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Paul Francis Mc Cann

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Prayers In Waiting Rooms
By Paul Francis Mc Cann
Monday, February 04, 2008

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The story of a man whom loves to sit in waiting rooms .





It was cold and wet outside and inside a large crowd of people were waiting to see the doctor . There was some talk here and there among mothers who had just left their school children at school .
I though getting to the doctors early would be a clever thing to do .
Get in before everyone else I thought but they were there first .
No appointment day is not a good day to see the doctor .
I looked at my watch , it was eight forty five and I had already been there too long . The sound of newspapers and pages of magazines briefly ruffled as they turned over , bringing with them an end or an interlude to another article about life . An opinion or echo written by some freelance writer who had something to say about something .

What was the question ?
What is the answer ?

The doctor hadn’t arrived yet to greet his patients who sat waiting in his waiting room .The receptionist smiled at every one walked in .

The doctor was unaware if the large crowd in his waiting room .
Sweet surrender, the old woman sighed ,
The baby screamed for a feed .
The boys with a sneeze couldn’t control himself any longer .
He was joined by the middle aged man with a nagging cough .

Where is the lifeguard I was drowning in a sea of sickness .
All I was after was a second opinion .

So what I had could not be disguised or denied .
A broken wrist .
It felt ok but the writer in me wanted out and I had an itch I couldn’t scratch .
Like the sneeze that will not come I sat waiting with a large group of people
who had given thoughts of digging their own graves as we waited .

I asked the man beside me with a walking stick ,
“How long has it walked ?”

He smiled and said something about missing his breakfast .
What we need now is meals on wheels .
Where are they when you really need them .
I was getting a little anxious .

Waiting rooms and walking sticks I thought ., how ironic .

The receptionist put on the radio so we all had something to distract us from all the other distractions . Just in time for the ten o’clock news .
The presenter read a report about something so important that we all tried to listen .

Some innocent man killed by a armed man with a machete as he tried to escape the maddening crowd .
Someone’s new baby born with HIV in some third world country .

The baby in the waiting room began to cry and it was difficult to hear the rest of the ten o’clock news .

Who needs it anyway .

Every time the door opened we all hoped it would be the doctor .
An old woman who could barely walk came into the waiting room .
She needed someone to assist her to sit down if there was an empty chair .
I couldn’t resist .

I stood up and walked over to look outside the window .

The time of waiting allowed me time to reflect on life .
It gave me the ability to redefine my existence with human kind .
There’s so much more to being sick that being sick .

Some people have no patience and the glow of life has become all gloom .
Pity for the people who sat looking glum.
Heads hung down in waiting rooms .
Life should not be so sad or sick .
Life is not all fun for the cross eyed and cross legged .
People don’t like to be kept waiting .
Dads and lads or babies with dummies .
Mums and sons, with coughs and sneezes .
Men with walking sticks.
What this place needs is a lift or therapy , I though .
Waiting rooms need something .
A kind reassuring word or maybe even a bit of comic relief .

I thought If I don’t try to cheer everyone up there will be an argument soon .
The it came to me ,
Talk don't shout and every one will hear .
Don’t live with fear .

“I wonder when the doctor will arrive to see us ?”
I said .

But nobody answered .
Then it came to me .
Waiting rooms need prayer .

So I sat there and silently prayed for those who were sick either in mind or body .
Its an understanding I suppose of the suffering in those around us .

Then after I prayed for those around me I focused on the world outside and prayed for the sick people all over the world .

That made me feel better and also more aware of how many people in the world who were sick . Then I started to feel sorry for doctors who had their hands full .
So I forgave the doctor for being late and started to pray for doctors .
Then I thought about doctors who got sick and prayed for the doctors doctor .


The door opened and the healer walked in .
It was the doctor .
He smiled and said good morning .
Everyone answered .
I wanted to grab him by the hand and tell him how much I felt for him in carrying out his life’s vocation .
I wanted to tell him I understood and how unjust life was making him have work long hours without getting any appreciation .
I wanted to crawl into his consultation room on my hands and knees .
But when it was my turn to go in I walked in and took a seat beside his large desk and said
“ Could you check my wrist doctor . I’m told its broken . “ I said .
He wrote me a referral for an x-ray and told me to go there straight away .
I thanked him and did as he asked .
When I got to the x-ray and pathology unit I took a seat in the waiting room .
Sometimes life can be erratic , others times ecstatic ,
Is there a cure for a waiting room fanatic ?

By Paul McCann

The End Prayers Inside Waiting Rooms

By Paul McCann


It was cold and wet outside and inside a large crowd of people were waiting to see the doctor . There was some talk here and there among mothers who had just left their school children at school .
I though getting to the doctors early would be a clever thing to do .
Get in before everyone else I thought but they were there first .
No appointment day is not a good day to see the doctor .
I looked at my watch , it was eight forty five and I had already been there too long . The sound of newspapers and pages of magazines briefly ruffled as they turned over , bringing with them an end or an interlude to another article about life . An opinion or echo written by some freelance writer who had something to say about something .

What was the question ?
What is the answer ?

The doctor hadn’t arrived yet to greet his patients who sat waiting in his waiting room .The receptionist smiled at every one walked in .

The doctor was unaware if the large crowd in his waiting room .
Sweet surrender, the old woman sighed ,
The baby screamed for a feed .
The boys with a sneeze couldn’t control himself any longer .
He was joined by the middle aged man with a nagging cough .

Where is the lifeguard I was drowning in a sea of sickness .
All I was after was a second opinion .

So what I had could not be disguised or denied .
A broken wrist .
It felt ok but the writer in me wanted out and I had an itch I couldn’t scratch .
Like the sneeze that will not come I sat waiting with a large group of people
who had given thoughts of digging their own graves as we waited .

I asked the man beside me with a walking stick ,
“How long has it walked ?”

He smiled and said something about missing his breakfast .
What we need now is meals on wheels .
Where are they when you really need them .
I was getting a little anxious .

Waiting rooms and walking sticks I thought ., how ironic .

The receptionist put on the radio so we all had something to distract us from all the other distractions . Just in time for the ten o’clock news .
The presenter read a report about something so important that we all tried to listen .

Some innocent man killed by a armed man with a machete as he tried to escape the maddening crowd .
Someone’s new baby born with HIV in some third world country .

The baby in the waiting room began to cry and it was difficult to hear the rest of the ten o’clock news .

Who needs it anyway .

Every time the door opened we all hoped it would be the doctor .
An old woman who could barely walk came into the waiting room .
She needed someone to assist her to sit down if there was an empty chair .
I couldn’t resist .

I stood up and walked over to look outside the window .

The time of waiting allowed me time to reflect on life .
It gave me the ability to redefine my existence with human kind .
There’s so much more to being sick that being sick .

Some people have no patience and the glow of life has become all gloom .
Pity for the people who sat looking glum.
Heads hung down in waiting rooms .
Life should not be so sad or sick .
Life is not all fun for the cross eyed and cross legged .
People don’t like to be kept waiting .
Dads and lads or babies with dummies .
Mums and sons, with coughs and sneezes .
Men with walking sticks.
What this place needs is a lift or therapy , I though .
Waiting rooms need something .
A kind reassuring word or maybe even a bit of comic relief .

I thought If I don’t try to cheer everyone up there will be an argument soon .
The it came to me ,
Talk don't shout and every one will hear .
Don’t live with fear .

“I wonder when the doctor will arrive to see us ?”
I said .

But nobody answered .
Then it came to me .
Waiting rooms need prayer .

So I sat there and silently prayed for those who were sick either in mind or body .
Its an understanding I suppose of the suffering in those around us .

Then after I prayed for those around me I focused on the world outside and prayed for the sick people all over the world .

That made me feel better and also more aware of how many people in the world who were sick . Then I started to feel sorry for doctors who had their hands full .
So I forgave the doctor for being late and started to pray for doctors .
Then I thought about doctors who got sick and prayed for the doctors doctor .


The door opened and the healer walked in .
It was the doctor .
He smiled and said good morning .
Everyone answered .
I wanted to grab him by the hand and tell him how much I felt for him in carrying out his life’s vocation .
I wanted to tell him I understood and how unjust life was making him have work long hours without getting any appreciation .
I wanted to crawl into his consultation room on my hands and knees .
But when it was my turn to go in I walked in and took a seat beside his large desk and said
“ Could you check my wrist doctor . I’m told its broken . “ I said .
He wrote me a referral for an x-ray and told me to go there straight away .
I thanked him and did as he asked .
When I got to the x-ray and pathology unit I took a seat in the waiting room .
Sometimes life can be erratic , others times ecstatic ,
Is there a cure for a waiting room fanatic ?

By Paul McCann

The End

       Web Site: ABD Tales

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