I sat there on the hard plastic chair letting harsh medical smells invade my thoughts. I’d given up waiting to hear the soft little noises letting me know the doctor was on his way, or at least the nurse, into the room. There is something about waiting in a doctor’s office that makes time move in some strange way. Time stretches to an incredible length and it remains that way. Until.
Until the doctor or nurse is saying something serious. And then time zips by. But I was just waiting. Waiting for the doctor to tell me and go over lab results. Waiting for the doctor to look at the newest round of swelling and maybe do something about it. Waiting for the doctor to tell me he found a way to tame lupus.
The longer I waited the more I wondered what was going on. And knowing me, knowing how my mind works, I opted to pull out a book to distract myself while I waited. At least with a book I stop watching the clock, of course there is that wee issue of someone coming in when I’m not really ready to stop reading.
Finally the door opened, at a good place to stop riding, and my doctor came in. Normally he has energy and a smile, but today that smile was forced and tired. He made his way through my labs, looked at the swelling and told me that he didn’t know how anyone with a chronic illness keeps going. Not after repeatedly bad labs. The answer is that it’s tiring, but you keep going because there is always hope. Always something just around the corner that may be the answer.