Anxiously Waiting

I am hypersensitive to every sound, touch and smell. The anxious feeling runs through my veins and causes my body to buzz in a constant state of panic. Itchy, dull, green waiting room chairs scratch at my legs through my faded jeans. I grip the cold, metal sides of the chair with my sweaty hands in a release of suppressed fearful emotions. The smell of strong disinfectants burns my nostrils and causes my eyes to moisten with salty tears. The thundering beeping of a heart monitor brings me back to the present. I look up from the spotless, bright, white floor and turn to see the nurses station. All of them are female and seem to be dramatically gossiping about a resent social event. I could care less about their drama. I just wish to see my mother. There are many noises from patients and monitors that I can hear yet all of them see to disappear. I am alone in the waiting room and the silence of being alone to me is deafening. My Father and brother had left a couple minutes ago to grab some coffee. I feel a great sorrow for my Father, as he has been at the hospital all day waiting for results that would never seem to come. I think of my mom and how my brother and I were not allowed to see her before she left. My mother knew she would be overcome with her fear of surgery if she had to say goodbye to us in such a way that it would feel like a finality; as though she would not return to us. It's alarming to me that she could have cancer. I struggle with that possible fact, even though the doctor's say there is a extremely high success rate from thyroid cancer. Still, I don't like the idea of my mother having to go through that ordeal. At the thought of my mom I turn on my phone and flip to a photo of me and her when I was younger. In the photo I am wearing one of my mom's necklaces. We are in my Aunt and Uncle's tiny house they used to own until they moved away. I am sitting on my mom's lap and we share the same long brown hair and large smile. I need the positive memories at this difficult time. Right now I feel as though I am on the edge of panic attack. Battling against potential grim, scenarios is something I am ashamed to admit. Strong and stable are things I should be, though it seems I am not. In my vision I now see a tall, lanky man in a white lab coat approach me. It takes me a minute to rouse of my daze and register him as a doctor. It is time to face the news on the results.