Prayers

     Max sat in the waiting room. No signal on her phone. Great! The five lives of her game had been spent. One by one the people in the waiting room were thinning out. Currently, she looked like the youngest person here. But she knew looks were deceiving. 

     The t.v. was a muted whisper showing those who cared to watch ALL the tragedies in the world. She prayed someone would change the channel. Golf was better than this. 

     A quick glance at her watch, 10:00 am. An hour had crawled away into history. There went her blood pressure. And having to explain, yet again, that she had White Coat Syndrome. Her blood pressure was rock solid until she had to go to the doctor. Why did they make you wait? So, she didn’t make $300.00 an hour, but her time was just as precious to her as the doctors was to him. Just not worth as much money. 

     Once the lives in her game were gone. The t.v. held no interest. The full weight of the super cold room hit her. Why was it so cold? They should give out blankets while you wait. She needed a king sized comforter so it would cover from her ears to her toes. 

     She shifted in her seat. ‘Come on doc, let’s do this’. Maybe if she got up and went to the bathroom, it would make them call her name. It worked in restaurants. Get up to use the bathroom and the waiter would bring your food. 

     She shifted in the chair again. If the doc knew just how sore her butt was getting, he’d call her name. A sigh escaped her as that familiar feeling of ants crawling down her thigh made her shift in her seat again. 

     The little girl in black scrubs made her 50th appearance in a doorway. The area behind the door was bright compared to the drab colors in the waiting room. Clip board in hand. ‘Old school’, Max thought. ‘How old is she 12’? 

     

     “Maxine Wheeler,” she chimed with an honest cheer in her voice. 

     ‘God, you got this’. She prayed, leaning over to retrieving her purse from the floor at her feet. As she stood. ‘Stand’. She instructed her body. ‘Stand.’