THE WAITING ROOM

         

THE WAITING ROOM



Walking into the room, my eyes were drawn to the brightly coloured walls and furniture. It had the feel of a children's waiting room. As we walked through I half expected to see a table with colouring books, and stacking blocks. Was this designed to give a feeling of cheerful optimism? If so, it wasn't having the desired effect.

Tom squeezed my hand and smiled. Maybe we were both thinking the same thing. We found a couple of seats "Do you want a coffee, Love? " Tom asked, his usually happy face looking tired and strained. I nodded.

As he left I took a deep breath and looked around. There was nothing unusual, just a group of women and family members in a waiting room. How many times have I sat in similar rooms? But never with this overwhelming feeling of fear. I was quite sure it was a feeling that united all its occupants.

I went to the desk to give my details. The receptionist turned towards me. I smiled, as I was sure I recognised her, but couldn't put a name to the face. She took my form but made no acknowledgement, just gave me a professional smile. Did she know something I didn't? Was she feeling sorry for me?

Tom was back with the coffee. As I took the hot drink I asked him if he recognised the lady at the desk. He glanced over "Not sure, Love. Why"? I just shrugged. I didn't want to explain my irrational thoughts. She didn't remember me. It was as simple as that. Was this the way my life was going to be? Imagining people crossing over in the street, or seeing pity in the eyes of everyone I met.

I sipped my coffee. The pretty young woman sitting opposite was smiling and chatting to her little girl. Her husband had his arm around her shoulder. They looked like any other young family. I wondered how she could look so happy and calm, and then she turned towards me, and I recognised the look in her eyes, the same anxious look I could see every time I looked in the mirror.

A nurse came into the room and called out,"Catherine Thompson". A small lady in her late fifties stood up. She had that same haunted look. The young woman with her gave her a reassuring hug. They followed the nurse. I felt the panic rising in my stomach, as I knew it would soon be me following the nurse, and the cheerful bright walls, and smiling reassuring people, wouldn't alter anything. How would Tom and the girls cope? I took another deep breath and tried to concentrate on the magazine I had on my knee, but the words were just a blurred jumble.

The door opened, and an elderly couple walked in. The man had a walking stick and struggled to get to a seat. They appeared to be in their late seventies. I was shocked to think a lady of this age was going through all this, but then age is no barrier to this disease. As they checked in with the lady at the desk, I could hear them laughing, maybe with age we come to accept what life has to throw at us.

Tom was talking to me but I wasn't listening. I was watching as Catherine Thompson and the young women I assumed was her daughter, passed me to go back to their seats. Catherine looked red eyed and pale. Her daughter was trying to comfort her, but looked just as upset as her mum. They looked very similar with round, chubby faces, and dark, curly hair, jolly faces under different circumstances.

The nurse was back, this time it was the young woman sitting opposite who was called, She leaned over to give her husband and daughter a kiss, before she stood up to follow the nurse. As she walked away I thought, surely life couldn't be so cruel to leave someone so young without a mother. What was I thinking? This room was turning me into a pessimistic wreck.

I looked at the letter in my hand. Going over and over the words.' Following your recent Mammogram, you are requested to attend the clinic for further tests. Try not to worry as in the majority of recalls, everything is fine'. The words were quite positive, but panic was taking over, telling me I could be one of the not so fortunate.

Tom was reading the newspaper. I looked at his face. Was I imagining the extra lines and dark circles? He turned and smiled. I smiled back. We were doing a lot of smiling lately. It was our way of saying, don't worry it's going to be ok.

As I picked up the magazine and flicked through the pages, I realised we had been waiting quite a while. That was ok, waiting was good. While we waited I could still be one of the lucky ones. I could go home and tell the girls I was fine, and life could go on as normal. All that could change once the wait was over.

The little girl jumped up off her seat as she saw her mum enter the room. She ran over to her and I could see the real happiness, and relief, in the young woman's face. I was glad she had received good news. As she reached her husband, she seemed keen to quietly leave the room, as though she felt guilty being happy, when she knew some of us wouldn't be so lucky.

The nurse returned. I knew this was it, my life could change forever in the next few minutes. As she called my name I felt Tom's arm on mine helping me up. We looked at each other, this time no smiles, just a terrifying acceptance of what lay ahead.

We followed the nurse, and left the bright cheerful waiting room behind.





         

3