Well-Calloused Knees
by, Emma La May Newman, MS-2
It is a cold Ohio winter morning. I turn on the fireplace, pour myself a hot cup of coffee, and read my devotional. Specific words from Matthew 9:36 jump off the page, "and seeing the multitudes, He felt compassion for them" (NASB 1977). How long until I will be in person with multitudes, even a small group of people, I wonder, as I ready myself for another day of online medical school.
An hour later, I check my email. Topping my inbox is a request for first-year medical students to give COVID-19 vaccinations. Sign me up, is my immediate thought. I want to make a tangible, frontline difference. Yet, I am somewhat nervous because I have never given an injection. Like my peers, my clinical skills are solid but limited. What if I insert the needle too deep or what will I say to educate the patient? As I read on, the email assures me that I would be properly trained and supervised. Seems this could be the answer to my morning prayer.
Halfway through my first shift, the supervising RN and I wheel the supply cart to my 30th patient, whom I’ll call Judy. After sitting and waiting patiently for nearly an hour, Judy is eager to receive her vaccine. I thank her for her patience. She smiles, dismissing my concern, and thanks me in return for my service.
I go through my stepwise sanitary process. Judy indicates that she prefers her vaccination in her left arm. I kneel to be eye level as I am 6’1”. Then, I administer her vaccine. As our eyes meet, I notice tears are welling in her eyes. As she blinks, they gently stream down her cheeks behind her mask. “Are you alright, my dear?” I ask and pass her a tissue.
Through sniffles, Judy says, “I just can’t believe it. I am one step closer to seeing my family, in person. I haven’t hugged them in over a year – too afraid I would give or get COVID.”
I educate her that she needs to wait two weeks after she completes the two-part vaccine series. Then, she can feel safer about giving and receiving those hugs, particularly with those who also have had their vaccines.
She nods. In response to my follow-up questions, she shares that, yes, many rituals like birthdays and holidays have been missed or limitedly celebrated, but she’s mastered attending them virtually.
She leans forward and whispers, "I am most eager to see and hold my newest grandson."
At the end of my shift, my knees are sore, partly because of the repeated kneeling and partly because of college basketball injuries. But it’s easy to shrug off. Today, I have helped a small multitude – some siblings, some parents, some grandparents. Like Judy, all my patients had smiled and left hopeful for a return to normalcy, a life pre-COVID-19.
Later that evening, I log onto a virtual Bible study that is associated with the Christian Medical and Dental Association (CMDA) branch at my medical school. At the end of our study, we routinely share praise reports and prayer requests. I unmute myself to share that today, February 3rd, marks the first day that the number of administered vaccines has exceeded the positive diagnoses in Ohio.
A few months pass and I have now given over a hundred vaccinations. My skills are better honed, and my knees are well-callused. Patients have shared how COVID has affected them. Some mourn the loss of family and friends, some struggle with job layoffs, some celebrate the freedom to hug and visit with loved ones again. These communications have made me realize how much I miss social interaction. God has used my modest efforts to show His love to a small multitude.
This experience has me asking myself, what is my expanded role in helping create a safer, healthier, and more compassionate community, rather than idealizing the old normal? This is the new normal that I am most interested in cultivating for myself, peers, and patients. How all of this unfolds remains unclear. Yet, Christ’s example will continue to be my guide and be an example I hold dear.
AUTHOR: Emma La May Newman, MS-2, is a second-year medical student at Wright State University’s Boonshoft School of Medicine. An Arizona native, alumnus of Biola University, and former collegiate basketball player, Emma enjoys exploring new hiking sites in Ohio, baking, and enjoying food with friends and family. In-person patient encounters spark and sustain her joy and passion for medicine. With stories, she encourages friends and fellow believers to endure with radiant hope and creatively share Christ’s compassion with others.
Photo by Austin Neill on Unsplash
