Confessions shared in an ICU waiting room

"This is my third husband. I left my second husband for this one, and he left his wife for me, but we don't really get along," said the woman sitting across from me. For privacy purposes, we shall call her Toni. "His ex-wife lives across the road from us and I told him that any time he wanted to go back to her, he wouldn't have to walk, I'd give him a ride. And we go to church with my ex."

I discovered that these are the type confessions you hear in the ICU waiting room of a hospital.

Toni and I arrived the same day and I left one day after her husband was moved to a regular hospital room.

I missed her. Hearing her life story, which she was all too vocal about for all to hear, kept my mind off my own problems and provided quite a few laughs.

During this time, my kids got to meet relatives they never knew existed.

Thinking back, I suppose the folks who came and went from that room heard more than they wanted to know about my own family and its skeletons. But when a situation is tense and you are dealing with relatives you normally see less often than once in a blue moon, all sorts of things come up to be discussed or remembered in close quarters.

Oh well. Each one of us there had greater concerns on our minds than safe-guarding our secrets. Several spent 24 hours a day in that room for days on end, only leaving long enough to visit the downstairs hospital shower. I wasn't that diligent, but close. I was lured away to sleep, for a shower and a couple of meals.

Those of us who spent day after day in that waiting room came to feel a camaraderie. We shared food, secrets, and rejoiced at good news. We cried together when it was bad. It's amazing how quickly strangers can become as close as or closer than family.

For me, the news that took me there fluctuated between good news and bad on a daily basis. On day six when the outlook seemed very encouraging, I made the decision to come home and take care of business here. I called my youngest when I reached the top of the 331 Bridge to tell her I was admiring the prettiest sight I had ever seen.

Less than two hours later the worst news arrived.

I have been fortunate that this is the first time for me to walk this walk in 34 years.

I discovered something about my mother in the six days spent at her bedside. She is a much stronger woman than I ever knew.

Deborah Wheeler is a staff writer for The Walton Sun. She may be reached at (850) 267-4555 or e-mail debbie_wheeler@link.freedom.com. Personally Yours is a personal reflection and commentary of the author. The column appears as needed.