understanding the needs of neurodivergents. The uncertainty and waiting times are just the beginning of the mountain of chaos that one has to face there. Not only do you not know when or what they are going to do to you, but you have to wait a long time in an environment that is not at all “neurodivergent-friendly.” The “beeps,” for God’s sake! The voices, the moans, the screams, the wheels of the stretchers and wheelchairs, the buzzing devices. Not to mention the extremely bright lights and the changes of nurses and doctors without prior notice. Suddenly you are with a nurse, and a few minutes later another one appears, all of them talking faster than you can process, adding to the overwhelming confusion.
I know that everyone comes with urgent problems and that everyone wants to be attended to on time. I understand it and I would not expect priority of any kind in terms of waiting time. However, I have realized that every time I have stepped foot in an ER, I have left with the health problem I had unresolved due to being exhausted and needing to be home before bursting into tears. Frustration, exhaustion, and anger at not being able to receive the care I needed in a calmer environment made me ask to leave after 10-12 hours of putting up with being in that totally unfavorable environment for me.
Physical health care is another area in which my way of perceiving the world interferes. I always try to have a positive outlook regarding progress in inclusion, but there are moments like these when I think the road is longer and more difficult than we would like. Yet, it is an even stronger reason to continue working, communicating, and educating.