A Day in the Surgery Waiting Room

I recently spent a day - well, a morning - in a surgery waiting room at a local hospital. I half expected to see people pacing back and forth, chain smoking and making themselves even more jittery by drinking too much coffee. Boy, is that image out of date!

First of all, there’s no smoking inside public buildings in this state, so if they wanted to smoke, they had to go outside. Good, the rest of us could breath. Secondly, the hospital did provide coffee, but it was just regular or decaffeinated - nothing fancy - and I don’t think I saw anybody do more than sip it. It was almost as if they took it because it was there, it was offered, but they didn’t know what to do with it after they got it. Or maybe it was something to occupy their hands.

And lastly, nobody paced. I don’t think anybody had the energy, since they had to be there at 6 AM, meaning they probably got up no later than 5 AM. I saw lots of yawns, lots of closed eyes and heads canted to the side. I even heard a couple snores.

I was tired myself, and it was hard to concentrate on the story I had brought along to entertain myself. I found myself wondering about the people around me, about the way they dealt with their worry, nerves and concern. I people watched, trying to analyze their method of dealing.

Some came in family groups of 5 or 6, and perched in the chairs like a flock of birds, chattering away about highly important stuff, like how long it took them to reach the hospital from ... whereever they had been. Was this normal conversation for them? Did they ever delve into subjects of more substance, and this day’s stress made them resort to a long discussion of such fluff in an effort to keep their minds occupied? Or were such subjects the stuff their lives were made of?

Another such group planted themselves in front of the monitor that displayed which patient was in pre-op, OR, or recovery, and stared at the monitor as if only their presence and will power could get their loved one through this ordeal. When the nurse came to say that one of them could go in to see the patient in pre-op for a moment before he was taken to the OR, they debated among themselves for long moments before deciding the let the spouse go in.

Others consisted of a pair, usually a spouse and grown child of the patient. In these instances, I frequently saw the grown child trying to convince the parent to try his computer, or electronic book, or an app on his new phone ... as if it was the (grown) child’s responsibility to keep the parent from sitting quietly, lest s/he fall into utter despair waiting for her/his spouse to be repaired and returned.

And then there were the single people, probably spouses, sitting alone and occupying themselves as best they could. Some brought a book and at least tried to look like they were reading. Others brought a book but never made any effort to open it. Others stared at the television screen. There were two sets, one set on politics and the other on sports. Not something I would choose to watch, no matter how bored I was.

I hope everybody came out of that room with news at least as good as what I got.