Lessons from the Waiting Room

This week my husband had to have a procedure that required a few hours in the cardiac wing in one of the huge medical centers in our city.  Hospitals are not my favorite places.  No matter the reason for being there, they make me feel anxious and edgy.  I try to concentrate on a book or scan my phone or read all the signs posted on the walls, but mostly I just want to be out of there from the minute we arrive.  Nothing goes quickly in hospitals, especially these days when they are short staffed and overloaded. Needless to say, I am a terrible waiting room waiter. 

Cardiac wings tend to have a lot of older patients, and thus, older people sitting in the waiting rooms.  Myself excluded, of course, because I am in denial about being labeled “older”.  On this particular day, one of those waiting was a 90-year-old gentleman who decided to be my friend.  He had driven himself 150 miles to get some blood work done and was planning to drive himself back 150 miles to get home.  He was incredibly mentally sharp and clearly just loved visiting. He reminded me a lot of my dad, the eternal extrovert who could drum up a conversation with anyone. This lovely man mostly talked the entire time while I just nodded or briefly commented.  He shared with me that being 90, he had outlived most of his family and friends.  He had had a twin sister who had passed a number of years ago.  He mentioned that last Sunday was his birthday and he wished his sister had been there because he bought himself a big cake and ended up taking pieces around his neighborhood due to the fact that he couldn’t begin to eat it all.  He was so upbeat and positive, which may be why he was still doing so well at 90.  Listening to him made the waiting room stay so much less painful.  He inspired me to count my blessings and find something to be grateful for in every day.

Not long after my new friend left the waiting area, another gentleman took his place.  His wife was having some stents inserted in her heart.  He was worried about her.  He couldn’t imagine life without her.  They had been married 50 years.  He shared a story about a friend of his who had died of a heart attack, was gone for nearly an hour and a half, but somehow was revived and came back to life.  This man gave his testimony at the United Nations about how miracles still happen. 

Somehow God must have known that I needed some companionship and inspiration while I sat in that waiting room because he put two people in my path that reminded me that life is worth celebrating and perspective is everything.  Older folks have so much wisdom to share and we often don’t spend enough time listening and learning from all their years of experience.  Some of the best conversations I had with my parents were when they knew their time was short and they wanted to share about the past and how it had shaped them.  If you know some “seasoned saints”, take the time to visit them.  Check in on them.  A lot of them are lonely.  Let them talk about anything they want to talk about.  You could very well glean nuggets of wisdom in those conversations. 

As for waiting rooms, I will never learn to like them.  But just maybe they will turn out to be places of connection with people if I let them.  Everyone has a story to tell, and if they are long enough, they help pass the time and calm my anxious waiting.  I’ll soon be spending another day in a waiting room as my husband is scheduled for another much longer cardiac procedure.  Maybe there will be a new friend waiting with me.