Front desk duty. Smiles. Discharges. Small talk. Ever since I received that certificate noting my acceptance to the volunteering program at Kaiser Permanente, I glorified my small position as if I was a CEO of a multi-billion-dollar corporation. But late one day on my usual shift, I had an experience which forced me to re-examine my view of service and instilled in me a virtue I practice even today: humility.
“Help!” “No English!” “¡Duele el pie mucho!” Shock coursed down my spine. Slowly looking up, I was met with the figure of an elderly, ragged-looking homeless man with a gaping hole in his foot; it seemed like a scene straight from Grey’s Anatomy. I had no idea how to react. For me, my Sunday 1-4 shift usually consisted of me carrying out a few discharges, serving drinks to patients’ families, and manning the front desk with my partner Nadia. This was anything but normal. Within the scope of a few minutes, we were hurtling towards the emergency department. “Aid is coming,” I thought. But I thought wrong. …show more content…
“Come over here, and sign,” a receptionist lethargically beckoned. What? Was there a room I needed to take him to? A nurse? No. My patient was forced to sign papers in an alien language, all-the-while bleeding into his makeshift bandage with little concern or attention minded to him. One year later, I have learned that service isn’t about the number of hours tallied, or the position held, but rather the empathy invested into the people I serve. Whether it is the patients I assist at Kaiser, my freshmen that I guide as a Big Brother, the disadvantaged that I used to spend time with at HOPE services and the VA, or the poor that I served at Loaves and Fishes, I try my best to provide a shoulder for someone to lean on. That homeless man taught me that humility is far more valuable than title; sometimes, people need someone who views them as fellow human beings, and not even a CEO with a billion dollars can outbid
“Help!” “No English!” “¡Duele el pie mucho!” Shock coursed down my spine. Slowly looking up, I was met with the figure of an elderly, ragged-looking homeless man with a gaping hole in his foot; it seemed like a scene straight from Grey’s Anatomy. I had no idea how to react. For me, my Sunday 1-4 shift usually consisted of me carrying out a few discharges, serving drinks to patients’ families, and manning the front desk with my partner Nadia. This was anything but normal. Within the scope of a few minutes, we were hurtling towards the emergency department. “Aid is coming,” I thought. But I thought wrong. …show more content…
“Come over here, and sign,” a receptionist lethargically beckoned. What? Was there a room I needed to take him to? A nurse? No. My patient was forced to sign papers in an alien language, all-the-while bleeding into his makeshift bandage with little concern or attention minded to him. One year later, I have learned that service isn’t about the number of hours tallied, or the position held, but rather the empathy invested into the people I serve. Whether it is the patients I assist at Kaiser, my freshmen that I guide as a Big Brother, the disadvantaged that I used to spend time with at HOPE services and the VA, or the poor that I served at Loaves and Fishes, I try my best to provide a shoulder for someone to lean on. That homeless man taught me that humility is far more valuable than title; sometimes, people need someone who views them as fellow human beings, and not even a CEO with a billion dollars can outbid