Blogfest Day 15 ~ O is for Observations In A Waiting Room

Why does there always seem to be a certain awkward atmosphere in the doctor's waiting room ? Have you noticed that ? Is it the case for all doctors' waiting rooms ? Is it because each person is wondering , what's wrong with the next ?

The waiting room is choc-a-bloc . Quite full . Patients sit in close proximity to one another . Perfect opportunity to study the patients in detail . In the drawn-out silence of this often cold , sterile environment , certain details stand out , like a sore thumb . Especially the hushed tones . Have you ever wondered why people speak extra softly ? The sense of secrecy ? Is it because society dictates that we follow proper etiquette ? Will it help to minimize the severity of a particular ailment that may be lurking ? An assortment of patients await their turn . Some reading magazines . Some snoozing . Time to check out the vital signs of the ailing , seated around me .

There is a senior citizen who actually has Lady Gaga as his ring tone . No seriously . And he appears to have a hotline . His phone beeps every 8 minutes or so . (most probably his child/grandchild's phone that he borrowed …) To my left , a poor slumped infant . Desperately trying to draw oxygen . Nose blocked . Producing a slurping sound instead . Like when you struggle to suck up the dregs from a Wimpy milkshake , through a straw , and it's blocked . Slurp! Slurp! Slurp! Shame , should nebulize the poor thing . A toddler playing in the corner , carrying the remnants of a once-well-loved-but-now-battle-scarred-teddy , who has obviously seen better days . Probably been at the mercy of endless tantrum-ridden-toddlers , for far too long ! An elderly gentleman , near the door . Eyes open and close , intermittently … He lets loose the occasional snort …

Amongst this potpourri of patients , a woman with an overbearing perfume . You know the kind that wafts and lingers on the air long after the person has left the room ? And it ain't of the subtle variety . Must be the young lady engrossed in the contents of a glossy magazine . She appears to be the odd one out . Far too calm and collected . Not a care in the world . Unlike the rest of us restless , twitchy patients . A well-dressed young man perched beside the television . Eyes darting around the room . Shiftily … nervously … trying not to lock eyes with other patients … It's simply good sense , I suppose . You just don't know what they might have …

At this point , it's time to indulge the over-fertile imagination , which is ticking like a Rolex . Well actually , that would have to change to ticking like a flea market watch , since I haven't done the Rolex thinggie . It's like a mental game show , "Guess The Ailment!"  Is Mr. Shifty-Eyes involved in something shady and underhand ? The darting eyes – a dead give away ! Probably contracted a socially-related disease from a social connection … Madame Glossy-Mag has a bandage around her ankle . O.K. That doesn't require too much imagination , after all … but wait , on closer inspection , there appears to be a second bandage , around her wrist … mmmmm … that could actually stretch the imagination , quite a bit … Mr. Snort-And-Snooze looks like the grout type . I forgot to mention madame receptionist , merrily filing her nails behind the reception desk . Looks like she needs to see a doctor herself . Probably anaemic combined with some sort of eating disorder . Needs to check it out …

… And at this point , as if on cue , madame Nail-Filer looks at the next card on her desk , looks up at the patients , calls out a name … and my reverie is interrupted …