Waiting Room Guest

It's not like I feel I'm in a foreign environment in a hospital.  I know the lay of the land.  I'm in a waiting area and observing. There is enough right before me to fill a lengthy prayer list.  Observing human behavior has always been one of my interests.
Some walk through those front doors like they own the place and others would give anything to be anywhere else.  There are those who would rather not sit next to anyone while waiting. Body language tells many stories.

I can see one dear soul as she gently sits in the chair balancing herself while not using either hand to lower herself in the chair. She is very pale and appears also very weary. We are all in this area waiting for directions, one by one, to move to another area for personal information to be recorded by the hospital before being seen.

At one point an employee is standing behind me calling out a name. I can see this woman I've previously described trying to edge her way to the end of her seat to try to stand. The employee gets louder calling out the name. The woman in the chair is weakly speaking, "I'm here."

Again the employee calls out the name. I turn to the employee and say, "She's right there." As I'm pointing to her.   "She's trying to get out of her chair."

The employee kindly asks, "May I get you a wheelchair?" The woman declined, was able to stand and slowly walk to the woman calling out to her.  She turned to me and whispered, "Thank you, I cannot use my arms to get out of a chair. I had a shoulder replacement and it became infected and they had to do another surgery and then my other shoulder as well."

I smiled at her and said, "I'm so sorry. I'll send up some prayers for you." She nodded in appreciation and slowly went her way. I sat there for a few moments and gave thanks for my healthy joints. And then asked for healing for her and peace to fill her as well.

The remaining crowd stared at me with different expressions.  I turned to my iPhone to check for messages. I tried to isolate myself a little.

You see, I'm an empath. And what that means is I feel another's fear, their anger, their passion, their love, their anxiety when I'm in close approximation to them. It can be a gift and it can be uncomfortable at times. Being a hospice nurse years ago was a challenge.  I would carry so much home with me and often sit in the shower on the floor of the shower as the warm water mingled with my tears. It took me awhile to learn how to be present and not take it all home with me.

We are all, at one time or another, standing with, sitting with, listening over the phone with, our friends or family or someone we remotely know reaching out to us for: a shoulder, an ear, some  comforting words. Years with others as patients or family or loved ones has taught me to be present and not try to "fix it". But instead to truly listen without formulating a reply before they even finish saying what they want me to truly hear. And sometimes they don't want a reply. They want me to just be still and really listen.

That waiting room was so full of so many emotions: fear, anxiety, happiness, joy, ....and I truly believe that waiting room was also full of angels.

WAITING

I have the opportunity to sit in waiting rooms with friends or family from time to time.  Waiting for surgery, doctor appointments, lab work, etc.  Actually, waiting rooms are very interesting places to sit and people watch if you aren't bound up with tension awaiting worrisome test results.

One time I was sitting in a waiting room while a friend was having surgery.  I usually take a book but this particular visit I decided to just observe, be present.

One fellow seemed to have decided to just chew his wait out. He'd retrieved one of those red stir sticks from a 'cup of coffee' center and was walloring it all around his mouth, working his jaws out big time.  His cowboy boots still had some fresh Spring mud mixture on them.  He must have been out in the pasture before bringing his Mom for surgery.  I surmised the elderly gentleman cowboy next to him was his Dad. He sat perfectly still with his weathered hands in his lap. It wasn't hard to see that he was very deep in thought.

A couple of ladies wearing matching sweat suits: one red, one blue, were trying to knit and cross-stitch and embroidery during their lengthy stay. They only glanced up if they were disturbed by more waiting folk crowding into the tight space of metal/vinyl orange chairs or if the voice on the inner com spoke.  I think the one in red was knitting a 12 foot long purple (mixed with pink) scarf.  It went on and on.  The dear one in blue had put her own project in the quilted bag at her feet and helped her friend by holding the fuzzy yarn in her two outstretched hands.  They chatted in hushed tones about people needing prayer in their church.

A family looking unit huddled in a couch area.  Grandpa bounced a six month old on his knee.  Brother put on his earphones and held his Gameboy close.  He made faces twisting his mouth and chewing on his tongue as he was battling no telling what!  Grandma folded her pale chubby, short arms across her ample breasts and glared and frowned at the television overhead. There was one of those wild tell-all talk shows on and they had forgot to censor some of it!

Waiting is tough business.  We are an instant society, automatic, 'hurry-up and do it', nation.  Frozen dinner on TV trays with instant coffee and microwave popcorn are not that uncommon.  We don't want to wait in line at the grocery store or Wal-Mart, the post office, the bank or McDonald's.  We honk our horns if the person in front of us at a changed light is slow to move.  So, naturally we are impatient with hospital sitting as well.

We wait to get an appointment with our doctor, wait to see the doctor when we get there, wait to get the blood tests, or X-rays, to get our prescription filled and then to get our test results, perhaps a surgery date, then another doctor's appointment or paper work filled out before the referred surgeon will see us.  It is just the way it is.  None of the doctors or their employees want us to wait any more than we do.

Years ago one of my chemotherapy patients told me that he'd learned so much from waiting rooms.

"Ya know, Becki, waiting's good for us.  Rushing around is not.  You see, I have been in a hurry for many years, thinking my time was more important than anyone else's.   I was highly insulted if anyone ever made me wait.  Didn't they know how important I was?  Did they realize how high up the ladder I'd climbed in my company? Weren't they aware that I now had my own company?

But, it all ticks by the same.  If you are in charge of folding sheets in a nursing home or owning a nursing home, when it's all said and done, we are the same.  I'm not so all fired up and important anymore.  Look around you.  You think your time is more precious than the homeless man's time in that corner is?

I like that verse in the Bible where it says, "Teach us to number our days." There's wisdom in that.  Too many hurrying for tomorrow when tomorrow may never be ours.  Better enjoy the moments, better take some deep breaths and slow down a mite.  Who are we going to show love to this day?  Who are we going to thank today?

Neighbors don't sit out on the porch like they used to when I was a kid.  Guess these oncology waiting rooms have given me a new perspective.  Waiting has her purpose.  We shouldn't despise her."