something old, something new

This morning, I did something I don't recall ever doing before: I donned surgical gloves. I was shadowing one of the doctors on the ward, and a few of the kids we saw during rounds needed blood work done. One of the kids was a little girl about two years of age. We took them into the procedure room to draw blood. When we turned to this little girl, I stepped up to the table (joining the doctor, the intern, and the girl's mother) to help hold her in place so blood could be drawn from her femoral vein (presumably). I ended up holding the girl's legs, with my hands just inches below where the needle would go. The doctor hesitated a second, and then said to me, "Put on gloves."

The fact that I encounter a number of HIV+ people (adults and children) in clinical settings on any given day has become almost entirely disconnected from any anxiety I have about my own exposure to the virus. (The luxury of the anthropologist: I just want to watch...) On the other hand, I don't know what I would think about my own potential exposure to the virus if needles and the precautions associated with them ever became routine to me.

That said, the politics of the provision of post-exposure prophylaxis among expat medical professions is fascinating to me.

Today I also purchased a garment the likes of which I haven't owned or worn since childhood: a half-slip. (According to wikipedia, I can claim to have purchased a petticoat. How Victorian!) It's awfully toasty around here, and even when it isn't, skirts are de riguer. I stocked up on long skirts of a cotton/linen blend before coming here, but, despite their dark colour, there are times when I worry about their transparency.

So it goes. I don't think that I may be putting myself in the way of a potentially contaminated needle, but I worry that people can see my legs.