This Circus Might Need Another Ring

The waiting room at therapy on Wednesday was wild. I was only inside 13 minutes before I got called back, but my nerves were frayed. There are many services offered here. Physical therapy for those who need rehab after injuries. Occupational therapy like my lymphedema treatments, and services like speech and behavior modification for kids. The waiting room is always packed just before appointment times. Since mine was usually at 1:00, right after lunch, it was a full house.

The room is rectangular. About 10 feet by 20 feet. As you walk through the front door (hopefully avoiding being whacked by that automatic left door) there is a row of three chairs against the right wall. A row of five chairs backed up to the front wall. A double row of back-to-back chairs (five in each row) down the middle. That's all the seating. The receptionist is behind glass at the left end. The door to the treatment rooms where I go went is on the back wall. The door to the workout machine area is on the right wall.

It's a problem when people bring companions. Not a big deal if it's their first time. They don't know any better. After that, it's just somebody taking up a chair, who doesn't need to be there. A parent is required to stay with each kid. So two seats are gone right there, unless the kid is a lap-sitter. This one old man always brought his wife. I'd think they could stand to be separated for an hour a day, but they didn't think so. Then there are the folks with multiple kids. Or the mom that brings grandma along to keep her company while the kid is in treatment. Sometimes it's standing room only until a therapist comes out and calls a name.

Anyhoo... on Wednesday, I entered at 12:45. I do that so I can get a seat on the row facing my treatment door. Then my back is toward the rest of the room. It's luck of the draw who ends up sitting by you. I'd try to get a space on the end, by the receptionist. That way, I'd only have ONE person sitting beside me. And I wasn't in the middle, splitting up chairs where a couple couldn't sit. Because most single people would take a chair while leaving an empty one between us. 

Anyhoo... on Wednesday, there were already four people inside. They must have been dropped off before I got there, because I didn't see anybody go in, and I was the only car in the patient lot. An old man was in my end seat. He got up for the bathroom as soon as I came out. So I left a chair, and sat in the middle. I didn't want to be a weirdo sitting right next to his seat, with others empty, when he came out.

Well. That old man didn't come out for about ten minutes! That left me alone, in the middle chair. A lady with a 5-year-old boy checked in. She sat in the old man's seat. Her son refused to sit in the chair by me. Most adults will take that chair, and put their kid on the end. Not this one. She put her purse there, and let him prance around in front of it. He was actually a polite little boy, soft-spoken. He kept asking what was for lunch. Then what was for supper. He said they needed to go to the store to get his "special" foods. That made me curious. Until she asked him, "Like what?" and he said, "Pizza. And hot dogs."

A lady with an infant in a carrier checked in, and sat at the chair on the far right of me. The old man came out of the bathroom, and had to walk to the back to find a chair. The little boy and his mom got called back to treatment.

A lady in an ankle cast, struggling as if it was her first time on crutches, checked in, and sat in the old man's seat on the left end. I suppose maybe she was there to learn how to walk with crutches. I can't imagine what else she could have done that day.

The seats behind me had been filling up with random people who didn't seem to be a problem.

A lady came in with four (!) kids, all around seven years old. She told them to sit in the three chairs along the end wall by the door. Then she paraded to the check-in window. WITH A DOG! A big long-haired German Shepherd dog, wearing a Service Dog vest, with a handle. I don't know what kind of service. The lady appeared to have sight. She went back to sit with her four kids.

A lady came in with a red-haired toddler around three years old. I've seen her there before. The lady sat down right next to me, on my right, by the infant mom. Li'l Red made a beeline for the baby. "Yes. It's a LITTLE baby, isn't it. No. You can't touch it." Li'l Red was reaching into the carrier, and had to be pulled away. Red Mom put her on her lap. Where Li'l Red started to scream at the top of her lungs. A scream that pierced my very soul. "Oh. You're vocal today, aren't you?"

A woman came in with a hoodie-wearing tween, who was awed by the dog as she walked past. "Ooh. Is that your service dog? Can I pet it?"

"No! You're not supposed to!"

Well. It was a polite request. A nicer response might have been to say, "No, I'm sorry. The dog has a job to do." Or someway explain how service dogs are working dogs, and not to be distracted.

Meanwhile, Li'l Red was still going strong. Several physical therapists came out to call their people, and had to repeat themselves. Then, miraculously, OT was walking through, saying, "HM? Are you ready?" as she always did.

When I got back in the treatment room, I said, "I have never been more ready in my life!"

"Oh, no! I saw it was 1:01, and I thought, 'I better get out there!'"

"No, I didn't mean that. It was just the SCREAMER sitting right next to me. And the scariest looking service dog I've ever seen in my life. Though it WAS wearing a vest saying it was a service dog. But I guess anybody could just order one of those off the internet."

"Yeah. We had a teenage girl come in her saying her dog was a service dog. It was jumping on people and trying to get through the reception window. We have to be really careful what we ask. You know, we can't ask anything about why she NEEDS a service dog. Finally, after a few visits, she admitted that it was just her dog, and not trained to be a service dog. So she stopped bringing it. Then we had an old man with a little dog. We knew it wasn't a service dog, and he never said it was. But we let it go. Because it was so tiny, and not a problem."

I will really miss OT, but I WILL NOT miss sitting in that waiting room.