Ever sit in a cafeteria, in a hospital and wonder, who all the people are, and why are they here?
The two young doctors eating lunch together, who managed to unknowingly coordinate a matching outfit of camel chinos, brown shoes and belts, and light blue shirts.
Table of four mature aged siblings, chatting over a coffee, perhaps here supporting a parent? Maybe it’s another sibling?
Young girl in dark blue scrubs with her shoe scuffs and hair net still on. I’m wondering if she was in the theatre?
Middle aged tradie, munching on a sandwich and swiping at his phone… working nearby, or visiting? Who knows.
Young Asian doctor, eating his home made dumplings, and sipping his water from his flask. I imagine he’s here every day… taking his break from the operating floor, or ward where he walks the green and blue lines down corridors.
A wheelchair bound patient and a friend, catching up, chatting about anything but the reason for being here? Maybe trying to find a solution or cure to their ailments.
Cuddles around a table, and offers of hand blown kisses as they all depart the room; tears on the brink and nerves obvious and loud.
It’s a hive of activity. It’s sad. It’s happy. It’s stressed, and it’s anxious.
Phones on ears and mumbling mouths of concern and laughs, while the cafeteria staff go about their day clearing tables and making coffee.
I guess it doesn’t matter about why, or how. It matters that it’s here. A reprieve from the wards. A place to stop and take stock of now, in the moment.
Like I am.
My husband three floors above me, resting after surgery to remove his pesky appendix. The useless organ we all have but don’t need.
My concern is real. Shit does go wrong, even in simple procedures like this. It still can.
His pale. tired hand around mine earlier. Clinging. Drugs now numbing his sensations and making him drowsy, feeling little pain now from the tiny penetrating wounds in his stomach. Hardly seems right the pain versus the wound size.
Didn’t take a lot for me to wind up here, blogging, grounding myself, pulling my universe back in to me. He is my world, there’s no doubting that. I’ve never doubted that. And he’s not going anywhere.