ER, Readers and Expectations.

Waiting.

Three hours of waiting. The X-ray’s we’re taken two and a half hours ago and Mom and I have waited for two ice packs and a tetanus shot ever since.

The nurses shoved us into a nearly dead hallway, one turn away from the rest of the sundry medical conditions waiting for attention in the ER. They forgot about us and our near silent and sickly smelling hallway.

When we finally get attention from a Russian (accent!) male nurse (who was probably a doctor in his home country but lacks the proper certification in Canada) who says he’ll be right with us, leaves then doesn’t return for another hour or so.

He stands before us in dark blue scrubs, smacking gum around his words, “An ice pack for your elbow and one for...somewhere else.”

Mom grabs a bag of offered ice for her frozen (at a 45 degree angle) arm. “Yeah it’s for my-”

“Foot, it’s for her foot.” I finish. Mom’s in pain and speaking too slow. (Never said I was patient)

He nods, smacking his gum with annoying consistency, bends at the waist and throws the ice pack on Moms swollen and bruised foot.

She jumps six inches in her chair, hissing in pain.

I scowl and go to open my mouth but Male Nurse flicks a cover off the needle asking, “Right or left arm?”

Mom answers, “Doesn’t matter.”

The next instant a needle is jammed into her arm. A second later Male Nurse rips the needle from her arm, flicks the protective cover over the tip and tosses the used needle.

Wide-eyed I watch as a bubble of blood gathers on Mom’s upper arm. I look between the, now dripping, red and Male Nurse who is walking down the hall, confident swagger and all.

I do the only thing that makes sense. I laugh.

Mom joins and we bond over the ridiculousness of his bedside manner, knowing exactly why he’ll probably never be certified as a doctor in Canada – we have standards.

I have expectations as a patient (or bystander, in this case) ones which, no matter who it is, I expect to be fulfilled. He broke them.  

Readers have expectations of Writers too. They don’t like being ignored. They don’t want things dropped on them or jammed into their bloodstream – be it morals, ideologies, characterization or plot details (it’s called subtlety people!).

They want care, to feel important and a gentle hand to guide them through the process. They may be in for a fatal diagnosis, for a broken bone that will take months to heal, an inability to breathe, heart problems or even a false alarm – really, whatever your story calls for. However, no matter why they are their or what’s in store, you need to do your job: to walk the thin line between being straightforward and subtle, to give some warning (foreshadowing!), and to be gentle while you deliver your worst.

To clarify, all I mean by gentle is write well, don’t just bludgeon your reader or use cheap tricks to force a reaction - it probably won’t be the one you want anyway.

Who knows, they might just laugh at you.

Word Of The Day: Abeyant - latent.

Sorry, if I've missed visiting you this week. I started bartending school Tuesday and it's really demanding! If any of you are going to the bar/pub/club/restaurant (and you order drinks) this weekend, please, for all that is good in this world, don't forget to tip! A lot of work goes into learning how to bartend properly, remembering all the recipes (HUNDREDS!) and being efficient. That being said, if they are jerks for whatever reason...then don't, obviously.

I'm just saying.