Laughing, Giggles, and Creativity

Life is sometimes finding a smile on a tough day

The ladies behind the desk start giggling. You can tell they are trying to keep it in check.

Oh, don’t do that, please. Keep laughing. It sounds good.

I couldn’t help but look up with a smile, even behind this awful mask I have to wear. I’m sitting in the family waiting room at a large hospital in our area.

There are several of us sitting in the large lobby, the surgical “family” waiting area, wearing a green sticker. Mine says: “VISITOR: Date 3 / 22 / 21”. And the desk I spoke of has a large sign: “Please Wear Your Mask”

I’m here because Mom is in surgery after a fall and breaking her hip. I’m waiting. I have time by myself and my thoughts in this waiting room. I people-watch mostly but have an itching to write something.

It makes me happy to hear laughter in a hospital waiting room. I am momentarily distracted by the laughter and want to know what they are talking about that brought on that moment of sheer joy.

Laughing and giggles are fun. I have heard many times it is good for the soul and the body. There are times I have heard, “laughter is the best medicine!” I think earlier in my life, it was my grandmother who told me this bit of wisdom.

I can also hear a family member on the other side of a partition talking on his phone. And rather loud, too. He is calling people to give them an update on his wife and her surgery progress.

I watch one of the nurses come out from behind her desk and walk in his direction. “Sir, please keep your mask on.” She turns around, having given her advice.

I was wondering how I could hear him so clearly. Now I know. He was not wearing his mask properly.

I have on my mask as asked to do. There are maybe ten people in this family waiting room, and we are all socially distanced.

Filling my time with random thoughts

So what’s my problem? I didn’t bring anything to read. It is one of the few times I didn’t bring a book or magazine with me. I thought I would only see my Mom in “pre-op” before they took her to surgery. It is the only time they would let me see her.

I wasn’t sure I would stay long after that, not thinking I need to be here for the doctor to talk to me afterward. Good grief. Yes, of course, I do. I needed to know what kind of break she had and what the doctor estimated the length of rehab might be. I needed to know what her chances of walking again would be. Would it be with a cane, or a walker, or heaven forbid forever now in a wheelchair?

But she is alive, bones will heal, and that matters. She is 91. I need to enjoy the remaining years I have with her. I will see her smile and laugh like the ladies in the waiting room.

What to do with my free time?

I have my cell phone and try to read a bit, but I could not concentrate. I know I must have read the same sentences several times.

Okay, what now? Do you take a bag with you when doing stuff like this, filled with maybe a book, a bottle of water, and your essential things? I did bring a journal for taking notes if I get to meet with the doctors for my Mom.

I take out the journal and look through the pages for an idea. I see a list of articles I have written to teach my students. It might work to take a few of those words apart and see if I can develop a list of ideas to write about on Medium. I can’t concentrate.

Looking up, I still see the desk and the sign. As I hear the desk phone ring, I offer up a little prayer for my Mother. “Keep her safe and surgery going well.” The nurse doesn’t come my way, so I know her surgery isn’t over yet.

Something happens to break into that paralyzing moment.

My mind is jumping from one thought to another that is until I hear the nurses laugh and giggle. It makes me smile.

I decide to write about it. I have my journal and write about my day in a surgical center “family” waiting room. I am glad I put it in my bag. Thank goodness.

Lesson learned. Always have something to occupy your mind in a waiting room.

You never know when creativity might show up.