Patience

I was raised to be patient. I was taught a song as a child that my children and their cousins are all learning:

Have patience, have patience

Don't be in such a hurry.

When you get impatient,

You only start to worry.

Remember, remember

That God is patient too,

So think of all the times

when others

have to wait on you!

I was given a love of reading. My mom was an avid reader. I remember when we would camp...the success of vacation could be determined by the number of fish caught by my dad and brother, as well as the number of books I read. My father is also a reader. We pass books back and forth and have a frequent exchange that goes something like this:

Me: "Dad, can you take Mr. 1inamillion to chemo on Thursday?"

Dad: "I don't see why not. I just got a new book!"

My dad and I both can handle hours in any room by escaping it into the pages of a book. I used to knit, too. I made countless scarves in countless waiting rooms until carpal tunnel shut me down. Now I stick to the reading. Stop me at any time and there is likely at least one book or magazine in my purse. Maybe a snack or two. Possibly even a bottle of water. If I happen to be without a book, I've got a Blackberry to surf. Yep, I'm a champ at waiting. Usually.

Dane and the kids got me a gift card for a pedicure for Mother's Day. I was led back to a 'relaxation room' to wait. and wait. I sat staring out a large window overlooking a little pond with a path around it. That would be a nice little path to walk or run. People sat along the path eating ice cream from a parlor next door. I could get ice cream after I ran. I paced the room a bit looking around. Shifted amongst the comfy chairs. How long have I been here waiting? When I could be running? Or eating ice cream? 30 minutes. A half hour waiting when I don't HAVE to be here! Don't these people realize how much time I spend in waiting rooms just waiting? If they did, they didn't care. I left without the pedi and without my championship in waiting.

We have spent countless hours in waiting rooms. Most of our waiting is for the oncologist here in Wichita. He runs notoriously late. We've spent a lot of time sitting in a little room contemplating how we should fire him for his tardiness. Mr. 1inamillion and I spent one afternoon sitting in a tiny exam room counting up the time we had wasted just waiting for him alone and talking about what we could have been doing with that time instead. Not in treatment, not in CT scans or lab, not meeting with or waiting for any doctor but him. It exceeded 24 hours. An entire day! That was close to two years ago. I try not to think about the math anymore.

While I sing to those who wait on me, the words of Dr. Seuss run through my head as we arrive at doctors' offices. Of all the Places You'll Go he warned us about, the most useless place is the The Waiting Place...for people just waiting. Medical buildings are full of waiting rooms, useless places on every floor with people just waiting. For lab tests, for lab results, for doctors...Everyone is just waiting. For IV drugs to drip, for radiation to pass, for more doctors, for more tests, Everyone is just waiting.

Most of Mr. 1inmillion's energy is spent in a Waiting Place. It's just wasted there and that is so frustrating for him. Even with good books, the routine has been wearing thin on me as well. It's gotten me thinking. What if the good doctor is wrong? What if The Waiting Place doesn't have to be useless?

What if Dane's time spent waiting meant progress towards a cure for soft tissue sarcoma? What if every hour spent waiting on Dr. McTardy to find his way to the exam room or waiting for the IV bag to finally empty equaled research dollars? What if the man sitting next to Mr. 1inamillion was also raising money for his cure? And one floor down, the woman waiting for her neurologist was also making progress towards a cure for her Parkinson's? And in a waiting room across town, money was being raised to fight lupus?

We sponsor miles for runners with a cause, surely we can sponsor patients being, well, patient. Those that want and need a cure probably aren't running. They're not swimming, they're not shooting hoops, jumping rope or cycling for miles. They might like to be, but their energy is spent elsewhere. Probably in a tiny room with a bunch of others unable to do anything else but be patient, too.

We are called upon to "be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer" (Romans 12:12). To be patient does not simply mean to bear delay without complaint or anger. It also means to quietly and steadily persevere. Not just a bunch of 'suck it up and wait', but progress steadily inching forward in the Waiting-Place. That's not useless. And it makes me joyful in hope.

There's a lot to be done to build the Waiting-Place. So far I have been overwhelmed by the reaction from those with whom I've shared the idea, but there's still funding to be found and cyber bricks to be laid. Will you pray for this project? And if you happen to see me pacing, climbing the walls of a relaxation room, or hyperventilating under the new weight of this project, feel free to sing me a song. Give the lyrics up top a shot. It worked for my mom.