Waiting Rooms

It has been a few months since I have gone to an appointment with John. I used to do this more frequently for a number of reasons – to help John explain his issues and pains, accurately (John has a horrible habit of minimizing his aches and pains) to the doctor; to provide emotional support for John; and to hear an explanation directly from the doctor about a certain issue, instead of getting a filtered account from John later. (Recall that John’s memory can’t be fully trusted.)

After many years front running and keeping a watch out for ways certain environments might be difficult for John’s brain to handle, I have a certain amount of sympathy pains. I have noticed this in myself when I am alone or without John around but begin to struggle myself with external stimulation. I have become sensitive to background noise, too loud music, or certain lighting and prefer it if I can drown those out or sit elsewhere. (Or, am I just getting old?) At least I have the ability to do this with my non-TBI brain.

Waiting rooms are absolute killers for John. I wish doctors or the administrators of these spaces could make them more soothing and quieter. The lighting is always an issue. If there are no windows, then the fluorescent lighting is awful. They make John see double. If there are windows then natural light is too bright so John wears sunglasses. There is usually no music playing but there is often a tv blaring. Thankfully, most people waiting try not to speak , talk loudly, or be obnoxious. Sometimes, the heat is too high and John starts to overheat. He can handle cold better than heat.

When I go with John to his appointments, I help answer questions from front desk staff, fill out paperwork for John, and will ask for a TV to be turned off or try to speak calmly and soothingly to John to try to calm his nerves. (In an upcoming post I will be speaking about his blood pressure which spikes to dangerous levels when he is overly stimulated or stressed out.) I think these things help him. At the least, I think it’s comforting knowing that I’m trying. When I go, I can also listen for his name to be called. This allows him to have that one less thing to worry about.

I have accompanied John to at least 6 surgeries or procedures where he has to be placed under anesthesia. Those experiences are similar but different and I do a lot more to support John. The experience in the waiting rooms for those visits are the same however.

Ways to combat the stimulation might be to take and wear sunglasses, take headphones or earbuds and listen to soothing music or white/brown noise (although this may block hearing your name being called), take a jacket and/or wear lighter weight clothing, take water and snacks, make sure you have taken your medication and maybe have your next dose with you.

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