Hospitals Are Not Community Theaters. Who’d’ve thunk it?

I hate waiting. Something about my can-do attitude makes it impossible for me to just sit still and wait. I think it’s part of the reason I was a theatre major. Every problem that arose was a problem that had to be — and was able to be — fixed instantaneously. There is no “waiting around” in theatre. I’m realizing today that the hospital doesn’t operate like a community theatre.

Perhaps that’s a good thing. (If my mother’s anesthesiologist suddenly broke out in song, I think I would cry).

But it’s hard to wait here. It’s a good thing the surgeons aren’t rushing through the cancer removal surgery. I would rather it take ten years for them to finish the surgery if it meant they were being super careful. But the theatre kid in me wants to hop in the O.R. and get the surgery done lickety-split myself. I don’t like not being able to do anything about the situation at hand. Call me a control freak, I’ll take it.

So here I am, sitting in the hospital waiting room listening to the automatic revolving door go round and round and round again praying for the moment when my mom gets to leave the hospital officially cancer free.

Although there’s no song or dance to keep me occupied, the TV beside me playing reruns of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. feels like momma whispering that it’ll all be okay. I know that I’ll be curled up with her watching these same reruns on our TV back home in no time.

-The Cowgirl