Wound Clinic Waiting Room

Wound Clinic Waiting Room HCMC

Lemons into Lemonade

       You refused the Blood Transfusion. It would be your 9^th one in the last few weeks. Sitting there with your friend your legs are bloated with fluid and any extra movement gives you shortness of breath. I worry. Then I worry some more. The nurse calls me out into the hall and tells me how concerned she is. But you won’t budge.

       We take the ride to HCMC with a great guy. All the way we talk about the lakes of Minneapolis and I tell him about all the ones I love. I could sure use a swim right now. Stress builds.

At the Wound Clinic the nurse who helps you is worried too. We are all worried. You try to walk to the bathroom but get too winded. I help you in the bathroom.

 Oh my darling how things have changed.

You go to your appointment and I sit with my companions in the waiting room. There he is. The man I drew months ago. Still on oxygen. His small turned in feet padded in soft materials. And his eyes so sad. He doesn’t make eye contact. I look upon him with compassion. But I don’t linger, the way I did before and before I know it he is whisked away.      The room empties.  I am so stressed out but force myself to take out my crayons and add color to the simple and well balanced waiting room drawing I did a week ago. And then I relax. The woman sitting next to me strikes up a conversation. We relax and chat. I add just the right amount of color. Then I call the Cancer Center and arrange for your blood transfusion tomorrow morning. Suddenly I feel relieved.        Kind of.

When your appointment is over the nurse and I confer and feel that the right decision has been made.

Out in the lobby the warm sun of this spring day dances over us. It is a long wait after all. I take out my paints and make a tiny studio for myself there amid the chairs. I keep thinking our ride will be here any moment…but we wait so long that I am able to finish my painting. Our driver is the first one we had weeks ago. He’s had a bad day. The woman in the van had a bad day. I had a bad day but not as bad as theirs. As we drive along he tells me his problems. Josh yells from the back. I suddenly feel our problems are not so bad after all.

Lemonade from lemons all over again!