Episode 03: I went to the guardian waiting room.

He had surgery. The schedule was to be hospitalized the day before for preparation, have surgery the next day, and be discharged the next day. It was a relatively simple surgery, so the schedule was short, and I only had to sleep on the guardian’s bed with the chair spread out that day. However, as I was faced with the idea of ​​surgery as his guardian, I wondered if I could say that any surgery was simple. This was his first time having surgery, so he felt awkward about everything, and it was unfamiliar to me to watch him react like that. After completing all the hospitalization procedures, having our last meal before fasting, and pouring some warm water by my bedside, I decided to go home.

“Write a will. Have you ever written your own will?”

I have experience with several surgeries. It wasn’t that I was pessimistic that I would die during the surgery or that I was afraid that I wouldn’t wake up. However, in the hospital, death always came to mind, and at such times, instead of my diary writing routine, I wrote something for my loved ones, not my current self. Isn’t that a will? Rather, after spending that time, death was not heavy. It wasn’t scary. Of course, there were times when tears came to my eyes, the sentences were overly sentimental, and most of the words were meaningless. Now I don’t even know where all those wills went. However, my own ritual of capturing life once in a while has become a time to go a little deeper into life rather than getting closer to death.

He had trouble sleeping on his first day in an unfamiliar hospital room, so I tried to add some encouragement to his time… … I guess I wrote it.

As dawn came, I got ready for my child to go to school, went straight to the hospital room, and waited until he woke up.

Dawn in a quiet and busy hospital. The sound of the hospital room door opening and closing, the sound of the nurse’s footsteps, the sound of the device measuring body temperature and blood pressure, and the sound of the keyboard entering information were low. Soon a light turned on in the middle of his bed. Since the surgery was scheduled for the first time, I was told to get up and get ready to go down.

“hi! did you sleep well?”

“You’re here. “I went to sleep right away.”

If so, that’s a relief.

He said that he would be hungry, but since it was his first surgery, the fasting would not be long. Thank goodness, and since it was a simple surgery, it would be over soon. I deliberately said the word ‘simple’ out loud. After completing the preparations, we went down to the second floor where the operating room was. He, who was sitting in a wheelchair, went into the surgery preparation room, and I, who was waving, went across the hall to the guardian waiting room.

The guardian waiting room was still quiet.

I was thinking about having a cup of coffee, but when I saw his name appear on the surgery status screen, I sat down again.

There were two large TVs on the wall in front of the waiting room. One was a status screen that showed in real time whether the patient was in the waiting room or the operating room and where the patient was moved to the recovery room, hospital room, or intensive care unit after the surgery. The other one was a drama that was airing.

The number of patients entering the surgery waiting room increased. The chairs in the guardian waiting room were gradually filling up. It was still dawn outside, but the air in the hospital felt hot, as if it were past noon.

I couldn’t see the screen where the drama was playing clearly from where I was sitting. It wasn’t a drama I was used to watching anyway. I used my smartphone to use SNS, search news, and refresh the screen. No matter how much I pulled and released the screen, there was nothing new. When I look up, I see people doing similar things sitting on chairs across from each other. I thought there was nothing strange about me.

His name was passed from the waiting room to the operating room.

Each letter of the patient’s name on the surgery status screen is hidden behind an asterisk

. The list got longer and his name was moved to the back, so I found myself looking at the screen the whole time, trying to check it again and again. As I looked at it like that, it seemed like I knew all the names on the list.

I was just sitting still and I was thirsty. There was a vending machine in front of the TV showing the drama, but a few guardians who couldn’t take a seat were leaning against it. It wasn’t so thirsty that I had to ask them to get out of the way as I leaned back with my eyes half closed. Fortunately, there was a tumbler in the bag I brought out, just as I had put it down the day before, and there was some cold barley tea left, so luckily I got my lips wet. About twenty minutes had passed since the estimated surgery time. I thought it would be better not to think about anything.

At that time, a male guardian came in with both hands full of luggage.

Since it was a place where people were constantly moving in and out, I wasn’t conscious of each person, but he was a person whose movements particularly caught my eye. Although there was no one making noise, the air in the guardian waiting room, where there was always a small commotion, stopped flowing for a moment. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then put down the luggage in his hands on the floor at the entrance and sat down on an empty chair in the front row. I sat down and got up, I did that a few times. As he was confused, the heads of the guardians who were watching the drama moved here and there.

“Hyeonjeong entered. Yes, it’s okay. yes yes. “Hyeonjeong packed her bags a week ago.”

He barely sat down and started calling somewhere. A new name, Kim*Jeong, appeared on the waiting room list for surgical patients. I think Hyunjeong is Kim Hyunjeong. Hyunjeong washed her hair and packed her maternity bag a week ago, and that bag was probably that bag. I had a lot of luggage because I packed it carefully, but it wasn’t that heavy, and I just found out that a diaper for a newborn baby was missing from that bag, which was a big deal. I heard the same thing on the phone three times. Hyunjeong’s name was transferred to the operating room. His voice, which kept answering that it was okay, was not okay at all. Becoming a father is such a nerve-wracking experience that I know I can’t be okay with it. Most of the guardians seemed to know. ‘Cell phone calls must be made outside the waiting room’, and although there was even a notice, no one told him to go out and talk.

Sit on the edge of a chair or lean halfway towards your companion. You are holding your smartphone or holding it tightly with both hands. It is the guardians’ job to endure the endless wait with saliva on their lips. The sigh I exhale is deep, and the tension at the end is powerful, but even that strength cannot bring me to something that will come at the end of the wait. I can’t even imagine. Rather than guessing and moving ahead, I sat motionless as if I had no choice but to stay where I was. Everyone. The hospital will inform you of the progress through chat, but guardians cannot leave the waiting room. Even if you don’t know the content of the drama, you can’t take your eyes off the screen.

Then, the appearance of Hyunjeong, or rather, the appearance of Hyunjeong’s guardian, caused a rift in the guardian’s waiting room. Both Hyeonjeong and the baby would be fine, and it was a surgery that only needed for the father to get better quickly. Surgery to give birth to a new life. It’s okay to laugh and be excited, closer to life, with no time to think about death.

I prayed that the baby would come out safely into the world, that the person I was protecting would also come out healthy, and that the patients’ surgeries would be completed successfully before the lips of the guardians here went dry.

Hyunjeong’s guardian welcomes another guardian who has just arrived. He was the one who searched the whole neighborhood early in the morning and brought back the world’s smallest diaper. One more burden has been added to my already heavy burden, but there won’t be any more major issues, so I really hope you’ll be fine. Meanwhile, time in the waiting room flew by.

His name was moved from the operating room to the recovery room.

I got up from the chair. I crossed the hallway again and went to the operating room.

His lips will be dry this time as he wakes up from anesthesia. I diligently straightened my legs, which had become stiff from sitting. With the hallway between us, we feel like we have entered each other’s lives. No, he was under anesthesia, so I guess it was just me, his guardian. The tension, the waiting, and the effort to let go of the endless thoughts and thoughts were all the work of the guardian. Although we think of death, the hospital is actually a place where many lives are awakened.

I will have to greet him warmly when he comes out. I have to make them laugh by telling them everything that happened in the waiting room during the recovery time where they have to breathe through their lungs and get rid of the anesthesia.

I hope I don’t have to go again, but I think I should prepare water to drink next time. I went to the guardian waiting room.