Design a site like this with
Get started


Lady in waiting (room)

Waiting rooms are a special kind of hell. Sitting here 4 hours now, trying to endure the hospital system, sat meekly waiting, as staff breeze by carrying clipboards and doors indeterminably slam.. with that wheezing air push that heavy hospital doors do. Old man sat next to me muttering under his breath giving out, very now and then emitting loud snorts. Father and son sat resignedly across from me, the poor dad looks in serious pain, hands crossed on his lap, eyes closed, wincing when a door slams. I make the momentous decision to leave my plastic seat and venture over to the glass window. I ask might they know how much longer I’d be waiting – the two ladies wedged into the small reception box looked up and explain, oh there’s a clinic here first, did they not tell you, that’s finished now so you should be seen soon. What, may I ask, does ‘soon’ actually mean? Here is a purgatorial polished floor hell. Around me are crossed legs, faces behind phones, slumped shoulders in other plastic chairs. It starts to rain, the stops, then starts again. This morning, at my GP I hear her say the words, ‘ I want you to pop into Limerick to see the eye specialists there, just to make sure’’, yes to make sure my eyes are ok and to allow my soul to slowly die in the waiting room, like a party balloon sellotaped to the wall, slowly shrivelling up a little more each day as the air leaves it.. but it doesn’t matter now, I’m here now with my red sore weepy eyes, blinking under the fluorescent lights, like a reluctant vampire who wishes they could go home to their dark cave. Only a few more hours to go. I’m in waiting room hell.

Lady in waiting (room)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: