The Clinic

I haven’t spent a ton of time in the clinic, because, well, that’s DEFINITELY not my area of strength, but I have spent some time there to try serving in a new way and push myself outside of my comfort zone.

I don’t really know much about medical handling procedures in America, but I am pretty sure they don’t have random volunteers pouring medicine from huge jugs into little containers, estimating 100 mL, and occasionally spilling on themselves.

Oh, and it’s considered perfectly sanitary because we wash our hands once upon entering the clinic.

Friday is baby day, which is fun because it means handling adorable little babies (taking their height and weight), but not so fun because it means trying to comfort them and holding their hands while they get shots (which is just done on a table in a room with people coming in and out).

Knowing myself, I chose to handle this whole thing by closing my eyes, letting the baby squeeze my finger, and speaking to him or her in soothing tones.  Whenever the shots were all over, I opened my eyes to dress the baby, comfort him or her, and try to end the tears until the baby was safely returned to the mother’s back, tied securely by a blanket for the walk home.

Once I accidentally opened my eyes before one of the baby’s shots was done.  I saw the needle in the poor, sweet little angel’s leg, and I wanted to puke or cry or scream louder than the baby was.  I really don’t understand how anyone can ever be a doctor, but I sure am thankful that there are people who can handle that.

Although a clinic is never somewhere I will voluntarily put myself again unless there is great need, I think the experience was good for me!