
I got parked early at the hospital,which was unusual and headed straight in. The nurses and hospital staff take up most of the spaces.
The further you walk into the belly of the beast, its more a progression of waiting rooms.
The main waiting room, its’s really hard to tell what is wrong with people.
I skipped this as I knew to head straight left at the entrance to elevator. Off at the second floor, across the hall , I walked to the 2nd waiting room. A smaller room with still a large reception area. This was for people who had been diagnosed and were waiting for more specific treatment. It was empty as people hadn’t made it from the first waiting room yet.
I knew the way so I walked through the room and down the corridor out of the other side.
Part way down the corridor was where I waited. There were a few doors and a nurses room with the door left open. The corridor widened and there were a few seats in the middle with several doors either side.
This was where the nurses came in to discuss notes or just to change shifts. The doctors doors were hardly ever opened.
The chairs were cushioned,quite nice for a hospital. I sat in the row with my back to the wall, below the clock.
I could see room 4 opposite. I was waiting for my wife.
At the start of the day there was no-one here. Most would still be in the first waiting room, then the second one.
The first nurse came to the room and glanced at me briefly, then she put on her jacket,picked up a roster and moved down the corridor.
Soon after patients started arrived. The patients in this waiting room definitely looked ill.
Difficulties in movement,a deathly pallor. It was always sad when you saw a child.
As the day went I watched the nurses come and go.
They would chat briefly before moving on, discussing the cases they had or important information as they changed shifts.
When you’re sitting quietly sometimes you hear voices and your’re not sure if you can really hear what people are saying or if you’re imagining it.
– What will we do?
– He’s just sitting.
The nurses continued to whisper,
– He’s always here,
– Just leave him – he’s harmless.
When you’re waiting a long time the door has been closed so long you don’t know if anyone is even in there.
I sat there below the clock, listening to it’s slow tick, waiting.
I looked along the corridor at the floor shining yellow under the fluorescent lights and at the closed wooden doors each one with stories behind them. I looked at door no 4.
A Nurse came over to me and said ” Are you okay Mr Baxter? It’s time to go home now. You can come back tomorrow.”
I got up to leave and the Nurse walked out with me, holding my arm like my wife would. We walked slowly back through the other empty waiting rooms.
She was in room 4.
They put her in room 4.
I’m just waiting for my wife.
That’s quite lovely.
I can almost see the poor man…. waiting.
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She might be there tomorrow…..
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No.
She was there, but died.
He just can’t let go….
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Possibly, sad, waiting for Godot?
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Sad thought…well done.
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A very poignant story. Well done!
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Thank you. He’ll be there again tomorrow.
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Excellent, true to life (and death).
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Thanks. No puns today. 🙂
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No. Not appropriate for such mastery of words.
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Ouch.
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Well written. Waiting is hard, especially if it is endless.
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Thank you. Each day not able to face the reality, is that better than the awful truth?
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