Last week, I was absolutely stoked when I found a copy of the New Yorker when I took our daughter to her doctor’s appointment, instead of the usual trashy magazines. For a New Yorker, this would be hardly surprising but when you’re in Sydney, Australia, finding a copy of The New Yorker is a rare treat. It was time to celebrate!
Who hasn’t experienced the joy of being camped at the doctor’s waiting so long you’re putting down roots and all you have is a stack of trashy magazines for entertainment? I’m sure the world over there are those familiar looking piles of trashy magazines, which should have been pulped long before publication. You know the sort of stuff I’m talking about where those flashy, glossy pages are smothered in the latest “Kardashian Krisis” and other celebrity crap. If you’re really lucky, there might also be some token National Geographics but don’t hold your breath!!
Knowing what to expect, I always BYO. Whenever I head down to Sydney for my specialist appointments, I usually take a choice of two books, a handful of pens and a writing pad to capture fleeting threads of inspiration. I must say that on some occasions, I’ve been bunkering down to write what seems like my entire life story, while I wait. It is nothing to wait for 1-2 hours for an appointment and indeed, there is a sign telling you to allow half a day. All this endless interminable waiting is all for a fleeting 15-30 minute appointment. While this might sound pretty dreadful, especially if you are seeing multiple specialists, it is what it is. I see my specialists for free so I’m not complaining. I just come prepared.
However, I can sure pick the newbies turning various shades of red and emitting shots of steam through their beetroot red ears while they openly complain that “being sick is a full time job”. Most of them could well be transferred to Emergency for immediate anger management. That said, being diagnosed with a serious disease is hard enough. Being forced to spend those precious, rapidly ticking away last minutes of your imminently evaporating life in the bland boredom of a doctor’s waiting room staring at white walls camouflaged by fancy prints, is enough to push even the most mild-mannered Clark Kent over the edge!! Trust me! I know!
I don’t think hospital was on Dr Suess’s list.
Of course, nobody includes being stuck in a doctor’s waiting room on their bucket list when they have 24 hours to live! Not on your life!!!
However, all my expectations of waiting room literature were turned around last week when I took our daughter to her specialist appointment. Much to my delighted amazement, I found a copy of The New Yorker on the very top of the pile. Wow! I was thrilled. Indeed, “I had chills. They’re multiplying and I’m losing control…” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J01QPxZFlw4
A cartoon from the New Yorker, which I photographed on my phone.
The New Yorker is a rare breed in Australia so I was almost thankful that the doctor was late. I was glued to the pages and really had to peel myself away. Indeed, I was even taking photos of the funnies with my phone and seriously hoping the doctor didn’t catch me in the act. Of course, I was doing this in the name of serious journalism…snapping gourmet morsels to feed my blog!
The Statue of Liberty welcomes this adventurous Aussie Dreamer to the Big Apple.
For a few fantastic moments there, I felt myself being transported over the Pacific Ocean touching down for a refueling stopover in Hawaii to meet Max the Dog and indulge in a bit of Hula. Then, I was on a bit of a stop start journey through LA, New Orleans, Washington and finally touching down in New York in such a manner that I didn’t get my Wonder Woman cape caught on one of those spiky bits on the Statue of Liberty.
Just as well I didn’t start singing and dancing in the waiting room! I have absolutely no shame!
I’m in New York and I can even hear Frank Sinatra singing New York New York: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-0nNWOKK2Q
Though still sitting in the waiting room, I’m a real New Yorker or at least a New Yorker with an Australian accent. Well, make that a sedated New Yorker with an Australian accent. Being a rather slow walker who doesn’t wake up before midday without intravenous caffeine infusions, I’d look like a comatose zombie among the fast-paced New Yorkers.
But then the dream shatters…
The door swings open and all my fantasies of New York are put on hold. The doctor is ready and it’s now time to discuss why my daughter doesn’t eat.
Humph! No more New York…New York…New York!
I’ve touched down with a painful thump and it’s time for a brutal reality check!!
New York…LA,Honolulu,Sydney, Wahroonga….Can’t keep the doctor waiting!
The door closes.
Have you ever been to New York and have any stories to tell? I am learning the fine art of living vicariously.
xx Rowena
Beyond the Flow 
I have been…and love NYC…Big fan!! Great post….”New Yorker” with an “Australian accent” made me chuckle… you sound awesome and loud in one tone 🙂
Thanks, Shivani. I have never been to New York but my Dad has been and from what he said everybody is rush, rush, rush and I have slowed down a fair bit these days.
I am loud and quite out there. I think writing a bit of humour about that bad moments like taking my daughter to the specialist and your heart is in your stomach helps to process it all. It’s been quite an unconscious, natural reaction for me.
I have been to NYC once for a few days with my son’s band trip. Unfortunately it rained (poured) the whole time putting a damper on the visit. Would love to go back sometime. I too travel vicariously through others, especially with the challenge by Opinionated Man (http://aopinionatedman.com/) to post about our home towns. Many lovely places around the world.
Rowena it is one of my favourite cities. V visited many moons ago now and as soon as my sister and I got off the plane we could feel the cities pulse. It is alive and I am sure more amazing than ever. On reading and waiting in doctors surgeries I also bring my own book.
Hi Kath,
How lucky! It is interesting that you could feel its pulse as soon as you hit the tarmac. That’s certainly its reputation.
My grandmother lived in New York for a year back in 1948 when she was launching her piano career in the US and Canada. I have a photo of her standing at the top of the Empire State Building and another in period swimsuit at Jones Beach. I wish I’d asked her more about what it was like but she was very focused on her piano at the time and would have been putting in around 5-6 hours of practice a day but she was also a writer and would have had impressions. Further research required.
Wow would have been awesome to hear about her experiences Rowena.
Let’s not discuss time spent in doctors’ waiting rooms, OK? It’s a sensitive topic for me.
Well you’ll know all about the need for a speedy exit.