She's Not a Fan

Chapter 9

***AN Hey - if you're sick, see a doctor.  Don't believe everything you read on the Internet (or Wattpad)! :) ***

The advantage of working part-time at the Family Medicine Clinic was having time left over for other interests.  Danni worked with the hockey team and Sarah helped street youth.  The Mobile Teen Clinic was her baby. 

Clarington had a whole population of teenagers who had trouble accessing medical care.  Some lived on the street, some on their own, and some raised siblings while a parent tried to make ends meet.  And with all of that, there were escalating numbers of teenage pregnancy, malnutrition and mental health issues.

So Sarah decided to do something about it.  She took the clinic to them.  She raised funds, applied for government grants, and bought and renovated an oversized cube van.  On Tuesday and Thursday afternoon and evenings, it parked at three different locations in town. The furniture and space in the truck was simple, but clean, and the examining room was fully equipped with the latest technology.  And a dream to use.

One of her best decisions was hiring Hank as an assistant and driver.  Hank could manoeuvre their big-honking truck into the tightest of spaces.  He was a full head shorter than her, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in breadth.  He could stop people with a steely stare, something he perfected working as a bouncer through his nursing degree.  He was also gentle and compassionate, and just as readily flashed a wide grin.  Which is what the teenagers related to.  He remembered their names, and drew them into the clinic. 

Sometimes Sarah drove separately and met up with Hank once he parked, but today she hitched a ride.  A mobile meeting to discuss the mobile clinic.  Funding was always on the agenda. 

“Hey, I heard a rumour that the clinic might be at risk for closing unless some money is found,” Hank said, rubbing his bald head.  He only did that when he was really worried.   

She nodded.  “It’s true.  I’ve had meetings with both the accountant and the lawyer.  We’re OK for another eight months or so.  But after that…”

“We have to do something.  The kids need this clinic.”

“I know.  Closing is not an option.  I was thinking it’s time to look at the private sector.  Government money is too fickle.”

“Yeah.  Especially with an election on the horizon.  Street youth aren’t exactly a priority.”

“No, unfortunately not.  Comcor announced they’re going to invest in a community project.  I contacted them, and they may consider the Teen Clinic.  I have to put together a proposal and present it to them next week.”

Hank nodded.  “They’re probably the biggest employer in Clarington.  It’s good for them to support the community that way.”

“I agree.  The only wrinkle is we’re not the only project they’re considering.”

“They’ll get their money’s worth if they go with us.  We know how to stretch a dollar.”

She laughed.  “It’s true.  It could be our motto.”

“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.  I’d like to help.”

“Thanks, I will.  Every little bit makes a difference.”

 As Hank manoeuvred the Mobile Unit into place, she sifted through and signed off on lab results and consult letters.  Later they’d be scanned into the medical records. 

Hank went to open up the clinic.  The chairs and equipment were cleverly stowed and locked for travel, but within minutes, Hank had removed safety covers, opened storage cabinets and set up chairs in the waiting room.  By the time he finished, patients were waiting.