Three forms of identification and a letter from God.

When I was street homeless, the challenge was getting to see a general practitioner. So many obstacles were in the way—no address, out of area, no proof of who I was. It was as if I needed three forms of identification and a letter from God just to get past the receptionist. Surgery doors closed in my face, and excuse after excuse was given as to why I couldn’t see the doctor. I was sent to other surgeries, dragging myself and my possessions halfway across town only to be sent away once I got there. Same old story