How much pain do I need to be in for health-care professionals to see past their biases and help me?

Living with the double burden as a Black man with sickle cell disease has made me feel overlooked by health-care professionals at times. What does it take to not be ignored?

Sometimes I waited for hours in hospital hallways waiting to be seen

Gabriel Badejo · for CBC First Person

· Posted: Oct 14, 2026 1:37 PM EDT | Last Updated: October 14

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This First Person is the experience of Gabriel Badejo, who lives in Toronto. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.  

Imagine you’re walking down the street and someone falls in front of you — an elderly woman with a walker. Do you stop to help her? What about a man in a suit? What about a teenager in a hoodie?

I'd like to think most of us would help all three. But if we're honest, our biases would determine how quickly we respond. Or if we respond at all.

I was born with sickle cell disease, an inherited blood disorder that causes red blood cells to become hard, sticky and misshapen into a crescent or sickle shape that blocks blood flow. It results in episodes of extreme pain. One woman with sickle cell said the pain of a sickle cell crisis is much worse than labour contractions. 

Sickle cell disease, a debilitating and life-threatening genetic blood disorder, disproportionately affects Black people and those of South Asian and Middle Eastern descent.

I have had too many of these sickle cell crises to count. But when I seek care, I am often dismissed for reasons I struggle to understand. It’s something I explored in my documentary on CBC, The Sickling. 

When I was 18, I felt a sickle cell crisis coming on and within 15 minutes, I went from moving normally to being barely able to stand. On the way to the hospital in Toronto, my pain went from a seven out of 10 to a 10.

While waiting to be seen in the emergency room, I was in so much pain that I wasn’t able to sit. The nurses said there were no beds available, so one of my friends put a jacket on the floor for me to lie on. I was on the floor screaming, writhing in pain, without any pain meds for hours. 

I was in a position where I couldn’t help myself, and being told to wait by the people who could help was deeply isolating.

I remember trying my best to hold back tears while asking myself: Why don’t the staff want to help me? What makes me a low priority?

Does something about me suggest I’m not actually sick and just looking for drugs? Is it because I'm Black? Do they lack understanding about how to treat sickle cell crises? Are there that many patients in a worse condition than me? Are they unaware of the treatments for a sickle cell crisis? 

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Even if any of that is true, shouldn't seeing someone in that much pain break through someone’s assumptions?

WATCH | My childhood with sickle cell disease:

A lifetime of pain: growing up with sickle cell disease

October 14|

Duration

2:19

Filmmaker Gabriel Badejo was diagnosed with sickle cell disease early in life. He learned quickly that the simple joys other kids took for granted could send him to the hospital. Watch The sickling on CBC Gem.

For most of my life, I had numerous pain episodes each year, with at least two sending me to the hospital every year. With so many visits, I began testing ways to present myself, hoping that my care might improve.

Maybe I shouldn't wear a hoodie. Maybe I should dress like I had just come from work. Maybe I should bring my prescriptions and someone to advocate on my behalf. If that person isn't also Black, maybe they will listen. But nothing changed.

• Risking everything on a cure for sickle cell disease, a filmmaker records his journey

Then in 2018, I had the worst episode of sickle cell of my adult life. With all my experience dealing with pain crises, even I was shocked at how bad it was. It felt like my time was coming. 

I called 911 and the ambulance rushed me to the nearest hospital. Even after being dropped off by paramedics, the hospital staff told me I was a drug seeker.

What more has to happen for that magic threshold to be met and for my situation to receive the care it warrants? 

WATCH | Not receiving the care I need:

The hospital labelled me as a drug seeker

October 14|

Duration

2:41

Then in 2018, Badejo had the worst episode of sickle cell of his adult life. Even after being dropped off by paramedics, hospital staff labelled him as a drug seeker and delayed providing pain relief. Watch The Sickling on CBC Gem.

An opportunity I never dared to dream of

That particular experience had a significant impact on me.

What’s worse is the feeling that if this is happening to me, it’s also happening to others with sickle cell.

Health-care workers can't keep dismissing, doubting or accusing us of putting on an act to get drugs when we need help. 

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  It took months for a doctor to take my symptoms seriously

It was during that hospital visit that I decided to make The Sickling. I wanted to do something that might make things better for whoever came after me.

Then my own story took a turn. I was invited to participate in a stem cell transplant trial to cure my disease, an opportunity I’d never dared to dream of.

Sickle cell has historically received far less research funding than other genetic diseases, such as cystic fibrosis or hemophilia. But an estimated eight million people are living with sickle cell around the world. Most will never have access to the treatment I received.

Throughout the process of making The Sickling, I discovered that the first person to be cured of sickle cell, through a bone marrow transplant, was an eight-year-old in 1983. The transplant was actually meant to treat her leukemia, but it cured both diseases. Nearly four decades later, I began my transplant trial at Princess Margaret Cancer Centre in Toronto. 

I couldn’t help but wonder, if this was discovered long ago, why is my procedure a medical trial? Why couldn't I have done this when I was eight?

In 2021, Badejo was offered access to a stem-cell transplant trial, launching years of treatment and healing. (Gabriel Badejo)

When do we decide to care?

When I think about the example of the person on the sidewalk, perhaps the question isn't whether we would help someone who falls. Maybe the question is, how far are we willing to let them fall before we decide they’re worth helping?

I don't expect anyone to suddenly lose every bias they have. I have them, too.

But I do think we can check ourselves. We can notice when our assumptions shape how we treat someone. We can ask why we believe one person's pain faster than another's. We can speak up when we see someone being dismissed. We shouldn't need to see someone hit rock bottom before we decide to care.

Watch The Sickling on CBC and the CBC Docs YouTube channel.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gabriel Badejo is a Canadian director and producer with a career that spans over a decade in film and media. His work explores deeply human stories through themes of identity, resilience, community and healing.