Yesterday Jenny, Alex and I went after church to visit a friend who was admitted into the hospital. I use this word very loosely. The moment you walked in, you could smell the urine and there was a dog sleeping in a corner as we walked to the stairs. Our friend was on the 3rd floor. She was in a shared room and it was filthy. While talking our friend, she told us how she had seen one doctor and hadn’t even been checked on by a nurse for around 10 hours. She was in a lot of pain and the only person that came in was someone to switch her saline and they didn’t pay her any attention. We started asking about the care she was receiving, or lack there of, and discovered her insurance would cover the same amount at a different, MUCH better, hospital. I called our pastor for his advice and he thought the same—move her. Alex and our friend’s daughter started the process to have her discharged. During this time a lot of people caught wind of what we were doing…2 white girls and a Dominican man were going to get better care for their friend. Suddenly, 2 nurses were in her room checking her vitals. Now, it may have been the normal time they do rounds, I don’t know, but it set me off. I was so happy that my friend actually has insurance and can go to a better hospital…and then I looked down the hallway to see an elderly lady all alone and many others who do not have the same chance for good health care. It saddens me greatly. I don’t know how we, as Christians, can stand by and not participate in fighting for those that cannot fight for themselves. I know where Jesus would have been in this picture. He would have been fighting for the widow all alone and those that were stuck without another option. I’m still struggling with what role I played. I can’t feel good about just getting my friend out of that situation when there are so many others that were left as we drove away.