Hospital Volunteer: It's What I Am Now Sometimes

esterday I went to NKC Health, the hospital that's kind of near my house, and volunteered. It was my fourth time there, spending four hours helping out on Tuesday afternoons.

I changed beds when patients left their beds. I wheeled patients from the seventh floor to the first floor, so they could exit the hospital.

Two of the five elevators were broken, so there were long lines to get on the elevators, and long waits for those who needed to climb aboard.

Working from home, I'm in isolation all the time. I ghostwrite; I edit other people's work; I write my own stuff. I'm all alone.

I don't get lonely. I live with my family. I couldn't be lonely if I wanted to. And I don't want to.

But I started volunteering at the hospital to remember what it's like to do physical work with other people, to play a role in which you and others inhabit a space together and carry out your allotted duties without getting in each other's way. You lend a hand to the people around you when you can. You develop a rapport with whoever you work with the closest. You learn how to read facial expressions and body language.

You know when to ask Rachel how her kids are doing, and when to let her carry on with whatever she's up to in the moment. She looks busy. Better give it a minute. But you do hope her kids are doing well.

You walk into a room on the first day, and everyone's a stranger; by the time you've returned for your third shift, you know some or most of their names, and unless you're somebody who sucks they're happy to see you.

I'm starting to come around to thinking that people shouldn't mind their own business so much. I wonder if we should all mind each other's business more.

I'm not sure if I really think that, or why I think it, or what I really even mean. But I'm continuing my volunteering visits to NKC Health. I am meeting more nurses and lots of patients. One man who was there with his wife yesterday turns a hundred next month. He fought in World War II.

I'm meeting more people in four hours at a time than I typically do in four months.

I may become one of those guys who's constantly asking people questions about themselves. Like the way they ask questions is like kicking your legs when you tread water. If the guy doesn't keep asking questions, he might drown.

I don't know if there really are guys like that. If there's not, I may have to become the first one.