Black , houseless and a woman and tryna get HELLthcare

By Monique French

Dear…..Mi amor

I met you sometime around November 2017 a month and a half prior to me signing my contingency contract with Tesla in Fremont California.

I love this man! Nathan Sowell is his name. I have loved and shared experiences with you.  It's personal between us, the both of us. Nathan Sowell and Monique French.

So now let me jump into today. 7 years later, I want to remind you of something that's mentally mind fucking me over and over with all consideration of who I am now, and all that I've put you through and you've been through with me and the journeys we've went on together to get here. 

About yesterday, I was looking over my medical encounters when I had HMO medical at Big Bad Kaiser Permanente which was my PCP out of Alameda California. I found the day when shit got real I wanted to run away…. from you, from me, from we, from us!  I can honestly say I'm glad I didn't, I'm so amazed you didn't either. 

We were at the stupid doctor's appointment, and that day of all days my first appointment of many I have missed and I didn't get to meet with my PCP doctor-- it was her fucking assistant of some profession. I was there to get hand and arm braces for my arthritis and when the doctor assistant bitch scolded me about not coming to my scheduled appointments and why she's there and not my PCP doctors because of blah blah blah blah blah all of her personal opinions that weren't helpful at all and didn't matter much. So I was getting upset and feeling attacked. You Nate was like “don't leave Mo she's only telling the truth.”

I got up and wanted to walk out of that cold, White, sterile smelling room. 

I noticed that you didn't notice what she said when she came into the room. She said that “I was just looking over your file.” This isn't a busy office in which they like to brag about all their free time, and she had time on her hands to read. Somewhere in my file she must have seen me that I mentioned something to my doctor; my Methamphetamine usage, and the wanting to stop, the urge and need to want to quit, also the multiple attempts.

But either way, unless she has ways of seeing other doctors offices medical records, all the records that I have in my possession now from this time the results on my methamphetamine test and penal test all were negative. Two of the reports say that they offered me substance/drug support and I denied or declined help and resources and referrals. Total fucking bullshit!  I for sure would have accepted help if it was ever offered to me, especially back then. I wish somebody would have reached out and told me about the aid and support that was out there. 

That assistant chose that day to upset me, and freak me out, and then she waited just as good for me to leave that room and for some reason tell you “‘hey, do you know,” and of course I couldn't hear which you said to her but you backpedaled,  stepped back into that room.

 “Monique is on crystal meth”  screamed thee assistant (of African decent, might I add).

 “I don't know what that is, what is that?” Nathan said.

“Methamphetamine, she's on drugs!” said that assistant bitch!

Not caring about my patient HIPAA rights, domestic violence, or extra turmoils she possibly could have erected in my, well, our life, once we left that doctor's office. 

Now think about this and reading over my notes and how my skin was clearly acting up, which is when I intentionally started to go to the fucking doctors and them treating me like I was bat shit out of my mind. I believe then I was already pregnant. Crazy,  I was gaining weight, my blood pressure was unmanageable (preeclampsia from my first pregnancy), I had about 4 to 5 scares and 4 to 5 urine and one blood test for gestation antepartum at Kaiser. So frustrating. 

I believe we were in the beginning of gestation because I remember at my mom's and me house on her lounge couch and I was writing you like the cowgirl in my Joseline Hernandez voice choice words. I said “oh watch in less than a month we are going, we are pregnant, innate.” (Mi amour tis palabra es por que de palabras tu llama, and if I explained that this will be a book written by me) 

Furthermore we were because when I had my abortion it was due to these reasons: found out just about 5 months, no prenatal care for me or the baby, working long hours, stressed, and that's how I lost my first baby and didn't find out until 5 months.  

Killing my baby, they could have kept those organs. I don't understand to this day why mothers can't keep their own placentas especially after having a diseased baby or complications at birth. We, women, should be able to keep our whole entire life that comes out of us…women.