Oct. 15th, 2004

thejunipertree: (Default)
The other day, I was outside smoking a cigarette with one of my co-workers and she offered to give me a tour of the medical office upstairs. You see, the company I work for has about thirteen offices all over the east coast. One of them is in the same building as the administrative office, which is where I am currently working.

When I had been hired, I was only given the twenty-five cent tour. "This is the lunchroom, this is the reception area, this is the medical office's front desk." But, I had never been brought into the back to see any of the procedure rooms or get to see any of the instruments.

My co-worker usually works in the administrative portion of this company, but every Wednesday, she works upstairs in the medical office during what we call session. Session is when we actively see patients for abortion procedures, among other things.

On this particular day, session had just ended and all patients were gone from the premises and we thought this would be a fabulous time for me to get the full monty.

Jo-Jo, my co-worker, took me upstairs. First, she showed me the procedure that she normally works in. It's quite tiny, the second procedure room is much larger. The instruments were all taken out and cooed over (O, curette, how I love thee) and the vacuum aspirator was demonstrated (well, demonstrated as much as possible without an actual patient there).

I got to see the recovery room, with all of its recliners lined up in a row, and the spartan doctor's office. She showed me cannullas and tubing and jars and speculums. All the sizes of cervix dilators. The best part, THE BEST PART, is when one of the other techs came over to us with two bags in her hand.

They each had one small cup in them. For those of you who have ever had the misfortune of being drug tested, you would say that they resembled urine collection cups. I remarked how closely they resembled these cups, myself.

I'm cutting this to be nice to the people on my friends list. If you're squeamish about abortion or even just squeamish in general, DO NOT continue. I really mean it. When I tell you that something might squick you out and it's related to my job, pay fucking heed. I don't want to hear any complaining. No, really. I'm serious. )

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thejunipertree

January 2011

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