St. Elsewhere

Dear Friends, I haven’t been able to comment on any of your comments. I’ve seen them all, from my phone, though, while I’ve been held up in hospital rooms across the land.

First, the MIDDLER had his surgery. Which, of course is MY FAULT. And before we could even get him out of the building in a wheel chair, I get a message on my pico telofino from my Mother. Her voice was groggy and had a scratch to it: “Oh Sweetheart, that music on your phone is horrible. How’s our boy? And, I’m in the hospital…had a little spell. Don’t worry about me, though. I love you.”

Isn’t that just my Mother? She is infuriating and adorable all at once.

I’m just going to tell you how it ends: They are both fine.

And I couldn’t be more thankful. I’m not exactly the picture of calm in such situations, and so luckily I have sisters and a husband there to constantly reassure my wild and bizarre thoughts that go running amock.

Do you suppose that Dr. is REALLY a Dr? I don’t know if I believe him.

Did that nurse wash her hands between patients? Staff infection is a REAL problem in hospitals, you know.

I’m going straight to the nurses’ desk. It’s been 5 whole seconds since we pushed the button. WHAT are they doing out there?!

I also spent a lot of time waaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttttttttttttttttttttttttttting.To which I put to good use.

And here are my findings.

While waiting for the Middler, my husband and I were led to a special waiting room just for same day surgeries. It was a nice room, with donuts and coffee, and magazines. I had brought a book, but was having a hard time focusing. I ate a donut out of sheer nervousness and then immediately regretted it. There’s two kind of people: those who eat when stressed, and those who can’t eat. I actually find folks who say, “I’ve just been a ball of nerves these past 2 weeks. I’ve lost 30 pounds!”to be highly annoying. I’m really just jealous as I tend to totally pig out in times of trouble.

There was an elevator that people kept popping out of, and every last one of them seemed to be completely befuddled as to how they got there. I amused myself with that little spy job for a while, laughing to myself at their clueless expressions. But then I started looking around at the other waiters. One guy had not stopped talking from the second he got there. He would pace around, and then sit. He sat in FIVE different chairs in the space of 20 minutes. The poor couple that he seemed to zero in on the most were regaled with stories of his favorite birthday cakes he’d had over the last 10 years. They were polite,  but I noticed they kept trying to read their magazines, and did nothing to encourage further conversation. Which, Mr. Walky Talky seemed to be oblivious to.

There was a large man with suspenders that came from the elevator and was headed to one of the chairs. I had a momentary concern he wouldn’t fit, but he squashed himself in. And then, proceeded to stare straight ahead of him, with a menacing look on his face. If I had to caption his living form, it would have read, MAD AT THE WORLD. That, or THIS FRIGGIN CHAIR HURTS MY ARSE AND I MAY NEVER GET OUT! One of the two.

Mr. Mad did unattach his bottom from the chair, and to be fair, seemed to soften considerably at the news that his wife was out of surgery.

Then, there was Miss Coupon Clipper. This woman was probably in her late 50’s, and  was a happy soul. Her cell phone would ring, and she would speak in breathy, excited tones with sprinkles of tinkling laughter. Then she would go back to clipping her coupons and humming under her breath. She caught my eye a few times, and I smiled at her in wonder, thinking she was handling her loved one being in surgery quite well.

I was beating myself up a bit for being such a Nervous Nelly and thinking I needed to take a page from this lady’s book until the nurse came out to say, “So, Gerald is your  husband? They are just taking him down to recovery, and he did great!” To which Miss Coupon replied, “O good gracious NO! (tinkle tinkle laugh)…. He’s my EX…… (tinkle tinkle laugh)…….  Our kids couldn’t come back for this— they live so far away. And, well, I guess he has no one else…. (tinkle tinkle laugh)…..So I got stuck with him! (Bigger tinkle laugh)”

Hospitals are a breeding ground for interesting people. No wonder they’ve made so many tv shows about them. But, I’d have to say, after sitting in a couple of them over the last few days, I’d much rather just watch reruns of ER with George Clooney and the others, whose names I’ve forgotten somehow.