Tuesday, November 29, 2005

The Waiting Game and Embracing the Pooh

Waiting. Our family's doing a lot of it lately. Waiting for phone calls to be returned. Waiting to hear what the docs plan to do next. Waiting to learn whether or not the holidays are a bust.

I don't blame the physicians for the Waiting Game. Not entirely. They've been raised on hospital time. And as anyone who's dealt with hospitals knows, hospital time is not equal to real time.

Hospital time crawls, subject to shift changes, lab tests, emergency surgeries, and an endless stream of patients needing medical attention now. Real time races, caring little about the crosses we bear as we rush from one activity to the next.

Given the differences between the two time realities, it's no surprise the anesthesiologists thought nothing of questioning the test result the day before surgery. A delay in their eyes was necessary in order collect the data they needed.

Doesn't matter that getting appointments for the needed specialists might delay the surgery for weeks or months. What matters, they say, is learning more about this problem and its potential for adversely affecting the success of E's surgery.

Okay. Makes sense. Makes me want to give docs the benefit of the doubt. Makes me want to believe surgery was cancelled because the findings that "came out of left field" required labs and testing that truly couldn't be done prior to going into the OR. Not because someone was worried about catching a flight out for Thanksgiving later that day.

In the meantime, we move through our days, E embracing her inner Pooh, me, channeling every bit of my inner Owl, Eeyore, and Piglet.

For the record, no matter how loudly Pooh's friends complain, I won't let them silence my inner bear. Not completely. During moments of quiet, usually when the girls are at school, and I give myself permission to be still, he speaks. And I listen.

I don't always follow through on his advice, but he doesn't seem to mind. He keeps talking, and offering me honey, and reminding me to take joy.

Thanks to my inner Pooh, the holiday decorations are out, the tree is up, I'm making lists and checking them twice. And I'm writing.

Taking joy one paragraph at a time.


Sharry said...

Kim, I love the thought of having an Inner Pooh--I haven't read the 'Tao of Pooh,' but your musings have added it to my wish list.

April said...

Did Pooh get an upset stomach from too much honey? I've found that something salted enhances the flavor of sweetness. Even though Doctors say, "Limit the amount of salt intake in our lives," they like to dish it out. I hope the sweetness to come is so flavorful that your cheeks pucker in delight. My thoughts are with you, April