by Faith Craft Stanley, Special to The Catalyst

To be a patient in a clinic, to sit silently in fear waiting for X-rays, tests or consultations with physicians, is quite an ordeal. If you haven't been one, then you have been very fortunate. To sit and stare at the floor, the walls, the clock, the ceiling or anything in general, is far better than to stare across the room or even beside you and see the sadness and fear on the faces that surround you.

All the thoughts and feelings that go through your mind as you silently sit there and wait are indescribable. You try to read anything, but you can't because you are waiting to take a test you've never had. Fear takes over inside and you just want to leave. But you can't. You need help and an answer to your problem. The only way to get it is to take the test. So, you sit and wait, and wait, and hope you hear your name called next. As you look around the room from time to time, doctors and nurses in white jackets rush by you. They try to reassure you as you wait by nodding their heads and giving you a quick smile. They don't know what you are going through inside. You can't let the enemy from within win!

I sat for some time before I stood up to get a drink of water. My mouth was so dry I thought I was in the Mojave Desert. My heart was sad for all the new patients waiting in the room. I had already had many tests done at this clinic. These patients had no idea what the test was like. I'm not saying that doctors do not try to inform you about the test itself. They do tell you, but you have to go through it and the waiting itself makes you very nervous, fearful and frightened. I made my way to the fountain that day and turned around to see an older patient nearby. She looked at me with sad and frightened eyes. I felt her hand on my wrist.

“Are you a nurse?” she asked me.

“No, I'm a patient, like you.”

“I have to take some tests,” her voice quivered as she spoke. “I'm so afraid. Will you sit next to me for awhile?” she asked.

There was an empty chair next to her, so I sat down to keep her company. She needed to be comforted and reassured at that moment that everything would be all right. I explained to her that I had taken many tests, and I was still smiling. She held onto my wrist until her name was called. She stood up, turned to me and whispered, “Thank you,” before she slowly walked away. I just smiled back.

I returned to my chair and looked out the window. I knew in my heart that day for one brief moment the enemy from within had been conquered and I believe from that day to the present, there are people who need someone there for them in the waiting room, someone to try and help them conquer their enemy. Fear!

Editor's note: Faith Craft Stanley is a patient with multiple sclerosis. She moved to Charleston from Exeter, N.H., more than a year ago to seek treatment at MUSC, “...and I'm glad I did,” she reports.