Professor Gerald Perkus
February 2, 2012
After a long night tossing, turning, and praying to receive good news following my wife’s surgery and biopsies, I’m sitting here eyes glued to this nearly blank screen. My thoughts keep drifting back to my wife’s last comments as the nurse attempted to wheel her bed to the operating room. On the way out the foot of her bed slams into the door jam rousing my wife. Precipitating several more last comments, I would have anticipated a tender “I love you” possibly followed by another kiss goodbye. Instead, she grabs my hand for one last hurried comment, not an “I’ll see you soon or “I’ll be fine” as might be expected. Perhaps if you knew my wife, you might envision her saying “hug the dogs for me” possibly followed with a reminder that the “house is clean.” Instead I got a reminder to do my homework and her extracting my promise that I’ll go to class tonight. So I’m sitting here in the hospital lobby, earbuds firmly in place, an attempt to drive out the distractions. Still my attention keeps getting yanked away with each person passing, hoping it is news from the operating room. The people in street clothes, most waiting on a loved one like I am, are distracting enough, but there is a coffee station here in the lobby with free coffee and muffins. A sign above the muffins states that there is a limited supply so please only take one. Sitting here I notice that most people are ignoring the sign. Somehow this repeated infraction irritates me, promoting the desire to jump up and appoint myself the chief of muffin police. To resist the urge to say something foolish I move down the hall out of sight of the coffee station and the repeated urge to embarrass myself. After moving, I notice a good number of people getting coffee are hospital employees. I begin to wonder if they are offenders as well, snagging multiple muffins. I start playing with my iTunes playlist as if that...