Having My Head Examined – Part 2

Part 1 – HERE

Pumpkin pie notwithstanding, the actual visit was … an experience.

Have you ever seen the poster by Gottfried Heinwein, called ‘The Boulevard of Broken Dreams’, wherein he reworked Edward Hopper’s ‘Nighthawks at the Diner’ with Humphrey Bogart, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and Elvis Presley, instead of the original characters?

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

I’ve been in and out of hospital, (takes off shoes and socks to count) somewhere in the order of fifteen times in my adult life. All of those visits have been for surgeries to my knee with a few tagged on the end there for my thyroid cancer.

Almost every hospital, (on two continents) had a large entrance or atrium, where there’s usually a coffee shop, a directory, the elevators, a few clusters of faux-comfy chairs, that sort of thing … I’ve always thought of these areas as a sort of ‘boulevard of broken bodies’, because inevitably there would be a smattering of all sorts of body’s, in all sorts of stages of repair and disrepair scattered throughout.

The energy of broken and mending people is hard to be around sometimes. When I think of the thousands of people who have moved through those halls and rooms, all with their fears and pain and terror, it’s almost possible the hear the walls themselves screaming to be released from it all.

This miasma isn’t noticeable to the casual observer, and if loins are suitably girded, one simply feels a sense of relief when one leaves.

My loins were not sufficiently girded. I was already emotionally off-balance. (for reasons mentioned in Part 1)

Throw into the mix, having to wear a mask, (being mid-range-deaf and everyone else is wearing masks too so I can’t lip-read as I usually do and I certainly can’t decode their mufflings without a universal translator) the whole ‘boulevard’ thing, and add an eerie dose of those halls of medicament being damn-near deserted just to top it all off.

I gotta tell you, I was so far out of my skin (read ‘comfort zone) I could’ve been orbiting Jupiter and I wouldn’t’ve been able to tell the difference.

Normally I’m easy-going, but nothing’s ‘normal’ anymore, is it?

By comparison, the CT scan itself was the epitome of horizontalised boringness.

On the way home I blathered on to Mrs Widds about all of the above, and as good listeners (and, hopefully, all spouses) are wont to do, she made supportive noises in all the right places and offered up her wisdoms when I finally ran out of steam.

12 days later, though, and the hospital STILL hasn’t sent its report to my GP. (as of today 22nd October)



On the up side, a cold front is dragging lots of chilly air down from the Arctic this weekend, so we might even see some early snow …. and we all know how I feel about snow!



Our road, January 2017 - Oh, how so long ago that seems

Our road, January 2017 – Oh, how so long ago that seems


41 comments on “Having My Head Examined – Part 2

  1. Sue Vincent says:

    Not good… they really do need to get these ruddy results to you.

    And a hefty dose of snow by way of compensation… πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I hadn’t seen that reworking of Hopper’s great picture, but your post reminded me of Munch’s masterpiece.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Widdershins says:

      Upon reflection, and apart from my state of mind going in, the deserted look of the place, that’s usually so bustling, was the most discombobulating … which, when I think about it, is a sad indictment on the health of our society when we expect hospitals to be bustling.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. jenanita01 says:

    Waiting for results is a nightmare, and we hate it with a passion in this house. It’s almost as though they don’t know how not knowing feels… We hope the news is good, when it does turn up!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Elisa says:

    I’m hoping that the slowness means it isn’t something terrible. Like if it were terrible, they would call you right away, don’t you think? That has been my experience. But when they thought I had pancreatic cancer, it took 2 weeks before they even did the biopsy and a week before they told me, surprise! It’s not pancreatic cancer, it’s lymphoma. In that case, it was good news. . . eh, I am rambling. I beseech the universe to return to you good news. . .

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Tish Farrell says:

    So sorry you’ve been left in this horrible limbo, Widders. It’s so inhumane.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Elisa says:

    Also that rework is so much more stimulating than Hopper’s original. . .

    Liked by 1 person

  7. quiall says:

    I too am waiting for results. I went to the hospital for the test and I was impressed by the measures they have taken and also saddened. I was in and out very quickly but disconcerted by the lack of people. I was so glad to get home. Maybe I just stay here until there’s a vaccine . . .

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Waiting for results is the worst torture. Hopefully they are delayed because there is nothing to see. Wishing you good health.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Kate Duff says:

    I wish you would get the results. Limbo land is crappy. Masks – we don’t have to wear them here and I everyday thank the Gods for living where I do. Chin up Widds and enjoy your snow x

    Liked by 1 person

  10. catdownunder says:

    I sincerely hope that it is a matter of “no news is good news”. Paws crossed for you.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. TanGental says:

    Halls of medicament… that’s splendid. Hopefully you’ll get the results and the snow in the same flurry. We last had snow when the Pope was a Borgia and men wore hats to work. Happy day. I like hats and psychotic pontiffs…

    Liked by 1 person

  12. acflory says:

    Ouch, that’s a long time to be on tenterhooks. 😦 I hope you get the results bright and early Monday morning and everything is fine AND you get some snow to cheer you up. And a special dinner. -hugs-

    Liked by 2 people

  13. bone&silver says:

    The waiting game sucks. I’d call them- what if the results got lost or confused? Stuff waiting any longer! Fingers and toes and good luck altar all crossed for fine news.

    Snow?? So jealous. We are rolling into early summer and thunderstorms here- humidity rising- grass starting to gather growing speed- time to look into ride-on mower prices methinks πŸ˜‰

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Snow sounds kind of fun. Hospitals… not so much. I hope no news ends up being good news. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.