Tuesday, March 15, 2011

At the Hospital

The patient is the one who is suffering. Really. But the attendee, spouse, loved one, caring friend, whoever it may be who takes the patient to the appointment has a certain amount of misery to endure as well.

The mind grows numb, the butt grows numb; the stomach can only ingest so much cold coffee from the courtesy thermos which has been sitting on that table for six hours. The third trip to the restroom should be a break from the tedium, but that has become tedium as well.

The people that pass by on their way to their own appointments with poking and prodding for diagnosis, or for twisting and turning for therapy present a picture of the human condition at its most tenacious. Each one seeking that which he does not have, working assiduously to gain that which he desires. Well-being.

The magazine collection on the table is the donation of the philanthropic minded, that is to say, it is detritus that Mrs. Meddoc has cleared from her own premises. Two of the many, many items here are possible candidates for perusal. It would be a favor to all if one would tote the rest of them to the dumpster behind the boiler room. So now, every page, every advertisement in each of these two rags have been read, the coupons torn from the books. (Our hero hates coupons in magazines. There oughta be a law.) This attendee to the patient now knows how to get out of the bunker and how to strike the ball so it arcs around the tree. But of course he doesn't golf. He knows how to select and plant hydrangea or coleus, but nor is he a gardener.

What he doesn't know is why in blue blazes is this "procedure" taking all afternoon. And yet eventually it is over, patient is released, and away we go! Tra la.


Lin said...

Oh, those are long hours spent waiting....we know the feeling all too well. Minutes feel like hours and there is nothing that makes the time go any faster. Drones of Oprah and Maury play too loudly in waiting rooms and everyone looks so worried and tired.

I pray that things are going well and you will bust her outta there one day soon. In the meantime, catch up on all those old People magazines and let me know who all those young people are. I haven't a clue myself.

I'm thinking of you, pally. And still praying for you both.

Anonymous said...

I hope things are going better and all will be well soon. I know whereof you speak about the waiting...instant empathy.

Secondary Roads said...

As Lin wrote, daytime TV may be the most aggravating part of the experience. I've learned to bring my own book -- more likely a pocket memo book (spiral bound) so that I can compose an haiku or two.

Vee said...

So does the waitee know more than he knew when he went into the waiting room?

vanilla said...

Lin, I sat down thinking to observe people coming and going. This would be certain to provide a good tale or two, for it is true that people are funny. But in this setting, watching the afflicted and put-upon erased all the frivolity in my mind. I could only feel for all the hurting people around us. Thank you for the thoughts and prayers.

Grace, I know that you have too recently experienced this business. Thanks for the kind thoughts.

Chuck, you engage in what my father used to refer to as "redeeming the time." He wasn't one to see a wasted minute go by.

Vee, not yet; but the patient has another appointment tomorrow.

Sharkbytes said...

Well, that was very emotive, but really short on info...

vanilla said...

Shark, true it was not very informative. Issues have been addressed, and as soon as hemoglobin numbers are right the stents will be placed. Couple of weeks, we guess.