The beeping of the monitor seemed to pound in my ears. Waiting was the most painful part. The words that could follow the doctor’s entrance were unthinkable. Dead. Critical condition. Full recovery. These were all plausible options of which some I did not want to hear. The chair was ice on my legs as I counted the dirt-stained tiles on the floor. The door creaked open as the nurse entered the room.
“I have important information about your grandfather.”
Silence fell over my family like a tsunami wave hitting the shore. The doctor talked but all I could hear was a slight mumbling. What was he saying? I could tell it wasn’t something worth smiling over by the looks on my family’s faces. We had to continue waiting. Several other families left the room with looks of happiness. Others with looks of despair. It was a mystery as to how we would leave. The doctor entered the room once again.
“He is going to make a full recovery.”
The waiting room was no longer a room of silence and heartache, it was now filled with joy and laughter.
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