Extra Credit

Last summer I had volunteered at a veterans hospital on 23rd and 1st. I had never really noticed how big it was until I went in. When I first got there I noticed that there were a lot of lower class people outside. I was guessing that they were from somewhere in the cold war like Viet Nam. They were very loud and not exactly the type of people I would want to be around. There is a lot of security when you go inside so it is a protected place. Because it was a veterans hospital there were mostly old people. Not that many people looked like they were there because they had serious illnesses. For example only a few had on the mint robe that the patients wear. Also pretty much everything you need to live is there. There is a food court, bathrooms, a souvenir shop, even a place you could get a haircut. I remember it having about 9 floors or so.

Where I worked was in the senior club room and the computer room. It wasn't at all what I thought it would be. When the seniors came they were very happy and enjoyed there time but it was almost as if they were run on a schedule. They had people to come in to entertain them like artistes and musicians. They were all very nice people but many of them forgot my name a lot. The food in the club room though is not like cafeteria food like I expected it would be. It was home made food made by the volunteers and it was quite good. I didn't really talk to many of them directly because I would be busy doing work but I did over hear on a lot of conversations. Surprisingly they weren't uncomfortable talking about the war but it wasn't often brought up. I also realized that they talk about the same issues and have similar arguments that my friends and me have. Their poetry was very deep and somewhat dark. Yet their music was very happy. They are very lively people which contrasts to the movie we watched in class.

Connecting this experience that I had to illness and dying that I have been learning has had me realize that we should let the ill or dying person decide what happens to them. Everybody is their own person and be able to decide their fate. If not don't leave it in the hands of a doctor who may know best, but it isn't the doctors job to know what the patient wants. Let the patient even choose what is done. I have also noticed that the old people I came in contact weren't really very aware of their surroundings. They seemed very happy to be in a hospital, and to get all of these things served to them.