My First Democrat Friend

Everyone, meet Lefty.

He's a stuffed donkey with an American flag embroidered on his left hindquarters. The story of how we met is pretty interesting, actually.

I was 14, going in for my first shoulder surgery at Children's Hospital. It was early in the morning, my stomach was full of butterflies, but bereft of all food, and I was shivering. Hospitals are all kept at an inhumanely cold temperature and they make you wear these very light cotton gowns that don't even close all the way. But I digress. The shivering probably had just as much to do with nerves as it did with the cold.

The first OR nurse I saw asked me a whole battery of questions while taking my vital signs. One of the questions was, "Are you pregnant?" I stared blankly at her and blinked a few times, very slowly. I was totally humiliated. "No, ma'am," I said, blushing. On the inside, I was yelling, "WHAT??? DO I LOOK LIKE I'M PREGNANT??? DO I LOOK LIKE SOMEONE WHO WOULD BE PREGNANT AT 14???"

At the time, I didn't realize that this question is standard procedure in any medical setting. If a woman goes in for anything - asthma, broken bones, surgery, concussion, bug spray poisoning, etc. - she will be asked if she's pregnant. The question will probably be asked several times, just to see if they can catch you lying, I guess. Mum explained it to me a few days later when I related this story. At the time, I knew none of this. I thought it was some sort of personal affront against me and my character. Hence the humiliation, spooned on top of some more humiliation. For some reason they had decided to subject me to this interrogation. Me! Why? What did I do wrong?

She continued, "Are you sure?" I nodded, wondering why she insisted on pressing the issue.

After she finished taking my initial vitals, I was ushered into another room. The friendly nurse there asked for a urine sample. "We just need to run a few tests, including a pregnancy test." My eyebrows shot up toward my hairline, but I didn't say anything. My humiliation continued. They didn't believe me. They had gotten it into their heads that I was pregnant and they were going to keep asking me over and over again and they were going to make me pee in a cup. Not only did they think I was sexually active (the effrontery!), but they thought I was a liar on top of that. Add to all of this moral indignation a personal & severe aversion to peeing in a cup. The struggle is real, guys.

After I came back, the nurse finally had something nice to say to me. "We keep a stash of stuffed animals in the back for all you kiddies who have surgery. You get to pick one beforehand and bring it into the OR with you. It will still be there with you in your bed when you wake up." I was a little confused by the offer of a stuffed toy after the repeated questions regarding my suspected pregnancy - if I'm old enough to be pregnant, why would you think I like stuffed animals still? - but I was relieved. Finally, the interrogation was over.

The nurse escorted me out of the room. Prior to this, my mother had always been present in the room. The nurse opened the cabinet and I knelt down next to it. She put a hand on my shoulder, "Go ahead and pick out a stuffed animal, dear, but I wanted to ask you when your mother wasn't in the room: are you sure you aren't pregnant? There is no chance of you being pregnant? There isn't anything to be afraid of, dear."

It was all a trick. A ruse. The stuffed animal was a ploy to get me in a room with a nurse, but without my mother. I almost threw up. (I have a sensitive stomach, guys. Don't judge me.) I repeated my previous answer. No, ma'am. I'm not pregnant. There is no way I could be pregnant. At all. Eager to leave this scene of trickery, I grabbed the first stuffed animal I could, stood up, and walked out.

A few days after surgery, my mother asked why I had a Democrat stuffed animal. I was incredibly confused. A what? "Lefty," she said. "It's the symbol of the Democratic party." I thought the American flag on my horse's rump was just a weird embellishment to make a stuffed toy more patriotic. Turns out it was a donkey. A left-wing donkey.
 

I've had Lefty now for 10 years. He's an excellent snuggle buddy. He has never betrayed or rejected me. He proved to me, from my early teenage years, that I didn't have to be scared of Democrats. Well, it was him and my physical therapist who was a staunch Democrat, but miraculously didn't have horns or a tail, despite what I had been led to believe.

So that's Lefty. Glad y'all got a chance to meet.