Friday, May 28, 2010

Waiting Room

The waiting room past the outer waiting room is full to capacity. Waiting room. It's where women sit, their offending breasts partially concealed by poorly designed hospital-wear. They sit elbow to elbow, focused intently on their outdated magazine, or the book they brought along for amusement - if there is any to be had.

Some, like me just sit staring - at the paled hues of the walls; at the posters cautioning that these procedures could harm pregnancies, and reminding us to turn off our cell phones. Everyone has their own technique for masquerading their fears, but the eyes don't lie.

The waiting; it's trying and terrifying. Boobs in vices, needled, squeezed, examined, scanned and then tested some more.

Old ladies; younger women; ladies in running shoes, strappy sandals, and flip flops. Breast cancer does not discriminate. Here, we are all ladies in waiting ...
I am not the one being tested; I am just along for support for my loved one.

You may be interested in a previous post I wrote:  Clamp Down on Breast Cancer.


  1. We get a mobile mammogram vehicle round this way, with pretty good appointment systems that mean it's virtually straight in, almost as soon as you arrive - not much waiting around at all...

  2. My heart is with the person you are supporting. My sister and I were just talking about how many people we know have breast cancer. It's more than I can count on one hand. Sad.

  3. Oh, I'm so glad you weren't there for a biopsy heart was in my throat...But I am so very, very sorry for your friend...Sending love and prayers...Janine XOXO

    P.S. My word verification? angst! How's that for appropriate! XO

  4. I look back and realise until the day I go my diagnosis I did it all alone. No-one to hold my hand till my son came home, not cause I'd asked but because he knew I'd want him there to hear the news. I can never forget or be thankful enough for that love. Or my sister's when she took me in for surgery and cared for me so much in the following weeks.
    Breast cancer sucks, but weirdly I'm thankful I've had it, it's made me a better person.
    I hope the person you were with does okay.

  5. My thoughts and prayers are with the person you are supporting. It's a scary road to walk, I clearly remember walking it just a few years back. It was nice to have someone with me to make it a little less scary and a little less lonely.


I've made it easier to comment - no nasty word verification. So let me know you dropped by.