Waiting

I packed my bag the night before--chapstick, an easy read, a few dollars, insurance card, and of course a flannel baby blanket to crochet while waiting. I packed it all into my homemade-by-my- Mom quilted bag. The hospital takes care of the patient but support people take care of themselves. I dress in layers, you never know if it will be too hot or too cold. I set my alarm early and awaken wondering if I really slept. Hurry up, Hurry up. Drive.
Check in. Hurry, wait...
What time is it? Oh, I almost forgot, time as we know it has ceased to exist. Double check with the patient to see if I can do anything for them. The patient this time, dressed in a periwinkle gown and white hose, isn't crying, throwing up, or resisting being poked, whew, that makes my job easier. I try a joke, "when you wear a dress you need to keep your knees together". Something I've said many times just never to this family member. Wait, wait, wait.
Wheeled away before I can say good-bye.
Now, the hard part, waiting.
First, I double the estimate of the surgery and promise myself that I will not worry until that time. I settle into a chair in the waiting room. Wait, wait.
I remind myself that during this time I will not be visiting the subjects of: infection, malpractice, insurance benefits, major life changes, fairness, how many times I have sat in a room like this, or any other similar or discouraging subject. Visit the hospitality cart, wonder what the expiration date was on the muffins, try one. Wait.
Get myself a drink.
Call home. Wait. wait.
Try to ignore the phones ringing, appointments being scheduled, and especially the surgeons telling others that their patient is done. Crochet and wait, crochet and wait, crochet and wait.
Hum, interesting conversation: Deseret Gym did what? The Boys swam in the nude during the '50's? Really? Intrude into conversation with harmless looking older men. Listen to them talk about the polio scare of their boyhood and their great grandmother who crossed the plains with the first handcart pioneers and lived long enough travel to Florida by airplane and how frustrating it is to miss a temple assignment and just sit and wait for his patient to have her surgery and he was the batisimal supervisor and he thought he was going to be able to do his shift but the hospital kept calling back and changing the time and then he'd have to call his coordinator, again... and I hope he didn't mention how inconvenienced he was to his patient.
Wait, wait...
It is almost time to start worrying. Wait, wait.
" Stanford?"
"Yes, that's me."
"Follow me to the conference room "
( That means he wants to talk privately. I'm used to it..."it was a difficult surgery, her muscles are like sewing wood instead of silk--I don't know how she will heal"..." It was a difficult surgery we did everything we knew how to do and still couldn't get her hips back in"..."It was a difficult surgery and we didn't get as much correction as we wanted to.")
"Everything is fine, It wasn't the easiest gallbladder to remove. He was quite inflamed and he had a huge stone that was about this big. (visualize pointer finger to thumb) Just wait for about 45 minutes more and then you can meet him at his room." I breathe a sigh of relief and go out to wait some more.