It Happened To Me: I Announced I Was On My Period To My State's Right-Wing Health Director When I Saw Him At A Diner

How to terrify and mortify an Anti-Choice Bureaucrat: A guide!

Hello Goobs,

Speaking of abortion rights. For starters, Robin, who you met in another post recently that was quite popular, sent me an idea for a story about this very specific incident. Partly because it is not an epically long and drawn out tale (though I love those too), I assigned it to show you the potential variety and range of these It Happened To Me stories and to encourage you to send your own in (to jane@anotherjaneprattthing.com).

I hope it is also a reminder to all keep doing everything big and small to support reproductive freedom. It is devastating to see in running this story how much things have devolved since this shitty anti-choice move from years ago that Robin that writes about. Going even further back, I never would've imagined all those decades ago when I was hosting Sassy magazine benefits around the country to raise money for Planned Parenthood - or in college giving my little $15 a month donations to what was then the National Abortion Rights Action League - how much worse things would be now.

I deeply appreciate the Substack Abortion Every Day and keep up with all of their posts to see where I might be able to help or to pass the word on, even when sometimes the subject lines alone make me depressed and angry and not in a mood to hear more bad news. They are doing such important work by keeping us all informed, so definitely subscribe and support them however you can.

You can do whatever you want to help and I know that you will and I love you for it. A little thing you can do here if you want to is buy one of these exclusive Sassy T-shirts (just like the ones in the old days) with the chunk of profits going to those two organizations (NARAL is now called Reproductive Freedom For All). When I wear mine, I feel like I'm back hosting those Sassy benefits with Joan Jett (who thought I didn't like her – another story - but I love her!) and sweet shy Joey Ramone next to me, yelling into the mic, encouraging people to support these important organizations. But I have to yell even louder now.

Let's talk about Robin's piece and the state of abortion rights and what bow-ties indicate and anything else you want to in the comments. As per usual. Also, what do you think of the word gubernatorial and do you have trouble saying it like I do?

Love,

Jane

Waiting at my local Planned Parenthood in March 2019. About ten minutes after I took this selfie, I'd learn that HPV had created cancerous cells in my cervix.

By Robin Wheeler

No one needs to tell you it's dire times for women's healthcare, and has been for a long time. How did we get into this nightmare, anyway? Slowly, through concerted efforts made from the time Roe v. Wade became law. Growing up in rural Missouri, I saw a lot of anti-choice speeches complete with bloody visual aids as a teen on the speech and debate circuit. We thought that was a normal poster for a 14-year-old to make.

Fast forward over 35 years to 2019, when I recognized the Planned Parenthood doctor in St. Louis who removed the cancerous cells from my cervix and saved my life. I saw him the night before on CNN, discussing the state's passage of an eight-week abortion ban. From Anderson Cooper straight to my diseased cervix.

One of those risks to cervixes was in the guise of Dr. Randall Williams, an anti-choice OB/GYN who was the director of the Missouri's Department of Health and Senior Services at the time.

I grabbed the sleeve of that very jacket (or one that looks just like it) … and you can see I wasn't exaggerating about the haircut and the tie.

A few months after my successful cervix-slicing, Williams accidentally made news because he got the great idea for the state government to track the periods of Planned Parenthood patients as a way to tell who might be having abortions that violated the ban.

Absurd, right? This was before we lived in a country where certain states outlawed abortion and jailed women for miscarrying. It was easier to laugh at Williams' ridiculous plan back then. And I had the opportunity to do just that to his face.

“His bowl haircut and bow tie screamed ‘I had to go to medical school in order to ever get near a vagina.’”

In the heady pre-Covid days of November, 2019, I was free of cervical cancer and living it up. One night, while at a meet and greet for author Lindy West, I got that unpleasant surprise of a very heavy period arriving a few days ahead of schedule while at the venue. It felt right, though, bleeding at an event where there was ample discussion of women's bodies and the prejudices about them. Afterward, I left flying high in all of my bleeding lady writer power.

Bleeding profusely with Lindy West, November 2019. (She doesn't like me much, but that's another story.)

The next day, I joined my friends Sarah and Matt at a popular St. Louis barbecue joint for lunch. They'd come to town from Chattanooga for a Wilco concert and I was excited to spend some time with them, cramps and clots be damned.

We sat at our table, loaded with ribs and burnt ends, catching up and making plans for the evening when I saw him walk in. Williams was hard to miss, with his bowl haircut and bow tie. It's a look that screamed, "I had to go to medical school in order to ever get near a vagina."

Sarah and Matt had their backs to the door and didn't see his entrance. Nor did they know who he was, since they lived in Tennessee and Williams had been but a minor blip in the national news cycle. But I knew without question that he was gunning to be Head Period Tracker in Chief, and I was ready.

“I threw a tampon on the table, aligned with the fork and knife, ready for his return.”

As he passed our table, I reached for the sleeve of his overcoat, gently tugging. "Excuse me, Dr. Williams," I said in my softest voice.