The price was right. Ever since it first opened its doors, the LA Free Clinic was a welcome refuge for those lacking in either medical insurance or financial resources — which, as a recent college graduate in the mid-1970s, was me. Once there, you could seek assistance for everything from a dog bite or sprained ankle to hepatitis or pregnancy testing. All you had to do was walk in, provide the quasi-hippie chick behind the counter with your name, reason for visit, astrological sign (no, I am not making that up), and then wait…and wait…and wait…
As I settled into a hard plastic chair on that faded linoleum floor, I noticed against the wall, a large wooden rack, chock full of educational pamphlets, all arranged in alphabetical order. Since I had nothing but time and anxiety on my hands, I perused each one, working my way from A to Z. Allergies. Breast Cancer. Coronary Heart Disease. Diabetes. Epilepsy.
When I reached Venereal Diseases, I thought, “Okay, let’s see what’s happening in that world.” The first page covered gonorrhea; the second, syphilis. The brochure was loaded with basic medical information, accompanied by some disgustingly graphic illustrations. Then I got to a sentence that, even to this day, still sends shivers down my spine: “Of course, one can contract both gonorrhea and syphilis in the same sexual encounter.” (Boy, talk about your rotten luck!) My mind raced to one possible scenario:
FADE IN:
INTERIOR: COUPLES’ BEDROOM — NIGHT
HE
Baby, I have some really bad news…
SHE
What is it, sweetie?
HE
…and I hope that you’ll be able to forgive me.
SHE
It’s okay, you can tell me. I’ll always love you. No matter what.
HE
Well…I just found out that I tested positive for gonorrhea. And I probably gave it to you.
SHE
What?! How could you?!
(choking back tears)
You miserable piece of shit!
(now sobbing uncontrollably)
HE
You’re right. I am a miserable piece of shit. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
SHE
Forgive you? How could I ever forgive you?!
HE
I’m not sure. But I pray that you can. You mean everything to me. I’ll do anything to make things up to you.
SHE
I don’t know. I just don’t know.
(sobbing again)
You’re such an asswipe! I trusted you!
HE
Please? I beg you, please?
SHE
(after a pause)
All I can say is that I’ll think about it.
(wiping away her tears)
I mean, I don’t want to throw away our whole relationship.
HE
Thank you, thank you, thank you baby. I love you so much!
SHE
I love you too. We’ll find a way to work this out.
HE
I know we will.
(after a pause)
Oh, baby…?
SHE
Yes, sweetie?
HE
Umm…there’s just one more little thing…
FADE TO BLACK
As anyone who knows me would testify, I am by nature anything but an optimist. For some, the glass is half full. For others, the glass is half empty. I used to joke that for me, there is no glass.
However, over time and with mindful effort, I have found that it is possible to gradually shift that perspective in a more constructive direction by focusing on worse case circumstances. Fever of 101? Well, it could be 104. Can only afford to buy one new pair of shoes? It could be zero pairs of shoes. Having a squabble with your partner? At least you have a partner. When someone says to me, “Well, at least it couldn’t be any worse,” my rejoinder is usually swift and firm: “Don’t say that! Things can always get worse!” (And, frankly, at some point in the future, they very likely will be.)
I don’t recall what actually brought me in to the LA Free Clinic that day. But I do remember what I came away with: The knowledge that, no matter how bad things are, they could always be worse — so, try to be grateful that they aren’t. And the price for that nugget of wisdom was, fittingly, free.