Waiting on News from the Hospital

There are many types of phone calls I dread receiving. This Valentine’s Day, I got one which ranks among the top calls I’d rather not get.

After taking my wife out to dinner at her favorite Italian place, my cell rang. The person calling knew it was Valentine’s Day and we’d be out for the night, so right away it was obvious something was wrong. When the voice on the other ended sounded frantic, I knew something was VERY wrong. Unfortunately, a loved one was admitted to the emergency room with extreme internal abdomen pain, but with no outward symptoms.

I think ER staff is trained to triage in their first college course. What really messes up their groove is when someone walks in with a mystery pain and not bleeding from anywhere. No broken bones? No blood? No sickness? No chest pain? Their diagnosis might as well be a big question mark on a chart with a recommendation for transfer to any other floor with an open bed.

On a good note, luckily, the family member in agony did not have to remain in the waiting room too long; it was practically empty. Apparently it was too cold outside that night for people to be out doing anything stupid and going to the emergency room.

This is where the tough part begins though – the waiting for any type of news from the hospital staff. When a patient’s pain is not easily diagnosed, a string of doctors, nurses and specialists run a myriad of tests. Each professional has their own schedule and each test’s results take time to read, all accumulating to an eternity of waiting for an answer and next course of action.

In my case, I was not able to be bedside, so to deal with the waiting and stress I had to preoccupy myself. Since I was worn out from worrying so much, the first thing I did was sleep for 12 hours. Upon waking, I then

• Cleaned the kitchen


• Alphabetized a DVD collection


• Moved archived files onto a new computer


• Installed 6 pieces of software


• Cleaned my porch


• Brushed a very large dog who sheds excessively


• Ate almost all the ice cream in the house

By this time, I finally got another phone call to the effect of “they still don’t know what’s wrong; they’re calling in two surgeons.”

When hearing news of multiple surgeons opening up a loved one, many people have different reactions. Some may cry, others may pray, me – well, I was hungry for more ice cream.

At this point, the situation reminds me of taking apart a car’s entire engine to find out what the squeak is under the hood. I just hope when the mechanics all get in there they find the source of the problem.

…and I’m still waiting for another call from the hospital…