Waiting Room Notes

As I was sitting today in a waiting room in our local regional health centre (nothing serious), I realized that an old work acquaintance was sitting a few seats over. We got into a casual conversation - catching up on what’s been happening since we last saw each other. It made me aware, reluctantly, of my age and the realities of this stage of life I’ve found myself in.

Yes, the weather this summer has finally become summer weather. Spring was too cold; that last winter was brutal. The smoke from the wildfires is oppressive and worrisome; all the climate change deniers should be having second thoughts, right? The United States is in a mess. Can’t eat the lettuce down there, I hear. What are you supposed to do when your neighbours go over the deep end? Draw the curtains?

People who used to travel all the time aren’t doing it as much anymore. It’s not just The States; the whole world has gotten scarier, and anyway it’s not much fun to struggle through airport security in a wheelchair. Far more enjoyable to sit at home and avoid all the hassle and expense. Watch some old familiar tv shows in the comfort of your easy chair.

There aren’t as many people wearing masks as there were during COVID. Not that there haven’t been public health scares since; people just haven’t taken them seriously. Maybe that’s why this hospital is so busy. Everytime you look at the obituaries someone else you know is gone; did you hear about Matt? Charles? Maryanne? Seems like someone you know checkd out every week. When you’ve lived this long, what else would you expect. Oh well.

We'll, we’re still here and walking around, in a manner of speaking. Can’t always remember why you came to be where you are, but at least you are somewhere. Like here in the hospital waiting room.

Very professional, bright-eyed young people appear from swinging doors to usher one patient at a time into the labyrinth hidden beyond. “Hello, Jack? How are we today? Come along with me, we’ll have you in and out in a jiffy!” Business as usual; no desperation here. Just an endless shuffling parade of people with tired expressions full of resignation. How can these health workers stay so cheerful? Can’t they see the writing on the wall! But maybe they can see it, and they are just doing what they need to in order to do their jobs?

We all keep doing what we have to do, same as we always have. It’s important to hold onto that until you can’t do it anymore.

Amen