Waiting is the hardest part
I sometimes wonder what purgatory is like. Some people say it is like drifting in darkness all alone nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to smell, nothing to taste, nothing to feel. Others say it is probably like an airport terminal during a snowstorm when all of the flights are canceled. Me, I believe purgatory is like being in a hospital waiting room while a loved one is in intensive care. You have all of the worry and the fret of an airport in a snow storm with all of the sensory deprivation of floating in the void.
It takes brains and more than a little skill to come out of a day in a waiting room unbroken. For me it also takes a backpack. I typically bring a book, mp3 player with plenty of extra batteries, jump rope, computer, note pad, travel coffee mug, flashlight, two tins of mints, a digital camera, a windbreaker, an extra pair of socks, and a spare pair of underwear, and of course, a towel.
Over the course of the day I was able to use the book and the mp3 player to put myself in the world of the story and not in the cold plastic, with constant ringing phone of reality. Never sit near the phone. If you sit near the phone you are expected to answer the phone. On the other end of the phone will be someone whom you don't know looking for someone else whom you also don't know. Tomorrow I am going to find the number of that phone and when the room needs a tension breaker I will walk outside to the smoking section and prank call it. I can't wait to hear some poor old woman shout; "Is someone here for my crotch?" Yes, I am well aware of the irony of prank calling from a place filled with smoke and angst. If purgatory is the waiting room and heaven is the coffee shop, hell is definitely the smoking area.
There is nothing more horrible than a bored anxious smoker. Unless it is a bored anxious smoker who has just gotten some bad news.
Worst of all, the people in the waiting room of intensive care, besides being bored, worried, and anxious, are almost always as old and as plain as the art reproductions on the walls. Where do the young sexy people wait anyway?
MP3 player to protect you from reruns of Walker Texas Ranger and the telephone. Book to protect you from having nothing better to look at. Jacket because it is often chilly in these waiting rooms (I think it is to keep the old people fresher longer). Towel because you will probably want a nap eventually and rest your eyes. Computer in case you finish your book. Notebook in case you have something interesting to write down for later and don't want to wait to boot your computer. (Fact: Computers boot 10 gazillion times slower in intensive care waiting rooms.) A jump rope, to tie up any loose children, or I suppose you could jump some rope to get the blood moving (untie toddler first). A tin of mints so you can have clean fresh breath. A pair of socks and a pair of underwear in case you have to eat in the hospital cafeteria. A tin of mints in case you had to eat in the hospital cafeteria.
So there, now you have had a lesson on hospital intensive care waiting room survival. Aren't you glad I brought a notebook along with me? I should get some more batteries and mints, tomorrow is going to be another long day in purgatory.
