Pausing in the ER

Not sure what I want to post today.

Actually, I was catching up on reading responses to my lurker post Friday. You see, I posted it, started to work a bit, and then I had to go to the ER (not me, accompanying a co-worker). You see, when you are part of the "support staff," you sort of have to do some strange things sometimes.

So I spent Friday in the waiting area of the ER for several hours, mostly by myself. I mean, I was not going to be in one of the rooms with the co-worker (not wanting to hear doctor stuff, because it is personal, just don't want the co-worker to die at work).

She is fine – by the way – but they did all kinds of tests on her. While she was being poked and prodded, put on machines, etc., I started reading magazines, and when I was a bit tired, I started looking around the waiting area, and people-watching was immensely more interesting than reading month-old magazines.

The first couple I saw was so sweet. The guy was a mechanic, judging from his oil and grease-stained uniform. Name-tag on the uniform said "Joe." His fingers were large, and I noticed them after the woman handed him her small diamond earrings. She must have been 19-years-old; fresh face, skinny, pretty. He held her close, as she was scared. Over time, I think she was waiting for Radiology, and me being the inquisitive type, I was wondering what was going on. Was she waiting to get an ultrasound because these love-birds were expecting their first child? Maybe they were worried about something. He seemed so loving – such a rugged guy, and it warmed my heart to see him care so tenderly for her. Young love at Christmastime, what a wonderful thing.

I saw two small children, both sick. Both had mothers who were waiting patiently. Children both looked small, like they did not feel good at all. You can tell when kids feel absolutely awful, where they are just hurting. That's how these children felt. I have heard that some people use the ER as their primary way to get healthcare, and I don't think that's what was going on here. The kids looked really sick, and both were whisked away quickly.

There was an indigent gentleman, with an old rag-wrapped hand. Not sure what happened, but I imagined he accidentally put his hand through a window. It took the heath care providers a couple of hours to get to him. He was patient, quiet, and no one would sit near him. He did smell, but I suppose if you lived on the streets, I guess you would smell, too.

I guess that day gave me time to pause. Christmas is so rush-rush-rush, that I don't sometimes take time to pause. As I was watching the people in the ER, I prayed for them. Guess I didn't have anything better to do – People magazine looses its luster when the news is one or two months old.

I was chit-chatting with some people in the waiting area, and one woman (daughter had a high fever) said before her daughter was real sick, she was home with her watching old Christmas movies.

Now I am not sure I would want a sick child to give me an excuse to pause, but it is nice to just curl up on the couch with a stack of old Christmas favorites and laugh and cry to the old movies. Or to sip tea and watch snow. Well, no snow where I am, but you get the idea.

Back to the hustle and bustle.