Saturday, June 7, 2014

..Of Waiting and Waiting Rooms...

Sitting out and waiting is always the most difficult thing to do in a hospital. You wait for your turn and in the process you run through thousands of possibilities catering to the extremes. In your head you envisage the whole scene over and over again. You make a note to quietly explain all your observations/ assumptions and those tiny little things. You look at the fellow patients and try to be sympathetic with your stares. You form mental notes about everyone. You notice teeny tiny things and in many ways try to identify with them.
The book the other person is carrying, that "rock band" tshirt, calf muscles etc.. 

Every time the light blinks your heart skips a beat. You look at the patient coming out from the room and wonder about their story. Sitting there, looking at people, the thought of Doctors is enough to give you heebie jeebies. It is really remarkable that you always wanted to become a Doctor. That dream came crashing down towards the end of 11th Standard in the biology class when you were asked to dissect a frog. Another flicker and it snaps you out of your past and you are alert once again. You revisit your "files" and wonder what lies ahead. In your head you are thinking of possibilities. ah, possibilities, such a romantic word. 

You feel odd getting those knowing looks from the fellow patients. They know nothing, you try to convince yourself. In that odd moment you think about the book that you are carrying in your bag. You start reading it but you know that you are too distracted to get to the next page. You tap your feet, you play around with your fingers, you play with your only ring, you look at your watch and you wait! You wait for your turn. The time passes so slowly. Every minute gets exponentially difficult to endure. 

Finally, the light carrying your name flickers and you sprint to get your moment with your doctor. 
Twenty Seconds. Twenty seconds are all that it takes to break the ice. 
Soon enough it is time for you to walk out of the door. You look at people gauging you from your walk. You try to walk tall and proud. From the Doctor's door to the Exit door it is a runway walk for you. In a short while you will locate the drug stores, think about the road ahead. The ordeal is over. For now. There is a sigh of relief. The next appointment is far in to the future.
You pause and turn towards the nearest bar for a Gin and Tonic to soothe your nerves. All very predictable.



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