14 Long at the Med Center is 1/3 chemo, 1/3 medicine, and 1/3 palliative care. The chemo side is quiet - doors closed except for the few passers through. Patients in their beds and maybe a family member plinking away at a laptop to pass the time. The medicine hall is kind of a mystery to me so far - some doors are open with daytime TV drifting out into the hallway. Others are closed, but judging from the bold lettered signs next to the precautionary gowns, gloves, and masks you have to put on to before going inside, it's a good thing they are! By far the most activity is on the palliative wing, where family groups are gathered at doorways - allowing one or two at a time in to say their goodbyes. There's a beautiful solarium at the corner of the palliative hall that feels like a crows nest overlooking the skyline and the Golden Gate and the sea. A reminder that life is still happening to all the lookers-out.
So on every Thursday and Friday this summer from 7-4pm, that's where I will be. Struggling to stay out of the nurses way but still learn from what they're doing. Attempting to be useful with the so-far-not-very-extensive skills I learn in lab. Willing my hands to avoid the nervous shakes when I take a patient's vitals. Praying to all things holy that I don't mess up... at least not too badly.
14 Long will force me to put my head down, dig deep, and keep my sense of humor. I don't really know what I was expecting, but I can tell you this: Last week when I was leaning against the wall with a classmate- our eyes wide, our discomfort palpable- I started to giggle. "Welp. I guess this is the furnace," I said, "And we just got thrown right in."
No comments:
Post a Comment