There are few equalizers in life, but hospital waiting rooms are one of them. There is no such thing as rich or poor in a hospital waiting room. We’re all here for one reason or another, but really, when it comes down to it, one of our loved ones is hurt and we are waiting for them to get well.
After giving my mom a hug and bidding her farewell for preop I fight back some tears and scurry down the hall for a caffeinated distraction. Thankfully the people at the espresso stand know what a London Fog is. I head to the waiting room, and sip my drink. Thank God for small creature comforts.
I strike up a conversation with a kind lady in the waiting room. We don’t give details, but I overhear that she’s here for her grandma. More shocking, however, is when the doctor comes in to update her on her grandmother’s process.It’s my mom’s doctor. I realize now why my mom’s surgery was bumped back to noon. This lady’s grandmother is the emergency procedure that my mom had mentioned earlier.
It’s easy to see other patients here as just other procedures,especially when said procedures are the reason for set backs and time changes, but they’re not. Each procedure has a face, each one a name. I know it’s been a rough couple of weeks for my family and I, but I know it’s probably been rough for the lady and her grandmother as well. We all have different roads, but they’ve all led us here: the waiting room.
Hours pass, and my Dad and I are still waiting. Despite the fact that this place seems like a well-oiled machine there are several set backs before my mom’s surgery can begin. We get the message a little after 2:00. My mom is in surgery and now we wait again, but this time for the healing to begin.
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