Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: RELAX (06/08/17)
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TITLE: At the Midnight Hour | Previous Challenge Entry
By LINDA GERMAIN
06/15/17 -
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Hour after hour dragged by as I sat with my grown son in the largest surgical waiting room I’ve ever seen. It was a Titanic event for each person dealing with the absence of loved ones who had disappeared behind those mysterious doors, woozy and trusting they would return.
“Smithe family,” the female voice announced, “please come to the desk. The doctor will talk with you now.”
Over and over she made the same statement, except for name changes. We waited. We prayed. She did not call us.
A color-coded list on the wall indicated the point each surgical patient had reached. The blue on the twenty-five or so operating rooms trumped all the others for a few hours. One by one the blue was replaced with an olive green that told the family the patient was in recovery. Eventually, it would show they were admitted to a room.
We took walks, got coffee and water, called Grandma with updates (since it was her son in surgery), and waited some more. After seven tedious hours, the strips of blue had dwindled down to three.
“Maybe your dad is trying to win a prize for being the last one,” I quipped as my usually calm young man began to reflect the tension he was feeling.
“Why don’t they call us?”
Family after family could be seen in clusters as surgeons gave good or not-so-good reports and prognoses.
As darkness replaced daylight, the place began to empty out. By eleven that night, there we sat--the only two left.
One blue strip remained on the board with the now familiar number.
I could think of only one comment. “I guess he won.”
I had never seen that desperate concern on my dear one’s face. All day, I had been reassuring him that his father was going to be fine, but now my heart was crying out to the Lord for a quick end to the intense drama.
When the strain was nearly unbearable, suddenly the double doors opened and out strode the very weary doctor who had performed miracles with the amazing assistance of a robot.
As tired as he was, he smiled and gave us that thumbs up we needed.
“You can relax now. He’s okay.”
The immediate relief was better than being scooped up by a rescue boat when your ship sinks, and there’s nowhere to go except down.
We shook hands and thanked him with inadequate words for his incredible expertise and ability given to him by our Creator. One of us even hugged him.
Finally, at midnight, we were allowed to see our long-absent patient right after he was transported to his room and settled in with monitors and drainage tubes and other medical necessities.
He slowly opened swollen, slightly confused eyes and croaked out words from a throat that had been intubated for eight long hours, “Have they done the surgery yet?”
My dear son and I looked at each other and could not help but giggle a little, and as quietly as possible, as we shook our heads and exchanged an exhausted hug.
All tension was gone. We could exhale now. Prayers had been answered.
Thank you, Lord!
_____
*True events only a few days ago
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Your writing caught my attention and held it throughout.