Friday 6 December 2013

The Wait


Beep. Beep. For once in my life I was comforted by the annoying sounds of heart monitors in the halls. Taking in a deep breath of the stagnant air, I studied the way my worn-down sneakers looked in contrast with the bleach-white linoleum floor. Though nurses and doctors frantically buzzed around the hospital with squeaking shoes and spoke in hushed tones, there was an uncomfortable silence that embraced the waiting room. Almost 2 o’clock in the morning, half the lights in the corridor were shut off and the remaining buzzed in a way that could be undermined if there was anything else to pay attention to. The few unfamiliar faces sitting in the chairs around me were mostly etched with angst or sorrow. The man sitting across from me seemed too content reading his newspaper. His head was adorned with salt and pepper hair, and laugh lines sat playfully on his forehead. He'd been here for less than forty minutes and I envied his calm demeanor. At least I wasn't a complete wreck, merely the shell of a human. The only thing I'd done for the past three hours was sit, and observe. I guess it's true that time seems to slow when you're waiting; the second hand of the clock was ticking unbearably slow. An aching in my back had intensified from slouching in the cold plastic chairs while I drifted in and out of thought. I was still finding it difficult to embrace the harsh reality in front of me; my dad had been in a car accident. My hero, the man that I'd always thought was invincible was unconscious and attached to multiple electronic machines just down the hall. Under critical condition and frightfully close to death, I could hear his heart monitor beating steadily. Enough to ease the helplessness that I’d felt for him, I knew it still wasn’t enough to ensure that he would be okay. Refusing to move unless a nurse would invite me in to see him, I let my heavy eyelids flutter closed and felt the weight of my chest rise and fall with each breath. I listened to the only sound that I had been able to find comfort in as I drifted to sleep that night. Beep. Beep.

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