Knit and Wait. Knit and Wait.

 I was glad that I had brought my knitting into the examining room with me.   Every time I would come to the end of a row, I would look at my watch to try to judge whether or not I would have time to begin another row.   Even though I have learned the pattern, I am a beginner at lace.  I am very careful to make sure I keep track of my rows and repeats. After 20 minutes, I decided to put it away.   I didn't want the Doc to walk in and have to jam my knitting back into the bag without finishing a row.

The room was pretty stark.  No pictures on the walls, nothing on the counters.  An exam table, blood pressure gauge and a scale.  Not very interesting.

As I sat there listening intently for the Dr.'s footsteps, staring at the door with the "Be Sure To Get Your Flu  Shot" sign hanging on it, I started to think about how much of my time during my life has been spent waiting for the Doctor.

I thought about what a person does when they walk into the Doctor's office?  First, of course, they sign in and the "behind the window lady" takes their co-pay and insurance info.   Then they walk over to the magazine rack.  Or they make sure they get a good seat in front of the flat screen.  Or they bring out a book or, as in my case, their knitting.
That's right, we have been well trained to wait, and wait and wait for the Doctor.

Throughout my life, my waiting room waiting experiences have included waiting for my children's doctors, my spouse's doctor's, emergency room doctors and my Dad's doctors.  As I get older the waiting room waiting experiences seem to get more difficult and emotionally painful.  A year and a half ago it was waiting for my Mom's Oncologist.  This year waiting for my son's Oncologist.

I began to wonder why I was even in that exam room.   I wasn't ill.  But sitting there on the table waiting, I felt like a patient.

When the Doc. finally made her appearance and asked how I was doing, I didn't quite know how to answer.   She said, "Why are you here?"

I reminded her that she recommended that I come back for a six month follow up visit.

"Oh let me check my notes here.   Hmmm, that's right, I see you are taking Lipitor.  We should have sent you for a blood test.  Oh, wait here are the results.  "They" didn't put them on top so I didn't realize they were here.    Well your blood test came back fine.  Keep taking the Lipitor and we'll see you again in six months.  Have a nice day now."

Of course I am exaggerating a little.  She did take my blood pressure and listen to my lungs and heart.

Before I left I did ask her for a recommendation for a counselor.  She couldn't give me one, though, because she said I  would have to go through my insurance company for that. She pointed out that on the back of my card, there was an 800 number to call.

I have to say one of the best things I have done for myself during this  most difficult time of my life is learn how to knit.  I suppose I should find a support group or a counselor, but for right now I'd rather be knitting while I wait.