I know they call them "Waiting Rooms" because that's what we do there, but they should really just call them "Hell on Earth." Especially the room full of families waiting for news about their loved-ones surgeries. It's a bizarre amalgamation of representatives from every aspect of society, wringing our hands, rubbing our aching backs and praying our "beeper" beeps soon with news.
When I say "beeper", I mean they give you the same thing you get at a restaurant to inform you your table's ready. It buzzes, you report to the hostess, and they introduce you to your surgeon who hopefully utters the phrase "Everything went well," and does not slip an earth-shattering "but..." in under his breath.
We're just about 5 hours since she wandered into the elevator. Hopefully our table will be ready soon...
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