>The Waiting Room

Much gratitude to Mom for springing into action at a moment’s notice to help my disabled self! She has baby-sat, given me rides, stopped by the store, picked up prescriptions, and cooked meals for us. Whew!  Today she did double baby-sitting duty at 2 am for Liev and at 10 am for me at the doctor’s office. In anticipation of another painful procedure, I took a full dose of pain meds leaving me feeling groggy. I needed her to drive and take notes on Dr. Rubble’s latest treatment plan.

We were lucky enough to snap up the last two unoccupied seats in a waiting room packed full of miserable looking couples. A half-hour into our wait, we encountered one of Egor’s senior colleagues, Dr. Crowe, who we knew to be a cancer survivor. Walking hunched with a cane, he looked disturbingly bloated. His eyes were yellowish and bulged unhealthily; one was cocked permanently to the far left. I tried not to appear shocked by his condition, but I am a lousy actress. Nevertheless, he chatted amiably with a smooth graciousness that only Christopher Walken should be able to pull off. I admired his affable attitude made a mental note to send him a card.

After another ten minutes passed, our neighbor Mr. D entered with his wife.  She looked very unwell and in considerable pain. Although the couple recognized me, they immediately avoided eye contact. I took the hint and remained silent, but I felt sorry for them, both for being there and for feeling the need to avoid me. Mom and I continued to chat and make jokes, being occasionally joined by Mr. Crowe and his wife. Some of the other patrons smiled at our hilarity. I wondered how many people we annoyed. When they finally called Mr. Crowe, he came over to shake hands with us before he left. What a cool guy.

When it was my turn, Dr. Rubble gave me a thorough inspection and answered my neurotic questions (yes, you can take Ibuprofen, use any brand of Q-tip, and of course, your antibiotic and pain meds are compatible with breastfeeding, etc.). He pronounced me well, reminded me to shower and Q-tip clean and said he’d see me next Friday. On the way out, I gave the lone Mr. D a nod and sympathetic smile, which he grimly returned.

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