As more people enter our waiting room, groups begin to seat themselves according to body heat. There are 5 people who are cold and are bundled up in sweaters and boots. They sit on the left side of the room, far from the door. Straight across from the cool dudes are six people in various forms of undress. Each one has a magazine they are using for a fan. One young woman has a wet washcloth in her hand; to absorb the sweat running down her neck. She looks embarrassed.
Soon a middle aged lady, wearing a black dress, stumbled in the open doorway. Immediately all eyes were on her. All other patients are forgotten. The lady in black has center stage for the next few minutes. She is disheveled, appearing to have dressed in the dark. She is wearing a long black dress, black leggings, and black felt house shoes. Her hair is long, bushy and died black. A comb could not penetrate this mane. She is in pain and could care less how she looks. Slower than before and limping, she walks to the office window to sign in. That isn't enough help for her. She wants to talk to the receptionist and she wants to talk now. Quickly she pulls a chair over to the closed window and camps out. She isn't going anywhere until someone behind the glass talks to her...good luck with that. Her persistence pays off and the window opens. She explains her plight. Her speech is loud and at times profane. The lady apologizes and keeps cursing as she talks. She has a husky, whisky voice...the female version of Sam Elliott's million of dollar vocal cords. I don't think this voice has made her a dime but it is still captivating to hear. She apparently fell last night and she is afraid she broke her foot or her back or both. The receptionist wanted to know why she didn't go to the hospital last night. The question outrages the woman. We all wondered the same thing. She snapped, ' I had no car and could not afford a taxi'. Her neighbor brought her to the hospital today. The lady began to cry. I am sure this is completely out of character for her. This lady is tough and not a crier; she is also exhausted and backed into a corner. Whatever is wrong with her, she cannot fix. She needs help and would rather bite her tongue off than ask. Amid quite tears she asks for that help. She needs to see a doctor as soon as possible. Within minutes she is in a wheel chair and on her way to see a doctor. I am pretty sure the lady took my appointment. I sigh knowing she needs it more than me. I get up and go to the bathroom when I return the next person to possibly take my appointment has arrived.
All the seats are full except for one. I take it and say good morning to the elderly lady and her nurses aide who arrived while I was gone. Some people attract the opposite sex, some people have a way with children, others with animals. Me??? I attract the insane. The little lady sitting next to me fit the mental image perfectly. I had no intention of wading through her quagmire . I smiled and spoke as I sat down. That was all the little lady needed. She took it from there.
"You know I am here because of my vagina, right?" She whispered loud enough for the whole room to hear. For the next twenty minutes, all eyes were on us.
"No, I didn't know that. hmmmm I'm sorry". That was my best shot. I glanced at her attendant and she gave me one of those 'lady you are on your own' looks. I remember those looks well. When I had to transport patients I longed for people to just leave us alone.
I picked up my book in an attempt to end the conversation before it started. It did not work. The lady looked at me. I pretended to read. She continued looking and finally cleared her throat. I didn't know what was coming but I knew I was on train ride waiting for a wreck somewhere down the line.
In her best Sophie Tucker voice, the little woman began to talk to her vagina. Words fail me here.
I don't care how long a person has worked with the mentally ill, the last thing any aide wants is for patients to have a conversation with their private parts in public. She went on to elaborate, "Ralph stuck a pencil in her and now he wants his pencil back and I can't find it!"
All eyes looked at the attendant. She shrugged and said, "It didn't happen on our shift." If ever there was a stand by rule it was..."It didn't happen on our shift." The attendant and I could not talk about this lady. It would be a violation of about 150 laws and rules so we just exchanged knowing nods.
I wondered why she wasn't at the emergency room. After I thought it over I remembered the dual lives the sane and insane live; just because a patient says something does not mean it is always true. The same rule goes for everyone else in the world. Whatever the reason for the old lady and the aide to be here today was none of my business. My name was called next and another attendant came to get me. I told my new friend good bye and that I hoped she felt better soon. She smiled and quickly kissed my hand. The aide made a move to stop her but it was over so fast it wasn't worth the ruckus. It would be reported though when they arrived at their facility. As I walked toward my MRI room, I couldn't help but wonder what was really wrong with the little lady. Whatever it was I hoped it was nothing serious. And if it was a stupid pencil...it will be taken care of soon. I am also sure last night was the final time my friend and Ralph will ever share anything in this lifetime...one can only hope that is the case. Some images are hard to erase from the mind's eye. I think this might be one of those times.
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