The Waiting Room

Reality TV is obviously here to stay. But it doesn't come close to the real life dynamics of a hospital waiting room. I didn't really plan on being here today, but surgeons kind of expect you to come to their place when your wife needs a metal plate and two screws to fix her broken ankle after she falls on a slippery walkway.

I've been here before as my wife has had some procedures. Nothing has been life-threatening, so I can sit and watch this live reality show without stress. I realize that there are people who come here going through some major trauma, but today the crowd seems pretty loose.

Don is the gentleman who runs the family waiting room. Each of us has been called to his desk at the front, so he can match family with patients, and keep track of where we're sitting. He's probably seen it all, yet he has a warm personal style. He just called me to come back and see my wife one more time before they start to send her to la-la land. With her all hooked up to the machines I tried to see if I could get her heart rate up with a kiss. I think I got an extra 3 beats per minute. Maybe my lips need some repair while I'm here. They seem to have lost their effectiveness.

There's a husband and wife next to me who are cuddling with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder as they watch the local 24 hour news channel. It seems as if they've turned this event into a date. Doppler weather is no "Bridges Of Madison County", but they seem to be enjoying the show, and each other.

The loud family is here too. Husband, wife, and two teenage daughters. They have one volume. It doesn't matter that they're sitting right next to each other, they talk to each other as Regis talks to Kelly...assuming that while they chat, millions of other people should be listening. A few minutes ago a man asked them a question about something they had said, and they immediately yanked that verbal fishing line and hooked him. He can't get away now. He just gave me the "help me" look, but I'm too busy blogging about him to dive into that no-win situation.

Thelma is next to me with her book and cup of coffee. I don't know what her name is really, but she looks like a "Thelma". I admire people who can be anywhere with their book and feel at home. I remember when I was the public address announcer for the local hockey team, there was a season ticket holder who would read during the games while 10,000 people would cheer on the Solar Bears. She never looked up. Thelma is so still that if she was outside, birds would be landing on her. But I'm not going to fault a reader. It'd be wrong if Thelma was mashing on a Gameboy or setting up her preferences on her new iPhone.

I just used the facilities, but the motion-sensor activated light didn't come on. I asked the first guy who walked by if he knew how I could make it work, only to see that he was a doctor. It'd be like asking Lance Armstrong if he knew how to install tassels on my daughter's handlebars. Turns out the doctor couldn't help me. I resisted the urge to say, "It'd take a brain surgeon to figure this thing out..."

So I wait, and wonder how and what Fran is doing. Arrival time was 5am, surgery set for 7:30, post-op at 9:30, and awake by 11:30. I have wireless internet access though, so I'm all set. As soon as I post this blog, it's back to people watching, and then I might Google "kissing" to learn how I can get my wife's heart out of first gear!