When we first got to the waiting area, this lady was the only one in our section. This sizable seating venue was a staging area: patients were called away for one test, then another; in between they assumed their perch (if still available) and wait for the ultimate call, the call from the person who will escort them to the place where the causes to all problems will be revealed.
Fast forward 10 hours. We meet again on the bumpy yellow rubber mats that interface between the sidewalk and where our cars will pull up so we can go home. I recognize her by her striped dress, but now her face is more important. We talk for the first time, sympathizing about our different experiences bracketed by the same long wait.