Hospital Clínco San Carlos

For those of you who are my avid fans you may remember that several posts ago I mentioned that I’m taking a class on NGOs in Spain and one of the requirements is a 60 hour internship. I elected to volunteer with an organization called Desarollo y Asistencia. They do all sorts of great things in Madrid. I know because I had to sit through their two hour initiation session. It was very informative, but it was also a lot of very, very rapid Spanish in a hot, crowded room while I really had to go to the bathroom. In any case, they send volunteers to nursing homes, homeless shelters, and hospitals. I’ve never volunteered at a hospital before, but decided that now was as good a time as any to try it out. Actually, I picked the hospital because I wanted a site where I would be able to practice my Spanish and also because my professor said that the students who have worked with D&A in the past have had found it to be very personally enriching.

I find that I often sign-up to do something that sounds really cool and then when the moment comes to actually do the thing I get very nervous. That was absolutely what happened before my first visit at the hospital. Although I don’t have the stress of difficult classes or loads of extra-curricular activities here, there is stress built into every interaction because there is still so much Spanish that I cannot understand, and my comprehension is far worse when I’m nervous. My anxiety stemmed from the fact that I had to 1) Find the hospital and then the correct place in the hospital. I had received lengthy directions to the volunteer office over the phone (in Spanish) from the coordinator, but they were complicated and past experience has taught me that I can, at times, be directionally challenged. 2) I had to talk with a whole lot of people who I didn’t know. This always makes me mildly uncomfortable, even in English. 3) I had to visit with sick people. I HATE illnesses and doctors and hospitals. As I set off, I was cursing myself for my ridiculous urge to get a different perspective on Madrid.

These frantic thoughts were simply last-minute panic and they evaporated when I arrived (early and without problems!) in the hospital’s volunteer office. The coordinator was late, but I chatted with another volunteer who was also there, Raquel. I learned this week that she’s 75, but she doesn’t look much over 60. She’s been coming to the hospital for the last 5 years, but had to take the last year off because she had ankle surgery and then fell and broke her wrist. She was incredibly nice and immediately made me feel welcome. Once the coordinator and other volunteers came there were besos (kisses) all around and then we got down to business.

Volunteers work in pairs. My partner was the only other person under 50 in the room. Her name is Alma and she’s 18! It was exciting to be working with another student and she was great about speaking slowly and making sure I understood (most of) what was going on. Each pair receives a list of names and rooms from the coordinator and then we go off and find the rooms and talk with the patients. It’s a good system and you can get through about 4 or 5 people in the two hours. Like I said, I’ve never volunteered at a hospital before and I don’t really know what to say to sick people in English, let alone Spanish, but I learned a lot from my co-worker. She was really good about being sympathetic, but also trying to encourage people to keep a positive attitude.

The first man we visited has been in the hospital with a head injury for the last 5 or 6 months. He’s up and walking around now so we accompanied him to the other end of the hallway and then bought him a coke. He didn’t have a lot to say and Alma told me that he we had found him in a bad mood. The next person we went to visit we couldn’t find. We found the room just fine, but the patient in the bed listed was not the one we wanted and no one in the room knew where to find her. Alma told me that this happens occasionally and we moved on to the next patient. The next one was really exciting for me because he spoke English! Originally from the Ivory Coast he had moved to Spain about a month ago. It was a little embarrassing because he spoke no Spanish before arriving, but after just a month his mastery of the language was as good, if not better than mine. He said it was only because he could also speak French, but I think perhaps he was just being kind. He was a very impressive young man who, in addition to French, English, and Spanish also spoke Arabic and Hebrew. Yeah, I don’t get it either. We spent a long time with him and then had to head back to the volunteer office where we gave a brief report on all the people we had seen and the state in which we had found them. All of the volunteers also asked me eagerly how I had enjoyed the hospital, and I told them that it had been a little overwhelming but great.

Several of them also asked for my number and promised me they’d find me some Spanish friends. I was doubtful, but gave them my number anyway. More on this later…

This post is absurdly long, but I am so excited about the hospital and wanted to convey at least some sense of what it’s like. I’m spending almost six hours a week there for the next 2 months so it will be a decent part of my experience in Spain and probably just a good life experience as well. I am sure there will be more hospital stories to come!