Tomorrow is one of a few hospital visits this year, with another to follow. Both of us are at that age when things start breaking down.
This one will take about three or so hours, and I will be alternately in the waiting room or going for a walk and take in the ‘fresh’ air. It is lucky the day hospital is in the inner suburban area, namely, South Brisbane, and it’s just a stone’s throw from the Southbank parkland, or in the other direction over the Victoria Bridge and into the Brisbane city centre via the Queen Street Mall.
The sojourn will most likely take my mind off the operation, minor as it is, and provide a new perspective and background for my storytelling. Like all writers, I’m constantly searching for new locations.
Or I could just take up residence in the waiting room and make notes, write episodes for any of five stories I have on the go, and drink coffee out of a coffee machine, rather than a sachet and hot water in a polystyrene cup as it is in the larger hospitals.
Or take the time to observe others who may be sweating on a somewhat more agonising result. I’m guessing the eyes are one of the most important parts of our body, and anything to do with them can be very, very serious.
Hence the need to be somewhere else as a distraction. But, this procedure I’m told is not a serious operation and little can go wrong. Of course, the hospital, and the doctor are legally obliged to give you the worst-case scenario, and that is you have a small chance of dying.
To be honest, it would be interesting if I could be an observer, watching the surgeon go about his business. I know that is impossible because there would be nothing worse than having a relative in the groom, especially if something went wrong.
I mean, fathers are quite often allowed into the delivery room when a baby is being born, more often dressed to look exactly like a brain surgeon about to operate, but that too is dependent on how the delivery is going. Been there and done that a few times.
Been to my own operations too, but sadly I usually get the anesthetic before I go into theatre. I make it quite clear that the last thing I want is to wake up in the middle of the operation, simply because I don’t want to be asking questions on how it’s going.
So, I’ll be on the outside looking in, worrying, or walking, or working.
Come to think of it, I need a few more photo’s of Brisbane for my Instagram site, and maybe I can do that.
But, whatever I do, I’m hoping it will be enough of a distraction until I get the call to come and pick her up.
It’s probably one of the few calls these days I will answer