Hey, just wrote this.
Perhaps more fitting for the blog, up to u :)
- Jacky T
Health Level 80%
by Jack T
"Sitting in the emergency room waiting room.
Red seats are for if you're extra special.
'Special' in this case is a morbid reversal of its lit intent; red seats mean the triage nurse has assigned you there because you have something which well, unlike the rest of us here, is close to emergency.
People sit and sigh and watch the Danoz direct infomercial start over again, it's on a 4 hour loop of 8 different infomercials each allotted 30 mins each.
It's a different kind of morbid groan that escapes my lips when the first one I saw is repeating again, it signals I've been there over 4 hours now.
I've tried sitting with my face in my hands, then head on my palm, slumped in the corner of the chair with my jaw on its edge and of course the knees up to chest pose at least 3 times over each.
The room is a nice splattering of Melbourne's inner city folk.
The manager of my local pub is there with his missus, they try and chat to me about futsal injuries and alcohols precarious relationship when I first arrive but now stare through me with the same vague pain we all share towards the admin nurse, willing her to read our eyes which whisper, 'I'll slip ya a 20, a 50! cook ya dinner for the next week! ...if you just nudge me one spot up!'
There's an angry man presenting with some issues.
None what you'd class medical.
He wants to see a psych nurse and starts abusing the male triage nurse for having shit professional skills while he hammers on about how far he's walked barefoot at 3am to get there.
I wanna throw him my car keys and tell him he can nap in there if that's what he really needs but just can't quite bring himself to admit to them.
Jeez I've been there, that not quite desperate enough to tell the truth kinda desperation.
The walls look white as my eyes can handle. Perhaps they are whiter if I took my sunglasses off, but I've strategically worn them since I arrived to give myself an 'unbalanced, let's get that guy outta here look' and hopefully be pushed up the cue.
Judging from mr barefoot's crass efforts, that angle isn't gonna work though.
I take my sunnies off just as he is called ahead of everyone else to see the doctor and we all give the admin lady a pained look of disbelief.
I wanna righteously bark out loud, 'oi, don't you know rewarding anti social pathos is just perpetuating that shit?!' and consequently get a rousing round of applause from my waiting room compadres... But admin lady has luggage heavier than mine under her eyes and she is almost daring anyone to challenge her on the call, so I just move to position 3 of 5 in my chair and wait.
When I'm called in to see the doctor, the male and female nurses try and flirt with me and I'm off point and confused rather than jovial with them, it takes me a while to realise it's just 2pm in their world, while I struggle to keep my eyes open and balance down the hall.
Once I've been seen for half what I came for, I think about health and how I have lots of it.
My face doesn't look like the Doom guy at even 75% so I should be grinning as I leave, but I'm not.
It seems fitting to be sad to watch people smoke cigarettes out front the hospital doors, breathing out while they yawn.
Good morning Melbourne, good night folks."