Out of Patience
This is just to say I’m sorry.
I know I can’t take myself back
From telling you how much I didn’t want to be here,
Didn’t want to go through two more hours of tests
I’d just had it with tests.
You were calm.
You asked me the required questions.
When had I last eaten?
Did I have any coffee?
Tea?
Chocolate milk?
Yes, I said.
I’d had a cup of coffee with my breakfast.
He smiled.
Then you get your wish.
We can’t do the test if you’ve had caffeine
In the last 12 hours.
I felt sheepish
Caught out
Trapped in my own frustration
No stress test for me today.
No two plus hours with
Another IV stuck in my arm.
I’d had a cup of coffee.
I’d done my own self in.
I needn’t even have come.
I’ll have to do it another day.
Different Kinds of Silence In and After the Emergency Room
There is the silence of embarrassment — did I actually say that?
The silence of boredom-nothing to do, no one to talk to, not a thing to occupy my attention, except myself and I don’t want to think about me.
There is the silence of waiting, am I next in line? Will that person ever come out of the bathroom? When is my lunch coming?
Then there is the delicious silence of night, of slipping between the covers, of sleep.
After I return home, the silence of the house, the front porch where I’ve forgotten to turn off the light, and the street.
The silence of reading something truly wonderful and new, of total attention and rapture.
Then there is the silence of the residue of anger, hurt and disappointment.
To say nothing? To say something? To be the first to speak?
Perhaps to swallow it for another time.
The silence of space to decide.
Move the disagreement/disappointment forward or let it lie.
The silence of both expectation and not yet.
