Thursday I had an appointment with a doctor that I had never seen before. It all started boring enough...walk in, fill out paperwork, give them the insurance card and then sit down and wait to be called. Seems simple enough. Thursday happened to be a particular beautiful day. The sun was shinning and the weather was perfect, not to hot and not to cold. As I sat in the waiting room, playing cards on my phone, I realized a small buzzing sound coming from the yellow fluorescent light in the lamp beside me. I wondered why all of the blinds where shut down tight when the day was so wonderful and surely the sunlight was a lot better then these artificial lamps. That's when my light bulb turned on. I looked around and realized that I was in Death's waiting room. Yes. I was about 30 to 40 years younger than everyone in the office, staff included. Now I have been struggling with turning 40 years old and have begun to panic a little realizing that I am now middle aged. How the hell did his happen to me? I don't feel 40. Anyway, the staff and it's patients (yours truly excluded) ranged between 65 to 'oh my god your still alive?' The furniture was old too...the place just felt old. The chairs and sofa were in a brown floral print. The music played music from the 50's.
One of the ladies on the staff started talking about how she couldn't have more than one cup of coffee a day or she gets sick. The lady sitting next to me seemed stationary. Her obviously dyed red hair did little to mask her age. Her dull and sunken eyes stared straight ahead looking at nothing. She even seemed like she wasn't breathing for bit but then her shirt moved and I knew she was still alive. The staff was definitely over 65. Everyone seemed to be moving at such a slow pace that they looked unreal. I started getting an anxiety attack. My breathing became rapid and I felt that flight or fight feeling hit me. I was scared. It looked like I was in a nursing home, waiting like the rest of these people for death to call my name, to be next. My overactive imagination kicked in and I thought all kinds of terrible thoughts.
Then the door to the back office opened up and a thin, frail, elderly woman with long wiry grey hair appeared with a chart in her hand. In a low and shaky voice she called my name. At first I thought twice about answering wondering if I should sneak out while I still could but I thought better of it and stood up. "Right here" I said gathering my things. She curled her bony forefinger and motioned for me to follow her. We went down the hall only a short way to the third door on the left side of the hall. She went to open the door when another equally old and frail looking woman with grey blue eyes that looked like they haven't had any moisture in them for years put her hand on the handle and slowly shook her head no. "Not this one, the last room." she said in a low and scary tone. The lady with my chart shook her head in acknowledgement like it was an secret understanding of why I had to go to the last room. I started freaking out again. Why the last room? What's wrong with this room? What's going on? The lady with my chart turned to me and again curled her bony finger at me motioning for me to follow her. Walking down the long and maze-like hallway, I realized that I was sweating. I felt myself shake and had to focus on where we were going. Left, right, right, left, right...she finally opened the door to the last room of the hallway.
The room was your standard patient room. White, filled with pictures of organs and stuff. "Sit on the flowered chair and the doctor will be right in." she said pointing to a chair that looked older than she did. I was afraid to sit in that chair for fear that it would collapse under my weight. "Thanks." I said. She left the room and as she closed the door she looked at me. I saw her flat, dead eyes peering out from her dark encircled lids until the door closed. WTF? What crazy, freak show doctor am I visiting? My mind went wild with possibilities. What if they wanted to suck out what youth I had left and leave me in an old husk of flesh and bone? I texted my husband where I was in case I didn't make it out alive. I prayed to the goddess to let me make it though this...I wanna live!!!! Melodramatic, maybe but I was scared. Then I heard talking outside. I strained to hear what they were saying. "I'm starving" I heard someone say. "Me too" someone responded. OMG! Was I lunch? How long had the staff be working here...perhaps feeding off of their patients, stealing their life force. Was this Hotel California? I wanted to break away, run and I don't run. I looked around and realized that there were all these pictures on the walls of young, healthy looking people smiling, in the prime of their lives. Is this what they promised them?
I heard whispers outside the door again and for a split second thought about just getting all of my stuff and leaving. I didn't want to be there and I should just get out, get out while I still could. The door opened slowly and the doctor entered. This elderly yet full of life man practically bounded in with a smile. I felt a little better and during the course of my visit he made me feel more at ease. Once the visit was over I got dressed and made my way through the maze like a pro. I opened the door to the waiting room and saw the glass door to the outside glowing with sunlight. I was almost out. As I opened the door a stern and deep voice shouted "Wait."I stopped. Wondering what to do. I was so close. I turned to see that elderly woman behind the desk standing there with my insurance card in hand. I thought about it for second. Should I run out, screw it I can get another card or risk being sucked back into the office...never making out. I took a deep breath and tried to muster as much courage as possible. Trying to be as brave as possible, I walked back and took my card from her thin and shaking hand. "Thanks" I said, and ran out of there like my life depended on it. I got to my car and left, squealing my tires on the asphalt. I am not sure I will ever see that doctor again but I will never forget visiting him either.
Until next time...
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