Internet Kiosk 15 Minute Limit...

Who would have thought that I would be typing on a kiosk in a family surgery waiting room, around a whole bunch of beautiful strangers looking out on the East River. This view is far from the one of Emanual Hospital in Portland, Oregon, but the view inside is all too familiar. The white walls, average pieces of art hanging on the walls, and vending machines tucked in the corner behind the roll away beds that stand in the halls...

It is no wonder most of the hospitals in New York are on the East River - it is so soothing to watch the peaceful yet violent current of the river below as I await to enter into a comatose state in surgery. I now understand the reason the late Stephen Hensor spoke of watching water so dearly in his battle with cancer.

I sit with about twenty others, some patients, most family members at six AM on Wednesday morning, trying to stay awake as the day's sun crests the apartment buildings of the bourogh of Queens across the river. You have the older typical cynical and "at each other's throats" Manhattan couple bickering even as the husband is entering the hospital. His entry reason, I do not know, but it makes me wonder if their strained relations this morning are a function of their marriage or if this surgery is one which they do not know the outcome and therefore both are on edge. The funny thing is that I believe if in Oregon, the same situational couple would be nice and loving toward one another...or maybe I am just partial.

May the Lord bless me and keep me during my surgery - and may it not rain today.