Here I am again, arriving at the hospital for my Diabetes check up appointment. So far I’ve done this for over three decades, I wonder how many decades more? Usually these check ups are on a four monthly regime. Accompanied for me by various other hospital check ups in different departments, retinopathy, podiatry, neurology and dermatology to list just some. I’ve probably sat in hospital clinic waiting rooms hundreds upon hundreds of times so far! The experience and anticipation beforehand never really changes. It’s the outcome of the waiting room that changes depending on test results gained.
I enter the waiting room. That oh so familiar place. I give my name and hospital number that I know backwards off by heart to the receptionist. She clicks my attendance in on the computer screen. As I take a seat I watch her get up from her desk to go to the box of files. Searching for my hospital notes that wait with me here every time. She never searches long for my notes as they are roughly eight inches odd thick. A swamp of medical notes collected over 33 years. She struggles to lift them out ( they must be heavy with all that history stored inside) and puts them onto the desk with a thud.
So it begins, the wait. I waited for my appointment to arrive. Now I’m in the waiting room waiting to be called in by the nurse first to check my weight, blood pressure and take bloods. The HbA1c blood test to find out what my average blood glucose reading has been over the past few weeks. Will it be better than last time? Or worse? Or the same? I’ll just have to wait and see. After the tests are done I go back to the waiting room to wait to be called by the consultant. Wait, wait, wait. I wait for my blood sugar levels to rise after a hypo and to lower after a high. Always a wait.
I look around at the other people in the waiting room. Wondering if they all feel like me? We all have something in common afterall. Feelings of worry, stress and anxiety. A ‘fed up’ feeling being here again. What am I going to have for lunch when I leave feeling…
I ponder as to if I am in control whilst in this waiting room. How do you control the unknown? My emotions running wild and questions buzzing around in my head. I meant to write the questions I wanted to ask down but I forgot to do that! I can’t recall the questions I wanted to ask. Were they that important then? I’ll remember when I get home and kick myself for forgetting. What are they going to ask me today or tell me today? Another referral maybe? Another wait ?
I know this waiting room like the back of my hand. The unexpected is expected. Pessimism and optimism brushing shoulders inside me every time I sit waiting in this waiting room…
As I leave the clinic I’m given my next appointment letter and the waiting starts all over again …..

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