So, you took the exam. A corker! You crammed for hours before the big test. Before that you went over your notes, even typed them from the hand scribbled notebooks. The mind refreshed the material learned over the term. You summarized it all as well. Finally you had one page encapsulating the class material succinctly. You were prepared.
Taking the exam was tense at first; then relaxed as a rhythm developed. Questions were quickly sorted, and answers formed. Then essay questions tackled. After an hour, the test was over. You glanced over the test booklet. You were satisfied. Rising from the seat, you walked forward, handed in your booklet and left the room.
Now for the hard part. First some deep breaths, stretching stiff legs and arms, of course the back, and a slow walk back toward the dorm. But first, a cup of coffee. Others had gathered as well, and soon chatter was all about the tests each had taken that morning. Camaraderie exploded. Then laughter.
Later in the day the wondering began. Did I do well? Will I get an A or B on this test? Will it affect my final grade in the class? Days followed until our next class meeting. Only then would we learn what the results were. And what they meant.
Each of us has had an experience like this, or similar. Perhaps there was no dorm. Maybe this was high school. Or college, grad school, or a qualifying exam for a new job? Whatever, we’ve taken tests, submitted our work, and had to wait for the results.
So too, Rocky and I. Wednesday was a full day at the downtown hospital in Chicago. Five appointments, consults and prep work done for pending surgery. What they will do, when they will do it, and what the likely results will be. So much pending. So much hanging in doubt. We’ve done our work. Now theirs.
We wait. Did we pass? Will the surgery go forward? Are the prospects better than thought before? What will the future hold for us?
Like any test, waiting is involved. So too our trust. And patience.
And hope.
June 20, 2019
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