Here and There

Day four. That would be about 16 hours or so at this point. It would be day six, but I’ve been unable to attend twice. Day four of volunteering. This is where I will talk about the things I see on the way of getting into medical school. Thus far, I’m a junior in college. I graduated high school in 2005 in the not so great state of Alabama (sorry, I’m not a fan of college football and humidity). The friends I made in high school are still friends of mine, still great ones. I live in Arizona now, with my family, a job, and school. Throw in volunteering, and it’s an interesting combo.

The first day wasn’t too notable. I was in the process of being acclimated to the atmosphere, the nurses, and my responsibilities. No one really had a set of tasks for me to do; random nurses who had a few minutes to speak to me threw it all together. The most notable (and time-consuming/mindless) responsibility that I have is to make “Cigars”. The cigars are used by the nurses when putting in IVs or some sort of puncture to a patient. Basically, I cut strips of a material called Coban and roll two pieces of 2×2 (small squares of cloth) inside. Side note: Coban smells funny. I can’t describe it, but it’s a distinct smell. Rolling cigars is time consuming, but when I’m making them, I get to listen to the nurses talk amongst themselves. I really feel like a fly on the wall (I wish there was a better phrase than this, I’m no fly). I will explain that with the later days. The rest of the first day did not hold much excitement; it was as if I was not even on the floor. Not many people acknowledged me, but one nurse did give me a much-needed tour of the hospital. Nice place, I would want to shadow someone in the operating room (OR) in the future.

The second day was a bit more normal. The nurses had more time to speak to me on that day, they even asked what I wanted to do with my life. Making cigars was my first task. Back to feeling like I am a fly on the wall. Now, the entire floor is full of female nurses. There is one male, but I’m not sure he’s actually a nurse, more of an assistant. A group of nurses was talking near my cigar production table; so naturally, I’m going to hear every word. One of the women was talking about flatulence. I’m still wondering why she felt they needed to discuss it. She went on about trying to hide it from her husband, and how it affects their sex life. She would mention something and they would all cackle for a while. I tried so hard to keep a straight face; it would be easy if she weren’t actually acting out the scenarios. After I finished rolling cigars, I started stocking the rooms with linens and other medical supplies. This is where I have contact with patients. Most of them are asleep, but occasionally, one will be awake and ready for a speech. Bob, an 80-year-old war-veteran and mine operator, was the first life story I heard. The man was incredibly sound for being 80 years old but his story would skip time occasionally. He could remember exact phone conversations he had fifty years ago. To me, this is the reason why I volunteer. Besides being in a hospital atmosphere, getting to listen to patients is really my favorite part. I live in a part of town where a large portion of “Snowbirds” come to spend their time. I would not say I’m a fan of the general older population in my area, but only because of the ornery ones I deal with at work (computer repair). I respect them. I respect Bob a lot, in fact; I liked Bob. He had wisdom. I fear that many people my age aren’t open to hearing people like Bob talk, a lack of respect. He talked about his past careers and how he worked too much. He talked about how he regretted spending less time with his wife to work. The most profound thing I heard from him was about the fights he would have with his wife (they have been married for 60 years). He said that the time he wasted not talking to her was foolish; that life really was too short. It’s sad that you have to be 80 years old to realize that. While he was in the hospital, she was taking care of business with their family. He was worried because she is in the first state of Alzheimer’s. They had 8 children together. He said they only had one bad egg, which makes pretty good odds. Bob was a nice man.

The third day was much like the first. I got to overhear the nurses again, while I made cigars. This time, the topic of conversation was the “How to get a man” walk. Apparently, this walk tells the opposite sex that you’re ready to have their last name and take out a mortgage together! Again, it was really hard for me to keep a straight face. They took turns walking on an imaginary catwalk. After making cigars, I stocked rooms (it was starting to become a routine). This day, Robert (I think that was his name) stopped me. Robert was in the hospital with his wife of only 20 years; his wife of 40 years died from cancer. They were in a pretty good mood, laughing together. He kept telling me I’d make a really pretty nurse, despite the fact that I told him I’m going to school to be a surgeon more than once. Robert didn’t have much to say, other than to talk about his life. Where he had been, the things that he had seen. Nice man, and completely not ready to leave life. His wife was about 20 years younger than him. As I was leaving his room, he told me again that I’d make a real beautiful nurse.

Yesterday was my fourth day at the hospital. The weather is weird this time of year because it is incredibly hot (110°F+) outside, but we are getting monsoons. I think this made me really sleepy (and the fact that I had work for 6 hours before going to the hospital) so I don’t recall any interesting conversations from the nurses. I made cigars for about two hours and then stocked rooms like normal. I didn’t feel like talking to any patients for hours on end because I feared I’d fall asleep. However, as I walked past one of the rooms, I heard an elderly gentleman tell his wife “You’ve spent all your life taking care of me, it’s nice to finally be able to take care of you.” It gives me hope.