Thoughts while in a doctor's office

I wrote this while waiting to talk to the doctor about a lump in my breast about 2 years ago. I'm not sure if it's poetry, prose or just useless rambling, but I just found my notes and wanted to catch the words before they were gone.

Painters of murals who have no depth perception
Flatly articulated on the walls
Only a vague awareness of how things look from afar.

Violins sawing madly in the background
To a Brandenburg Concerto I believe
More cacophonous than melodious

Muffled codes spoken by the "keepers of the records."
Conversations around the corner of diagnosis and
And children and events to come in their lives
They do have lives, outside of this room.
and the women waiting, waiting, waiting for their name to be called
While their frantically chasing thoughts of health and
What-ifs and who knows?
Like a dog with a bone, worrying and picking incessantly
Instead of patiently, as their role describes.

Tapping of toes with impatience, or worry or doubt
Or maybe all three
While the violins saw on, and the phone rings and the
Papers are shuffled and health cards are copied.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.