Hospital waiting rooms never smell right to me. The mix of families, food, and the general hospital air leave an odor that is, in a word, unpleasant.
I’m sitting in a rather comfortable chair, and I’m the only one here. Friends and family have stopped by, but now there is a lull in the visits. Dad and my brother will be back soon.
The TV is blasting Maury Povich. A former couple is slinging obscenities back and forth. Maury declares “When it comes to three-week-old Will, Tracy, you are the father!” Tracey instantly changes his tune. I’m too worn out to look for the remote or get up to change channel.
Mom will be going into surgery soon to remove a brain hemmorrage, and I am still standing on my faith. But the waiting is hard. The mind wanders, and fear fights for a prime spot in the forefront.
Yet, I remain steadfast. I will keep the faith.
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