Three round tables with four chairs to each table were scattered in the middle of the room. Two vending machines were stuck in a corner, almost as an after thought. One machine contained sodas, the other filled with cookies, chips and candy. Several trash baskets were overfilled with cans and cellophane paper. Cookie crumbs sought refuge under various chairs and on top of the table. The trash would always pile up faster than the cleaning crew could control. The families visiting this room had more stressful issues to contend with than crumbs and cookie wrappers. Very few people cleaned up their messes. Their minds were elsewhere.
The waiting room had one window facing east. Blue and grey chairs were lined along the wall with the occasional end table thrown into the mix. Whoever designed this room did not want people to spend any length of time in there. The area gave off and inhospitable aura. Strange since the people who used this room were dealing with life and death situations...comfort would have been a nice touch. Instead the room made me feel like I was in the way. I sighed when I scanned the surroundings, seeing nothing inviting or comfortable. I knew I would not be getting much rest tonight. I cleaned up the mess on the tables and rearranged the chairs, trying to fix a bed for me to sleep on. I flipped off the lights, hoping to find sleep.
A little after four in the morning, the lights flipped on and in rushed a family one step away from hysterics. Three, four then six or eight family members tried to sit down only to jump back up and start talking or crying all at the same time. There was no mistaking their accents. The family members were from Boston. Two of the women had on "Boston Strong" t shirts and shorts. Soon they would be freezing. Suddenly everyone left the room except the father. They were trying to find a doctor or nurse to give them an update on his son.
I sat up in my corner of the room and wished with all my heart I was invisible. I slowly gathered up my belongings with the intention of making a fast exit. The father was sitting in the middle of the room, crying. I told him I was sorry for their tragedy. I also said I would be gone in a minute. He thanked me and told me not to leave. He apologized for the burst of noise and his family. I told him that was nonsense. He began to cry again saying his "eighteen year old son was t-boned about 30 minutes ago. They think his neck is broken. It is doubtful he will ever walk again. He just graduated from high school." He was supposed to go to college on a football scholarship. I shook my head and told him I was sorry. Soon his family came back. It was too early for any answers. Once again they were back to 'hurry up and wait.' I knew the feeling.
I asked them if they would like some coffee. Everyone said 'yes' in unison. I had no clue where to get coffee, but it gave me something to do. I started out the door and the man's wife and daughter accompanied me. I hoped the nurses station would have coffee for us. They didn't but one little nurse said, "We don't drink coffee but I could try and make you some." I was surprised that none of them drank coffee. I looked around and saw Mt. Dew bottles everywhere. If a night shift worker doesn't drink coffee then Mt. Dew is the next best eye opener. I told her that would be fine. She was right...she had no clue how to make coffee. We took cups back with us for everyone. After we took a drink, we all groaned or coughed. It was like drinking toxic mud. None of us finished our cups of coffee. It was that bad.
I returned to my corner, waiting while five cellphones rang at various times. Friends and family wanted answers and hope. We talked to each other in spurts of conversation. Then we would withdraw to the uneasy noise in our imaginations. I checked on Lisa. She was in pain and restless. I kissed her nose and left.
We traded tragedy stories but not names. They were Italian and from Boston. I knew both of those things without a word being said. I thought they were down on vacation. It turns out nearly the whole family moved to Naples over thirty years ago. That is why their accents were still so strong. They are family and spend a good portion of their time talking to each other. They never lost their accents...same with Tommy and me.
I left to eat breakfast and chug down a pot of good coffee. When I got back to the room they were gone. I checked on Lisa again and saw that their son was in the cubicle next to her. He was a big husky kid and so vulnerable. I stayed with Lisa for awhile. I went to sleep in the chair beside her. When I woke up Lisa could talk, her color was better. They thought she might be moved to a step down unit on Thursday. When Lisa became sleepy, I kissed her nose again and left the room.
Upon returning to the waiting room, the family were talking about their son needing blood. His blood type is O positive. That is my blood type and I said, "I can give blood. That is my type." Soon there was a buzz as everyone decided to give blood. We all took the elevator and found our way to the lab. We filled out paper work, had our vitals taken and were told that our blood would not go to their son but to the blood bank to replace the blood he was getting. That fact was fine with everyone. We had a mission. Finally, there was something we could do other than cry and worry.
When it came my turn to give blood, the nurse could not find a vein. I was poked everywhere. I have small slippery veins and I was dehydrated badly. Instead of drinking water I had been living off of coffee. I told the family I was sorry. We all gave each other hugs and I left to look at flowers. Lisa would be able to have them in her own room tomorrow. I walked around outside for a little bit. The Florida heat was oppressive as usual. However, today it felt good to me. I had not realized how cold I was until I stepped outside. I wanted to cry for some reason. I didn't but I wanted to.
The next day Lisa was moved to another floor. I could spend time with her. I had a chair that made a bed. Tonight I knew we would both get some rest. Her prognosis was excellent. I made another trip up to check on the 'Boston Strong' family, they were gone. I checked on their son and his room was vacant. I think he may have been in surgery.
I lost track of the family. I hope they are doing fine now. I hope their son lived and can walk. Whatever the outcome they will make it, because they really are 'Boston Strong'. It is so much easier to be strong when life is going smooth and our loved ones are safe. It is a whole other ballgame when the floor of your world disintegrates under your feet, leaving a vacuum of fear for a safety net.
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