and, i guess, somehow in our little sterile OR world, i can separate myself from the reality of the pain and fear of the hospital. when i'm holding a tumor, i don't have to think about the terror the patient and family felt as they were told it was cancer or the upcoming chemo treatments they'll face that will take them to the brink of death to save them from going over. or even the complications and challenges in recovery- nausea, pain, confusion, weakness....every little thing is scary and hard. even just having to wear the flimsy hospital gown and losing all modicum of privacy and dignity.
on the floor, all this is apparent. patients are crying and throwing up and yelling. families are either repeating the one hopeful phrase someone tossed their way or they just look...lost.
i can understand why medical shows are so popular. there's no better stage than a hospital to demonstrate human tragedy. and comedy.
i walked past the surgical waiting area on my way out this afternoon. this is where families wait while their loved ones are in the OR. it's just a big area with chairs, a TV, and a reception desk in a hallway with a little room to the side where surgeons take the family when the surgery is over, to tell them how things went and what they can expect. the faces of those waiting vary in this room. there's everyone from the husband of the woman getting breast augmentation who's beaming in the corner in his own private triumph to the little old lady whose husband is in the middle of a coronary bypass graft sitting wondering if she could survive as a widow. occasionally you'll see families holding hands and praying. some do suduku or sleep. some pace clinging to a venti starbucks drink.
today as i passed, i saw a huge group of the waiters huddled around the one TV. i was certain another national bank had bit the dust or some other big news, but when i got closer, i saw that they were all watching a high speed car chase and that the police were just apprehending the crazy driver out from the driver's side of a truck.
i couldn't help but be amused. here i was, observing the drama unfolding in the waiting room while they were finding apparent distraction and possible comfort in watching the mess on the screen- the tiny self-destructive driver on the small screen being manhandled by the angry miniature police in their own tragi-drama. and i assume that the driver then, in turn, spotted a bully picking on a little nerd in a school yard from the back of the paddy wagon on his way to the big house...full circle. like a sad bastard Russian nesting doll.
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